Page 13 of A Sunless Sea (William Monk 17)

“Most times she were neither good nor bad,” she replied with a sigh. “Like most folks, I s’pose. Some days she ’ad a really pretty smile. I reckon as she were ’andsome when she were younger. Got a bit tired-looking now. S’pose we all do.” Without thinking she put her hand up and smoothed her own white hair.

“And the last two months?” he asked.

“Yer mean since ’e stopped coming? Sad. Terrible sad, she were, poor thing. I seen ’er walking along ’ere with ’er ’ead ’angin’, an’ draggin’ ’er feet like she lost all ’er spirit.”

“Could he have been someone close to her? A brother, maybe?” he asked.

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Why d’yer want to know all this, then? Yer ’unting for summink? Wot’s she got ter do with the River Police?”

“She’s missing, Mrs. Scalford,” Monk said grimly. “And we’ve found the body of a woman we think may be her.”

She went pale and her shoulders stiffened as if she hardly dared breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. He meant it. “We could be wrong.” He pulled the constable’s drawing out of his inside pocket, unfolded it, and passed it to her.

She took it and held it in gnarled hands, which trembled a little.

“That’s ’er,” she said huskily. “Poor little beggar! What she ever do ter deserve bein’ cut up?” Her voice dropped even lower. “That’s ’oo yer talking about, in’t it? ’Er wot was cut open an’ left on the pier?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

She looked up at him. “Yer goin’ ter get ’oo did it and ’ang ’im, ain’t yer?” It was a demand as much as a question. She was shaking now, her cup clattering in its saucer.

“If you help,” he answered, taking the cup from her and putting it down. “Tell me more about this man who visited her, and stopped coming two months ago. Can you describe him for me? And don’t tell me you don’t remember him. Of course you do. I’d lay odds you could describe me, if someone else came and asked you.”

She smiled as if in some bleak way it amused her. “Course I could. Ain’t many around ’ere as looks like you.” There was approval in her voice and he saw a glimpse of the young woman she must have been half a century ago.

“So tell me,” he prompted.

She gave a deep, weary sigh. “I s’pose I better ’ad. I dunno, mind, but I reckon as she were one o’ them tarts that ’as just one customer, like, an’ either ’e got tired of ’er, or ’e died.” She nodded toward the window. “I saw ’er goin’ up and down ’ere a few times since, an’ I thought, yer poor cow, yer ain’t going ter find much lookin’ like that. Only them as is desperate. An’ a man only gets ter pick up ’er age o’ tart if ’e in’t got the money fer a younger one.” She shook her head slowly, the sadness so deep in her, Monk had no doubt now that she saw herself as she could have been.

“Can you describe him?” he asked again.

She returned her attention to the present and looked him up and down, thinking. “Almost your height, I should think, but bonier. Kind o’ more awkward. Gray ’air, goin’ thin across the top. Clean shaven. Well dressed, like a gentleman, but ordinary. I lay odds ’e didn’t pay ’is tailor like you pay yours.”

“Thank you,” Monk said drily. “Anything else? A coat? An umbrella, perhaps?”

“No. Coat in the winter, not in October, when he last come. Never saw ’im with a brolly. Saw ’im close, too, once. Nice face ’e ’ad. Sort of … gentle. He looked kind of sad, an’ ’e smiled at ’er.”

“He went to her house?”

“Course ’e did. What d’yer expect? They was going to do whatever they did in the street?”

“Might have gone to some other place,” Monk pointed out.

“No, ’e went inter ’er ’ouse.”

“For how long?”

“ ’Alf hour, mebbe more.”

“But you saw him?”

“Course I saw him. Couldn’t tell yer if I ’adn’t, could I? You suddenly gone soft, or summink? You find ’im! She don’t deserve to be cut up like that.” She swallowed with difficulty, struggling to overcome her anger.

“What I mean, Mrs. Scalford, is did he come when it was clear daylight, when you could see clearly who came and went to the house?”

“In’t nothin’ wrong wi’ me eyes.” She thought for a moment. “Afternoon, it were, usually. Funny, come to think of it. Why wouldn’t ’e come when it were dark?”