It was a tactical error. As soon as he said it he was aware of his mistake, but he did not know immediately how to retract it.

"On the contrary, Mr. Tobias," Hester said with a cold smile. "I have merely testified as to facts. It is you who are searching to invest them with some emotional value because it appears you do not like to be proved mistaken, which I cannot understand, since we are all aware you prosecute or defend as you are engaged to, not as a personal vendetta against anyone. At least I believe that to be the case?" She allowed it to be a question.

There was a rustle of movement around the room, a ripple of nervous laughter.

Tobias blushed. "Of course that is the case. But I am vigorous in it!"

"So am I!" she said tartly. "And my emotions are no less honorable than your own, except that law is not my profession ..." She allowed the sentence to remain unfinished. They could draw their own conclusion as to whether she considered her amateur status to mark her inferiority in the matter or the fact that she did not take money for it and thus had a moral advantage.

"If you have no further questions, Mr. Tobias," the judge said, resuming command, "I shall adjourn the court until such time as this unfortunate woman is identified, then perhaps we shall also examine the hospital apothecary’s records and be certain in the matter of what was stolen and when." He banged his gavel sharply and with finality.

Monk left the court without having heard Hester’s second testimony. He went straight back to the Hampstead police station to find Sergeant Robb. It was imperative now that they learn who the dead woman had been. The only place to begin was with the assumption that Miriam had told the truth, and therefore she must have had some connection with Aiden Campbell.

"But why is he lying?" Robb said doubtfully as they set out along the street in the hazy sunlight. "Why? Let us even suppose that he seduced Miriam when she was his maid, or even raped her, it would hardly be the first time that had happened. Let us even say the woman on the Heath was a cook or housekeeper who knew about it, that’d be no reason to kill her."

"Well, somebody killed her," Monk said flatly, setting out across the busy street, disregarding the traffic and obliging a dray to pull up sharply. He was unaware of it and did not even signal his thanks to the driver, who shouted at him his opinion of drunkards and lunatics in general and Monk in particular.

Robb ran to catch up with him, raising a hand to the driver in acknowledgment.

"We’ve nowhere else to start," Monk went on. "Where did you say Campbell lived—exactly?"

Robb repeated the address. "But he moved to Wiltshire less than a year after that. There won’t necessarily be anyone there now who knows him or anything that happened."