Suddenly Hester had a flash of understanding. "Mary Havilland!" she said quickly. "Are you speaking of Mary Havilland?" It would make perfect sense with the little that Monk had told her of the death on the river.

Morgan Applegate and Rose looked at each other, then at Hester. Rose was now pale, her hazel eyes troubled. "The news has spread so widely already?" she asked softly.

Applegate reached over to put his hand on her arm. It was an extraordinarily protective gesture, as gentle as if he touched some wound.

"No," Hester answered, lowering her own voice, aware now that she was dealing with real and present pain. "I know of it only because my husband is in the River Police and was the one who actually saw it happen."

Rose gave an involuntary gasp, and Applegate's hand tightened slightly on her arm. Hester could see in their eyes that they wanted to ask more but dared not, afraid of the finality of the answer.

"He isn't sure what happened," Hester told them. "It wasn't possible to see from that distance, and of course they were looking upwards." She knew why Monk was so reluctant to believe it, but she could not tell these people of her own loss. She had thought the pain of it was healed, safe as long as it was not touched. She had not tried to remember her father's face for a long time, perhaps not since she had learned to believe that Monk loved her enough to let go of his own fears.

"My husband is trying to find out precisely what happened," she added.

Rose blinked. "You mean ... it might not be taken as suicide?" There was a flare of hope in her eyes. "She would never have killed herself.' I'd stake anything on that!"

"Rose ...," Applegate began.

She shook him off impatiently, without taking her eyes from Hester's. "If you had known Mary, I wouldn't have to tell you that. She had far too much courage to give up. She simply wouldn't! She was too . .. too angry to let them get away with it!"

Hester saw Applegate wince, but was beginning to appreciate already that he had no control over his wife's passion. If Rose was outspoken, that was part of her nature, and part of what he loved in her.

"Angry with whom?" Hester asked. "Circumstances or people? The Big Stink was appalling. We can't allow it to happen again. And the typhoid was even worse. Some of the soldiers died of typhoid in the Crimea. I wouldn't wish it on Satan himself."