Page 5 of Revenge in a Cold River (William Monk 21)

Worth considered it for a moment. “No, sir,” he said, looking straight at Monk. “I don’t think he knew rightly why he was here. He acted all surprised. I took it as putting it all on when he was here, but now I think maybe he did have no idea.”

“Interesting. Go on.”

“We were going about half an hour, getting nothing we hadn’t worked out anyway, when we were interrupted. A man had said he was a lawyer for Mr. Blount, and we weren’t to go on without him being there. There was nothing we could do about that, so we had the lawyer in…if he was a lawyer…”

“Why do you doubt it?”

Worth’s face reflected his embarrassment. “Because that’s when it all started. There was a whole ruckus outside. Two more men came in and attacked the prison guard who was waiting in the next room….”

“Only one?” Monk leaned forward. “You said there were two.”

“One of them had gone to relieve himself, sir.” Worth looked unhappy.

“And these other two took advantage of that?” It was easy to imagine. And interesting. It sounded like a mixture of planning and opportunism.

“Yes, sir,” Worth agreed. “They did.”

“Were they armed?”

“Yes, sir, with big, heavy cudgels. Broke the guard’s arm.”

“The two of them?”

“Yes, sir. Hit me over the head, and must have hit Logan, too, as when I come to myself again, Logan was lying on the floor and the chair Blount’d been manacled to was smashed, like someone’d been at it with an ax.”

“And Blount was gone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did anyone else see any part of this? Either the two men coming in, or leaving with Blount?”

“Yes, sir. Blount was seen going off with one of them. But they was about the same height and build as the prison officers, and in the rain, all huddled up, they just thought it was them gone again. The second man obviously just made himself scarce.” He moved uncomfortably in his seat.

“And the man who said he was a lawyer?” Monk asked.

“He said he’d been struck, too, sir.”

“Said? You doubted him?”

“Thinking about it, yes, sir. I knew how I felt, an’ he didn’t look anything like it.”

Monk nodded. “I would like you to think hard. I’m only asking for your impressions. Do you think Blount was expecting to be rescued? Did he play for time with you? Seem nervous, as if he were expecting to be interrupted? Was he in the least afraid?”

Worth blinked, struggling to give Monk the answer he wanted.

“He was in prison already,” Monk pointed out. “Did you threaten him with anything? I need the exact truth, Mr. Worth. Was he agitated at all?”

“No, he wasn’t. In fact he was rather insolent,” Worth answered carefully. “As if he knew there weren’t nothing we could do to him. Actually, sir, I thought it was a waste of time, myself. He was a real fly one, Blount. I never thought we’d get anything out of him.”

“Not fly enough to avoid getting both drowned and shot!” Monk said bleakly. “Thank you, Mr. Worth. You have been of considerable help. I don’t suppose you have any idea which of your superiors thought Blount would give Mr. Haskell away? Or whoever it was that paid him?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“I didn’t think you would.” Monk rose to his feet. “That’s all. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir.” Worth was on his feet, standing to attention. “Thank you, sir.”

A good officer, Monk thought. Maybe one day he would take him away from McNab. He would make a good river policeman. They needed recruits.