“You were on very early in the scene, were you not?”
Mrs Saxton bowed her head in assent. “To my shame I was. Stent made out to me at first that they were getting Mr Monkton away for a brief space to render him harmless. They were connected with some schemes abroad, so he said, which Mr Monkton was using his powerful influence to thwart. I believed him, not knowing the real instigator. I called on Miss Monkton, as you will remember, for the purpose of pumping her, of finding in what quarter suspicion was directed.”
“Yes, we know that. And what part did your brother play in it all?”
A shade of embarrassment crept into her manner. She was willing to sacrifice Stent and Bolinski, but it was natural she should shield her brother as far as she could.
“He believed the first story they told him, which at the beginning imposed upon me. He kept watch for them in a way, told them what he could pick up of the various rumours flying about. He was in a state of great alarm one night, when some Member of the House of Commons had told him that Mr Monkton was acquainted with a man of the name of Stent.”
Reginald Monkton lifted his head. “It is true. I had known him slightly for some years, as a man connected with one or two companies, respectable ones, in which I had shares. I had no idea that he made the greater part of his money by fraud.”
“And what became of Mr Monkton that night?” asked Wingate, turning to Mrs Saxton.
“They caught him unawares, as he was walking from the House, threw a cloth, saturated with a stupefying drug, over his face, put him in a cab, driven by a confederate, and took him to Bolinski’s house. They then took off his outer clothes, put them on the person you call the dying man, who could only just walk, and rushed back to Westminster. There they got out, waited a few seconds, hailed a taxi, put him inside, and directed the driver to take him to Chesterfield Street. The rest of that episode you know.”
“And when was it that you went to Forest View, and masqueraded in the guise of a parlourmaid?”
A burning colour crept into her face at the question. It was easy to see that she was feeling her position acutely. It was some seconds before she could control herself sufficiently to order her speech.