wanted desperately to protect him from the disillusion she feared was coming. There were moments when she did not want to know why Rathbone had defended Phillips. But they passed. Her better self despised the weakness that preferred ignorance, or worse, lies. She would not want anyone she cared for to love a false reflection of her. After all, could there be a greater loneliness than that?
They reached the terminus and alighted. It was a walk of about half a mile along the busy street, and she had to go behind Sutton and Snoot because the way was so narrow they could not pass together without bumping into the traffic going the other way. Every few moments Sutton would look back to make sure she was still on his heels.
Sutton stopped at a small door next to an alley no more than ten feet long, and ending in a blind wall. Snoot instantly sat at his heels. Sutton knocked, and several moments passed before it was opened by a small hunchbacked man with an extraordinarily sweet expression on his face. He nodded when he recognized Sutton and his dog, then he glanced at Hester, more questioning whether she were with them than for her name or business. Satisfied by Sutton's nod, he led them inside to a room so cluttered with books and papers he had to clear two chairs for them to sit down. There were reams of blank paper stacked against the wall; the smell of ink was sharp in the air. The little man hitched himself back with some difficulty into what was obviously his own chair.
"I dint print it," he said without any preamble. His voice was deep and chesty, and his diction remarkably clear.
Sutton nodded. "I know that. It was Pinky Jones, but he's dead, and he'd lie about the time of day. Just tell Mrs. Monk what it said, if you please, Mr. Palk."
"It's not nice," Palk warned.
"Is it true?" Hester asked, although she had not yet been included in the conversation.
"Oh, yes, it's true. Lots of folks around here know that."
"Then please tell me."
He looked at her, for the first time, curiosity sharp in his face.
"You have to understand, Durban was a man of strong passions," he began. "Nice on the surface, funny when he wanted to be. I've seen him set the whole room laughing. And generous, he could be. But he felt some things hard, and it seems this Mary Webber was one o' them. Never heard why. Never heard who or what she was that made him care."
"He never found her?"
"Don't know, Miss, but if he didn't, it wasn't for want of trying. This all started when he went to Ma Wardlop's house. Brothel it is-mebbe a dozen girls or so. Asking her if she'd seen Mary Webber." He shook his head. "Wouldn't let it drop, no matter what. Finally Ma Wardlop told him one of the girls knew something, and took him to her room. He questioned her in there for more than an hour, until she was screaming at him. That point Ma went an' fetched a revenue man who lived a couple o' doors away. Big man, he was." He pulled his lips into a thin line, an expression of great sadness. "Punched the door in and said he found Durban in a position no policeman should be with a whore, but didn't say what it was, exactly. She claimed he'd forced himself on her. He said he never touched her."
Hester did not reply. Her mind raced from one ugly scene to another, trying to find an answer that would not disgust Monk.
Palk's face was screwed up in revulsion, but it was impossible to say whether it was for Durban, or the lie the prostitute might have told. "Ma Wardlop said she'd keep her mouth shut about it all if Durban would be wise enough to do the same. Only she meant about anything he might see in the future, and he knew that."
"Blackmail," Hester said succinctly.
He nodded again. "He told her to go to hell, and take the revenue man with her." Palk said it with some satisfaction, curling back his lips in a smile that showed surprisingly strong white teeth. "They said they'd not just spread it around the streets, they'd put it in the papers too. He told them he agreed with the Duke of Wellington-'publish and be damned.' He wasn't going to keep his mouth shut about anything he didn't want to."
"And what