“We must make the coroner believe there is a question of murder,” Rathbone went on with rising eagerness. “If he thinks it is accident or suicide he will simply close the matter. And darrunit, that is going to be hard. The only possible guilty party is Ravensbrook, and that won't sit easily with any coroner I know.”

“So we had better begin now,” Monk said decisively. He looked at Goode. “I assume you will demand a full coroner's inquest for your client, and time to gather evidence?” He turned to Rathbone. “And you will ask to represent the Crown, since you are the prosecutor?” He turned lastly to Hester, assuming her agreement without it crossing his mind to ask her.

“You and I will begin to delve into Angus's past. We shall have to do it separately, because there is no time to do it together. You already know far more about Genevieve than I do.” Humor and self-mockery flickered across his face. “And you seem to be a far better judge of her character. Find out all you can of Angus from her, including where, when and how they first met, and all she knows of his relationship with Caleb, and Ravensbrook. This time, the truth. I shall go to Ravensbrook's country home and see what I can learn there. That is apparently where the brothers grew up.”

“What about the Isle of Dogs, and Limehouse?” Rathbone asked.

“I'll go there,” Hester said immediately. “After I have seen Genevieve, and perhaps Titus Niven.”

Goode was aghast. “You cannot go to Limehouse, Miss Latterly! You have not the faintest idea what it is like, or you would not entertain such a thought. A gentlewoman like yourself would be-”

“I have been nursing the typhoid victims there for more than a month, Mr.

Goode,” she said patiently. “I am in an excellent position to investigate in that quarter. I daresay I know more of the individual residents than anyone else. I could name you at least two hundred, and tell you their families and their ancestors. And I could tell you who they have lost recently. They will talk to me as they would not to any of you. That I can swear.”

Goode looked taken aback, and considerably impressed.

“I see. Perhaps I had better stick to my own last. Would I be presumptuous to be concerned for your safety?”

“Not at all, but probably unnecessarily worried,” she replied with a generous smile. “Since Caleb is dead, no one is going to feel the same urgency tþ defend him now, or fear the reprisals for betraying him by the truth.”

Rathbone rose to his feet. “I think a good night's sleep is called for, before we begin. Let us meet here again in three days' time and discuss what we have learned.”

“Agreed.” Goode rose also. “Miss Latterly, may I find you a hansom and escort you as far as your home?”