"Of course. I am keeping you. I apologize." And with a quick smile, meeting her eyes for a moment, he excused himself and went rapidly along the corridor toward the nearest ward.

It was early evening before Callandra found Monk, and she observed no ceremony, but plunged straight in to her purpose for coming to his rooms.

"There has been a murder in the hospital," she said bluntly. "One of the nurses, an exceptional young woman, both honest and diligent. She was strangled, or so it appears, and stuffed into the laundry chute." She looked at him expectantly.

His hard gray eyes searched her face for several moments before he answered. "What bothers you?" he said at length. "There is something more."

"Runcorn sent an Inspector Jeavis to investigate," she replied. "Do you know him?"

"Slightly. He's very sharp. He'll probably do an adequate job. Why? Who did it? Do you know, or suspect?"

"No!" she said too quickly. "I have no idea at all. Why would anybody want to murder a nurse?"

"Any number of reasons." He pulled a face. "The most obvious that come to mind are a lover jilted, a jealous woman, and blackmail. But there are others. She may have witnessed a theft, or another murder that looked like natural death. Hospitals are full of deaths. And there are always love, hate, and jealousy. Was she handsome?"

"Yes, yes she was." Callandra stared at him. He had said so many ugly things in a bare handful of words, and yet any one of them could be true. At least one of them almost certainly was. One did not strangle a woman without some intense passion. Unless it was the act of a lunatic.

As if reading her thoughts, he spoke.

"I assume the hospital is for the physically sick? It is not a madhouse?"

"No, not at all. What a vile thought."

"A madhouse?"

"No, I meant that someone quite sane murdered her."

"Is that what troubles you?"

She considered lying to him, or at least evading the truth, then looked at his face and decided against it.

"Not entirely. I'm afraid Jeavis suspects Dr. Beck, primarily because he is a foreigner and it is he and I who found the body."

He looked at her closely. "Do you suspect Dr. Beck?"

"No!" Then she blushed for the fierceness of her reply, but it was to late to retreat. He had seen her eagerness and then her immediate knowledge that she had betrayed herself. "No, I think it is extremely unlikely," she went on. "But I have no confidence in Jeavis. Will you please look into the matter? I will employ you myself, at your usual rate."

"Don't be ridiculous!" he said acidly. "You have contributed to my well-being ever since I took up this occupation. You are not paying me now because you wish a job done."

"But I have to." She looked at him and the words he had intended died on his lips. Callandra continued: "Will you please investigate the murder of Prudence Barrymore? She died this morning, probably between six o'clock and half past seven. Her body was found in the laundry chute at the hospital, and the cause of death seems to have been strangulation. There is not a great deal more I can tell you, except that she was an excellent nurse, one of Miss Nightingale's women who served in the Crimea. I judge her to be in her early thirties, and of course not married."

"All very pertinent information," he agreed. "But I have no way of involving myself in the matter. Jeavis certainly won't call upon me, and I think there is no chance whatsoever that he will share with me any information that he might have. Nor will anyone in the hospital answer my questions, should I have the temerity to ask." Then his face softened with regret. "I'm sorry. I would if I could."

But it was Kristian's features, not Monk's, which were in her mind.

"I appreciate it will be hard," she said without hesitation. "But it is a hospital. I shall be there. I can observe things and tell you. And perhaps it would be more effective if we could get Hester a position there? She would see much that I would not, and indeed that Inspector Jeavis would not."

"Callandra!" he interrupted. Calling her by her given name without her title was a familiarity-indeed, an arrogance!-which she did not mind. If she had, she would have corrected him rapidly enough. It was the pain in his voice which chilled her.

"Hester has a gift for observation," she carried on, disregarding him, Kristian's face still vivid in her mind. "And she is as good as you are at piecing together information. She has an excellent understanding of human nature, nor is she afraid to pursue a cause."

"In that case you will hardly need me." He said it wasp-ishly, but it was redeemed at the last instant by a flash of humor in his eyes.

She was spoiling her own case by pressing too hard.

"Perhaps I overstated it a trifle," she conceded. "But she would certainly be an asset, and be able to observe those things you were not in a position to. Then she could report to you so you could make deductions and tell her what next to inquire into?"

"And if there is a murderer in this hospital of yours, have you considered what danger you might be putting her into? One nurse has already been killed," he pointed out.

She saw in his face that he was aware of his own victory.

"No, I had not thought of that," she confessed. "She would have to be most careful, and look without asking. Still, even so, she would be of invaluable assistance to you."

"You speak as though I were going to take the case."

"Am I mistaken?" This time it was her victory, and she also knew it.

Again the smile lit his face, showing an unaccustomed gentleness. "No, no you are not. I shall do what I can."

"Thank you." She felt a rush of relief which surprised her. "Did I mention it, John Evan is the sergeant assisting Jeavis?"

"No, you did not mention it, but I happened to know that he was working with Jeavis."

"I thought you might. I am glad you are still keeping your friendship with him. He is an excellent young man."

Monk smiled.

Callandra rose to her feet and he rose automatically also.

"Then you had' better go and see Hester," she instructed. "There is no time to be lost. I would do it myself, but you can tell her what you wish her to do for you better man I. You may tell her I shall use my influence to see that she obtains a position. They will be looking for someone to take poor Prudence Barrymore's place."

"I shall ask her," he agreed, pulling a slight face. "I promise," he added.

"Thank you. I shall arrange it all tomorrow." And she went out of the door as he held it for her, and then through the front door into the warm evening street. Now that there was nothing more that she could do, she felt tired and extraordinarily sad. Her coach was waiting for her and she rode home in somber mood.

Hester received Monk with a surprise which she did not bother to conceal. She led him into the tiny front room and invited him to sit She looked far less tired today; there was a vigor about her, a good color to her skin. Not for the first time he was aware of how intensely alive she was-not so much physically, but in the mind and in the will.

"This cannot be a social call," she said with a slight smile of amusement. "Something has happened." It was a statement, not a question.

He did not bother with prevarication.

"Callandra came to see me earlier this evening," he began. "This morning there was a nurse murdered in the hospital where she is on the Board of Governors. A nurse from the Crimea, not just a woman to fetch and carry." He stopped, seeing the shock in her face and quite suddenly realizing that in all probability it was someone she knew, maybe well, someone she might even have cared for. Neither he nor Callandra had thought of that.