Monk understood very well. He shared the view. He wished now he had been wise enough to follow his original judgment and refuse the case when Lucius had first asked him.

"I am aware of the possibilities, Mr. Campbell," he answered quietly. "I share your opinion that I may not be able to find Mrs. Gardiner, and that if I do, she still might wish to stand by her decision. However, I have given my word to Mr. Stourbridge that I would look for her, and I will do so." Then, sensing the sharpness in Campbell’s face, he added, "I have informed him of my opinion as to the chances of success, and I shall continue to be honest with him as to my progress or lack of it."

Campbell remained silent, pushing his hands into his pockets and staring at the floor.

"Aiden," Verona said gently. "I know you believe that she will not return and that only more disillusion and unhappiness will follow from seeking her, but neither Harry nor Lucius will accept that. They both feel compelled to do all they can to find out where she is, if she is unhurt, and why she left. Harry almost certainly for Lucius’s sake, of course, but he is nonetheless resolved. I believe we should help them, rather than make them feel isolated and as if we do not understand."

Campbell raised his eyes and looked at her steadily. "Of course." He smiled, but the effort behind it was apparent to Monk. "Of course, my dear. You are perfectly right. It is something which must run its course. How can I assist you, Mr. Monk? Let me take you to the stables and enquire after James Treadwell. He may be at the heart of this."

Monk accepted, thanking Verona and excusing himself. He followed Campbell down the stairs and out of the side door to the mews. The light was bright as he stepped outside. The smells of hay, horse sweat and the sharp sting of manure were strong in the closed heat of the yard. He heard a horse whinnying, and stamping its feet on the stones.

A ginger-haired boy with a brush in one hand looked up at him with curiosity.

"Answer Mr. Monk’s questions, Billy," Campbell instructed. "He’s come to help Major Stourbridge find Treadwell and the missing carriage."

"Yer in’t never goin’ ter see them again, I reckon," Billy replied, pulling his mouth into a grimace of disgust. "Carriage like that’s worth a fair bit."

"You think he sold it and went off?" Monk asked.

Billy regarded him with contempt. " ’Course I do. Wot else? ’E lit outta ’ere like ’e were on fire! Nobody never told ’im ter. ’E never came back. If ’e din’t flog it, w’y in’t ’e ’ere?"

"Perhaps he met with an accident?" Monk suggested.

"That don’t answer w’y ’e went in the first place." Billy stared at him defiantly. "Less ’e’s dead, ’e should ’a told us wot ’appened, shouldn’t ’e?"