The Silent Cry: A William Monk Novel
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Deep in London’s dangerous slums, Victorians transact their most secret and shameful business. For a price, a man can procure whatever he wants. But for one such man, the price he pays is his life. In sunless Water Lane, respected solicitor Leighton Duff lies dead, kicked and beaten to death. Beside him is the barely living body of his son, Rhys. The police cannot fathom these brutal assaults until shrewd investigator William Monk, aided by nurse-turned-sleuth Hester Latterly, uncovers a connection between them and a series of rapes and beatings of local prostitutes. But then the case takes an even more shocking turn.
So Wade accepted that Rhys was guilty. Was it simply the evidence they had presented? Or did he know something from Rhys himself, some communication, some long knowledge and perception of the boy’s nature over the years? “No man could do what was done to those women, Doctor, and be what you and I understand as sane,” Evan replied quickly. “Blame is not for us to decide … thank God.” Wade took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, then nodded his acknowledgment and walked past Evan to the
but she had them crooked and they would not reach. She snatched his jacket and threw it over him just as his eyes fluttered open. “Rhys!” She choked on the word, the anguish inside her spilling out, her throat aching, her hands trembling and clumsy. He gasped, drawing in his breath. He was fighting her, trying to lash out, force her away. “Rhys!” She clung onto his arms, above the splints, her fingers digging into his flesh. “Rhys, I know what happened to you! It’s not your fault! You are not
you presently have a patient?” “Yes. I have been employed to nurse Rhys Duff since he returned from the hospital after the incident in Water Lane.” “Was there also a doctor in attendance?” “Dr. Corriden Wade. He has been the family physician for many years, I understand.” The judge leaned forward. “Please restrict yourself to what you know, Miss Latterly.” “I’m sorry, my lord.” “Have you any experience in the army of men injured in the same manner and degree as Rhys Duff was, Miss
happens to the innocent … that way it won’t happen to them.” “Yes, of course I know that.” Monk’s temper was short and his head still throbbed. “But whether a woman deserves to be raped or not, she doesn’t deserve to be beaten, to have her teeth knocked out or her ribs broken. She doesn’t deserve to be knocked to the ground by two men at once, then punched and kicked.” Evan flinched as if he had seen it as Monk described. “No, of course she doesn’t,” he agreed, looking at Monk steadily. “But
and asked him to wait while she discovered if Mrs. Duff would see him. However, when the door opened it was Hester who came in quickly, closing it behind her. She was wearing blue, her hair was dressed a little less severely than usual, and she looked flushed, but with vitality rather than fever or any embarrassment. He had always liked her, but now he thought perhaps she was also prettier than he had realized before, softer, more openly feminine. That was another thing he wondered about, why