Claudine frowned, then looked up and met Hester’s eyes. “What happened to it? I wrote it out for Margaret, and she got me all those things. That list is several weeks old.”

Hester felt bruised, suddenly tired. “How many weeks?”

“I don’t know. Four, maybe five. Why? It hardly matters,” Claudine replied.

“You’re sure you gave it to Margaret?” Hester insisted.

“Yes, of course I am.”

“She actually got all those things for you?”

“Yes. If she hadn’t, I would have written it out again. But I didn’t have to. What is this about, Hester? Is something missing?”

“No. Nothing at all. It doesn’t have to do with the clinic.”

“I don’t understand.” Claudine looked thoroughly puzzled.

Hester shook her head a little. “You don’t want to,” she said gently. “It’s the message on the other side that’s important, not this. What happened to the list after she brought you the items on it?”

“I’ve no idea. I didn’t see it again after I gave it to her.”

“You didn’t check off the items against it?” Hester suggested.

“I had the receipts from the apothecary. Those are all I need for the ledger.”

“Are you quite sure you didn’t ever see the list again?”

“Not until now. Why?”

“Thank you.” Hester gave her a tiny smile, almost more of a grimace, and went out of the room, closing the door softly.

She gave the list back to Monk.

He waited.

“It’s Claudine’s list for Margaret to shop from,” she told him. “Margaret never gave it back, because Claudine took the prices from the apothecary’s receipts.” She swallowed hard. “I wish it weren’t.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I can’t leave it. If it’s Ballinger, I must still find him, not for Parfitt’s sake but because of the children.”

She nodded. “Oliver will defend him. He can’t refuse.” She watched Monk’s face. “We’ll have to have irrefutable proof.”

RUPERT CARDEW CLOSED THE door of the morning room behind him and stared at Monk. He still looked tired, as if the shock of arrest had not completely left him, even though he was now free. However, he was composed and courteous, and, as always, beautifully dressed.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Monk?” he asked.

Monk felt churlish, and it put him at a disadvantage.

“I apologize. What I have to ask you is extremely unpleasant, but this is a case I cannot afford to leave.”

Rupert looked surprised. “Really? You care so much that Parfitt is dead?”

“On the contrary. If that were all, I would be delighted to turn my time to something more important,” Monk admitted. “But I want to find the man behind the blackmail.”