have chosen a place where there was enough light to be sure the man recognized his marks of office, his uniform, his cudgel. Yes, he'd definitely take a cudgel, just in case the man was desperate enough to fight. After all, he would have a lot to lose-public disgust, ridicule, loss of position, friends, money, power, perhaps even his family."
Pearly Boy licked his lips nervously.
"Then Durban would make the offer," Monk said. "'Use your power to protect Reilly, the boy most in danger because of his age and his courage, and I'll protect you. Let Reilly die, and I'll expose you to the whole of London.'"
Pearly Boy licked his lips again. "So 'oo was it then?"
"That is what I want from you, Pearly Boy," Monk answered.
Pearly Boy cleared his throat. "An' if I don't? It could 'ave been lots o' people. I dunno 'oo's got that kind o' weakness. It could be a revenue man, a magistrate, a rich merchant, an 'arbormaster. They got all kinds o' tastes. Or it could 'ave been another policeman! Ever thought o' that?"
"Of course I have. Who could have protected Reilly? That's the key to it. Who had the power? Above all, who was important enough to Phillips that he would listen to him?"
Understanding flashed in Pearly Boy's soft, clever face, and the excitement of knowledge. "You mean 'oo's got an appetite 'e can't control, an' needs Phillips ter feed it, an' yet 'e's got some kind o' power to 'elp Phillips that's so good Phillips 'as got to keep 'im sweet too? That's a nice one, Mr. Monk, a very nice one indeed."
"Yes, it is. And I want a nice answer," Monk agreed.
Pearly Boy's eyebrows rose. "Or what?" He was shivering very slightly Monk could smell the sweat of fear in the closed air of the room. "What if I can't find out?" He tried a bit of bravado. "Or if I decide not to?"
"I shall see that Phillips knows that you told Mr. Durban about this very interesting client, and are on the point of telling me, when we can agree on a price."
Pearly Boy was white, the sweat beading on his face. "And what price would that be?" he asked hoarsely.
Monk smiled, showing his teeth. "Future silence, and a certain shortsightedness now and then, where the revenue men are concerned."
"Dead men are silent," Pearly Boy said through thin lips.
"Not those who can write, and leave clear instructions behind them. Mr. Durban might have been very nice to you. I won't be."
"I could 'ave you killed. Dark night, narrow alley?"
"The Fat Man's dead. I'm not," Monk reminded him. "Take the easy way, Pearly Boy. You're a receiver, not a murderer. You kill a River Policeman, you'll be tracked down. Do you want to be buried feetfirst in the Thames mud, never come back up again?"
Pearly Boy went even paler still. "You'll owe me!" he challenged, his eyes flickering a little.
Monk smiled. "I told you, I'll forget about you... to a point. I'll put you last on my list to close down, rather than first."
Pearly Boy said something obscene under his breath.
"I beg your pardon!" Monk snapped.
"I'll find 'im," Pearly replied.
Suddenly Monk was gracious. "Thank you. It will be to your advantage."
But as he left his emotions were tangled. He walked warily along the narrow street, keeping to the middle, away from the alley entrances and the sunken doorways.
What was the difference between one blackmail and another? Was it of kind, or only of degree? Did the purpose justify it?
He did not even have to think about that. If he could save any child from Phillips, he would, without a thought for the morality of his actions. But did that make him a good policeman or not? He felt uncomfortable, unhappy, uncertain in his judgment, and closer to Durban than ever before. But it was a closeness of emotion, rage and vulnerability.
And of course when Durban had died at the turn of the year, the protection of Reilly had disappeared. He had been left naked to whatever Phillips had wanted to do. That thought made him feel sick, even as he came out of the alley into the wind and the sun of the open dock.
Chapter Eight
Rathbone sat at his own dinner table and felt curiously with-/out appetite. The room was beautiful, greatly improved from its original, rather sparse elegance, since Margaret's advent into the house. He was not quite sure what it was specifically that was changed, but it was somehow