Dark Assassin: A William Monk Novel
Anne Perry
Language: English
Pages: 352
ISBN: 0345514203
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
On a patrol boat near Waterloo Bridge, police superintendent William Monk notices a young couple engaged in an intense discussion. Seconds later, the two plunge to their deaths in the icy waters of the Thames. Was it an accident, a suicide, or a murder? Ever the investigator, Monk learns that the woman, Mary Havilland, had planned to marry the fair-haired man who shared her fate. He also discovers that Mary’s father had recently died in a supposed suicide. But Mary’s friends share their own darks suspicions with Monk, who now faces the mysteries surrounding three deaths. Aided by his intrepid wife, Hester, Monk searches for answers. From luxurious drawing rooms where powerful men hatch their unscrupulous plots, to the sewers beneath the city where poor folk fight crippling poverty, Monk must connect the clues before death strikes again.
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dead before the slide hit him,” he replied. “Dead bodies don’t bleed. The only blood staining anything is on his coat, from the bullet hole in his chest. The river didn’t wash that out.” Monk found himself shaking even more violently. “You mean he’s been murdered? Surely he’d never have shot himself!” “Not in the back, anyway,” Crow replied. “Went in under his left shoulder blade, came out the front. I reckon whoever employed him paid his last account.” Monk swallowed. “Are you absolutely
stable at midnight and buried in a suicide’s grave, his daughter Mary pressed his cause and took it up herself, didn’t she?” He was pointing his finger now. “And where is she? Also in a suicide’s grave! Along with your ally and younger brother.” His smile was triumphant. “Thank you, Mr. Argyll. The court needs no more from you, at least not yet!” He waved his arm to invite Rathbone to question Argyll if he should wish to. Rathbone declined. Victory was almost within his grasp. The judge blinked
life, but in return the children ate and were clothed, and to some extent protected. The thought of Scuff ending like that sickened him. There was no leniency in the courts for children. A thief was a thief. “Any idea who?” He found the words difficult to say. Orme must have heard the emotion in his voice. He looked at him quickly, then away again. “Some. Only the arms and legs o’ the gang, so to speak. Need to catch the ’ead to be any use. Won’t be easy.” “We’ll have to plan,” Monk replied.
“Come on.” He turned and started to walk. Cardman was surprised to see them again, but he invited them in. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” The hall had a bare look. The black crepe had been taken down along with the wreaths, but the clock was still stopped and there was no heating. It was Monk who spoke first this time. “I know the maid said that Mr. Havilland destroyed the note that took him to the stables the night he was killed, but it is extremely important that we learn everything
attempt to conceal his amusement or his interest. If Monk was out of his depth legally, then it offered an interesting problem, which was exactly what he craved. “Sit down and tell me.” Monk obeyed. Very briefly he described Mary Havilland’s fall from the bridge with Toby Argyll, then his discovery of James Havilland’s earlier death and the course of the investigation that had led to the arrest of Aston Sixsmith. “Surely you don’t want me to defend Sixsmith,” Rathbone said incredulously.