shadow of wry sympathy, as if he could imagine it clearly. "Another one of the students, tall fellow with fair hair that falls over his brow, he didn't like her. Thought she had ambitions above a woman's place." His eyes met Hester's. "Arrogant fellow, he seemed to me," he added. "But then he doesn't care for policemen either. We get in the way of the real work, which of course is his work."
"You didn't like him," she stated the obvious, reaching for another heap of bandages. "But was he in the hospital that morning?"
He pulled a face. "Unfortunately not. Nor was the one who admired her."
"Who was, that you know?"
"About half the nurses, the treasurer, Dr. Beck, Sir Herbert, two student doctors named Howard and Cantrell, Mrs. Flaherty, one of the Board of Governors called Sir Donald MacLean, another called Lady Ross Gilbert. And the front doors were open so anyone could have come in unobserved. Not very helpful, is it?"
"Not very," she agreed. "But then I suppose opportunity was never going to be our best chance for evidence."
He laughed. "How very efficient you sound. Monk's right-hand man-I mean, woman."
She was about to explode in argument that she was most certainly not Monk's hand of any sort when Mrs. Flaherty's thin upright figure appeared in the doorway, her face pink with anger, her eyes brilliant.
"And what are you doing, Nurse Latterly, standing about talking to this young man? You are very new here, and regardless of your friendship with certain well-placed persons, I would remind you we set a very high moral standard, and if you fall below it, you will be dismissed!"
For an instant Hester was furious. Then she saw the absurdity of her morality's being questioned in regard to John Evan.
"I am from the police, Matron Flaherty," Evan said coldly, standing upright. "I was questioning Miss Latterly. She had no alternative but to answer me, as have all the staff in the hospital, if they wish to assist the law rather than be charged with obstructing it."
Color flared up Mrs. Flaherty's cheeks. "Fiddlesticks, young man!" she said. "Nurse Latterly was not even here when poor Nurse Barrymore met her death. If you have not even learned that, then you are hopelessly incompetent. I don't know what we pay you for!"
"Of course I am aware of that," Evan said angrily. "It is precisely because she could not be guilty that her observation is so useful."
"Observation of what?" Mrs. Flaherty's white eyebrows rose very high. "As I have just pointed out, young man, she was not here. What could she have seen?"
Evan affected extreme patience. "Mrs. Flaherty, seven days ago someone strangled one of your nurses and stuffed the body down the laundry chute. Such an act is not an isolated piece of lunacy. Whoever did it had a powerful motive, something which springs from the past Similarly, the memory of that crime, and the fear of being caught, will carry forward into the future. There is much to observe now for those with the ability to see it."
Mrs. Flaherty grunted, looked at Hester her strong face, her slender almost lean figure, very square-shouldered, very upright; then at Evan standing beside the table piled with bandages, his soft wing of brown hair waving off the brow, his long nosed, sensitive, humorous face; and snorted her disbelief. Then she swung on her heel and marched off.
Evan did not know whether to be angry or to laugh; the mixed emotions were plain in his expression.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I did not mean to compromise your reputation. It never occurred to me."
"Nor to me," Hester admitted with a faint heat in her cheeks. It was all so ridiculous. "Perhaps if we meet again, it had better be outside the hospital?"
"And outside Jeavis's knowledge too," he said quickly. "He would not appreciate me giving aid and comfort to the enemy." _ "The enemy. Am I the enemy?"
"By extension, yes." He put his hands in his pockets. "Runcorn still hates Monk and never ceases to tell Jeavis how much more satisfactory he is, but the men still speak of Monk, and Jeavis is no fool. He knows why Runcorn prefers him, and he's determined to prove himself and lay Monk's ghost." He smiled. "Not that he ever will. Runcorn can't forget all the years Monk trod on his heels, the times he was right when Runcorn was wrong, the little things, the unspoken contempt, the better-cut suits, the voice a little rounder." He was watching