Page 67 of A Sunless Sea (William Monk 17)

“Yeah? Like I said, why do you care?” Agatha repeated, looking at Hester narrowly.

“Because if he was murdered, then that makes more sense of Zenia Gadney’s murder on Limehouse Pier,” Hester explained.

Agatha shive

red. “Since when did bloody lunatics make sense? What’s the matter wi’ you?”

“Mrs. Lambourn’s on trial for the murder of Zenia Gadney because the doctor visited Zenia every month and paid her rent and all her other expenses,” Hester replied with some heat.

“Stupid bitch,” Agatha said bitterly. “What the hell good did that do ’er?”

“None at all.”

“So why’d she do it then?” Agatha said, frowning, her eyes full of anger.

“Maybe she didn’t. She says the doctor didn’t kill himself, either.”

Agatha stared at her, a new comprehension in her face. “An’ you reckon as it was something to do with him asking about the opium?”

“Don’t you? There’s a lot of money in opium,” Hester pointed out.

“Bleedin’ right there is,” Agatha said with scathing savagery, as if some memory had returned to her with the thought. “Fortunes made in it, an’ reputations lost. Nobody wants to think o’ the Opium Wars now. Lot o’ secrets, most of ’em bloody an’ full o’ death an’ money.” She leaned forward a little. “You be careful,” she warned. “You’d be surprised what big families got rich on that an’ don’t say nothing about it now.”

“Did Dr. Lambourn know that?”

“Didn’t say, but he weren’t nobody’s fool-an’ neither am I. Don’t go messin’ around with opium sellers, lady, or you’ll maybe end up somewhere cut up in an alley, or floatin’ down the river, belly up. I’ll get yer what yer need. An’ I ain’t sayin’ that fer profit. Those bastards will ’ave yer for breakfast, but they won’t cross me.”

“Did Zenia know about all this?” Hester said quickly.

Agatha’s eyes widened. “How the ’ell do I know?”

“I’d wager good money you know a great deal about anything that interests you,” Hester retorted instantly.

Agatha laughed very quietly, almost under her breath.

“So I do, but madmen wot butcher women in’t my concern, less they’re after me. An’ if they do that …” She lifted up her big hands and deliberately cracked her knuckles. “An’ I got a big carving knife o’ me own, if I ’ave to use it! Mind your own business, lady. I’ll get yer opium for yer, best in the world. Fair price.”

“And the needle?” Hester asked tentatively.

Agatha blinked. “An’ the needle. But yer got ter be real careful with it!”

“I will.” Hester stood up. She was glad the weight of her skirt hid the fact that her knees were trembling a little. She kept her voice very steady. “Thank you.”

Agatha sighed and rolled her eyes, then suddenly she smiled, showing her big white teeth.

CHAPTER 14

Oliver Rathbone was eating his breakfast when the maid interrupted him to announce that Mrs. Monk had called to see him regarding a matter she said was urgent.

Rathbone put down his knife and fork and rose to his feet. “Ask her to come in.” He gestured toward his half-finished food. He had no taste for it anyway. He ate it at all simply because he knew he required the nourishment. “Thank you, I don’t need any more, but please bring fresh toast and tea for Mrs. Monk,” he requested.

“Yes, Sir Oliver,” the maid said obediently, and left, taking the plate with her.

A moment later Hester came in, her cheeks flushed from the wind.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, her eyes taking in the table and the obvious fact that she had interrupted. “I had to catch you before you left for court.”

“Sit down. More tea is coming.” He gestured toward the chair where Margaret used to sit, then, as she took it, he sat also. “You must have left home very early. Has something happened? I’m afraid I have no good news to tell you.”