“The fact that Lord Ravensbrook did not cry out until after he had sustained six very minor wounds,” she answered him. “And Caleb had sustained one fatal slash across the jugular vein and was already dead.”

He leaned forward, staring at her intently.

“Are you suggesting, ma'am, that Lord Ravensbrook was a willing actor in Caleb's death, either by suicide or by murder?' “Not quite. We do not believe it likely Caleb would have killed himself.

Why should he? His defense had not even begun.” She looked at him intently.

“Had he not some realistic chance of escaping conviction, or at least conviction of anything worse than not reporting a fatal accident? If I were defending him”-she ignored Goode's sharp start of amazement-”l should plead a fight in which Angus had accidentally been killed, perhaps fallen into the river, hit his head, and Caleb had been afraid to report it, since he could not prove what had happened, and knowing the quarrel between them, and his own reputation, expected no one would believe him. After all, there is no witness to say anything differently.”

Goode leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs.

“Would you indeed?”

“Yes,” she said decisively. “Wouldn't you?”

A sudden, dazzling smile broke across his face. “Yes, ma'am, indeed I would, especially after the weight of evidence produced by the prosecution.

I think trying to rebut it simply as not proven would be insufficient. The jury do not like Caleb Stone, and Mrs. Stonefield has aroused a considerable sympathy.”

“Was that what you intended?” Rathbone demanded. “Were you going to call Caleb tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Goode answered. “I have no one else. Why? What light can that throw upon his death?”

“None, unless we knew what he was going to say.” Monk spoke for the first time. “Plainly, was he going to say something about Angus which it would have been worth killing him to keep secret?”

“Ravensbrook?” Goode's voice rose almost to falsetto. “You think Lord Ravensbrook murdered Caleb in his cell to keep him silent?”

“Obviously you don't,” Rathbone said dryly. “So you cannot know of anything such as we suggest.”

“Or else he does not know its effect.” Monk could not let go so easily.

“Perhaps he knows what it is, but not its meaning, or what it could lead to.” He swiveled around to face Goode. “What was he going to say?” Goode bit his lip. “Well, with a normal client, I would know the answer, or I would not ask the question. But with Stone all I could do was guess.