"It could be..." she said slowly, staring back at him. "If it were pure ... to act within a few hours. Especially if she ate nothing." Her voice rose a little, getting more urgent. "She didn't wash her hands after touching the jewelry?"

"No. She went straight back into court. I don't imagine at that point she would think of such a thing . .. still less of a taste."

"I don't think it tastes unpleasant," she answered. "Children sometimes eat the fruit by mistake."

"Does it kill them?" he asked.

"Yes, it does, usually. And this would be concentrated."

"Where would she have got it?" He tried to keep the sense of victory out of his voice, but it was there in spite of him.

"An herbalist, or even distill it herself," she replied, not taking her eyes from his.

"There won't be berries this time of the year."

"You don't need the berries. Any part of it is poisonous... berries, flowers, roots, leaves, anything at all!"

Monk clenched his fist. "That's it! That's how she did it! By God, she's clever! Now, how can we prove it?" He sat back on the chair. He was warm at last, and very comfortable in Gabriel's shirt and trousers. He felt elated. He knew the truth! And Keelin Melville had not killed herself. She had not died in drowning despair, surrendering. It had not even been directly his, or Rathbone's, failure which had been responsible.

"Is she buried yet?" Hester asked. "Perhaps if they haven't washed her hands ... under the nails ..."

"Yes," he answered before she finished. "They buried her." The words hurt. "As a suicide ... in unhallowed ground. Even Wolff was not permitted to be there."

"God won't care," she said with unwavering conviction. "But without her hands to look at... what about the suit she wore? Do you think we could see that? Or did they bury her in it?" There was finality in her voice, as if she expected the answer even before he gave it.

"I don't know, but I expect they did bury her in it. Why would they be bothered to change it? And Delphine took the packet back. She was careful enough for that."

"What about the jewelry itself?" she asked, but without hope.

"It wouldn't prove anything much, except to us," he replied. "Only that she had belladonna in the same pocket... not that anyone else put it there. Delphine would simply say that Melville had a packet of belladonna powder in her pocket and it burst or came undone. We couldn't prove otherwise— even if we knew it!"

"Then I don't think we can prove it," Hester said slowly.