Before Rathbone could answer her, the door opened and Corriden Wade came in. He looked deeply concerned, his face was gaunt as if he had slept little, and there was a tension in him which was apparent even before he spoke. He looked at Rathbone with surprise and some anxiety.
Sylvestra stood up immediately and went over to him, relief and expectation in her eyes.
"Corriden, this is Sir Oliver Rathbone whom I have engaged to defend Rhys. We are searching for anything whatever which may help. He has spoken to Joel, but it seems he feels Rhys was an unfortunate influence upon Arthur and Duke, and being the man he is, he cannot speak anything but the truth. I suppose I should admire him for that, and if it were of anyone else, I should be the first to applaud him." She bit her lip. "Which proves what a hypocrite I am, because I cannot! I wish desperately that he could bend a little, I suppose be less honourable!
Isn't that a dreadful thing to say? I never thought I would hear myself say such a thing! You will be ashamed of me.”
Wade put his arm around her.
"Never, my dear. It is only human to wish to protect those one loves, especially when there is no one else to do so. You are his mother. I should expect no less of you." He glanced at Rathbone, looking past Sylvestra. "How do you do, sir. I am Corriden Wade, physician to the family, and at present Rhys is in my care for his physical needs." He nodded towards Hester. "And Miss Latterly's, of course. She has done excellently well for him.”
Rathbone had risen when Sylvestra did, now he came forward and bowed in acknowledgement of Wade's introduction.
"How do you do, Dr. Wade. I am very pleased you have come. We shall medically need your assistance when the time comes. I believe you have known Rhys a long time?”
"Since he was a small child," Wade answered. He looked worried, as if he feared what Rathbone might ask him. "I wish more intensely than you can know that I could offer some testimony which would mitigate this appalling tragedy, but I have been unable to think of any." He still had his arm resting lightly on Sylvestra's. "What will be your defence, Sir Oliver?”
"I do not yet know sufficient to say," Rathbone replied smoothly. If he was as frightened as Hester felt, he hid it superbly. She thought he probably was. There was a stiffness to the way he stood, a hesitation in his voice which she had seen before, at the worst times in past cases, when it seemed there was no escape from disaster, no solution but tragedy and failure.
"What more is there to learn?" Wade asked. "Mrs. Duff has told me what the police believe: that Rhys had been keeping company with women of the street, the lowest element in our society, spreaders of disease and depravity, that he had exercised a certain amount of violence in these relationships, and that Leighton had come to suspect as much.
When he followed him and taxed him with his behaviour, they fought.
Rhys was injured, as you know, and Leighton, perhaps being an older man, taken by surprise, was killed. Is it any defence to suggest the fight was not intended to go so far, and that death was accidental?" He looked doubtful even as he said it.
"If two men fight and one of them dies, unless it can be demonstrated that it was accidental," Rathbone replied, 'it will be proved to be murder. For it to be manslaughter, we should have to show that Leighton Duff tripped over by mischance, or fell on some weapon he was carrying himself, or something of that nature. I am afraid that was very clearly not so. The injuries were all inflicted by fist or boot.
Such things are not accidental.”
Wade nodded. "That is what I had feared. Sir Oliver, do you think we might continue this discussion in private. It can only be most distressing for Mrs. Duff to listen to.”
"No," Sylvestra said sharply. "I will not be excluded from…
something which may affect my son's life! Anyway, if it is evidence, I shall hear it in court. I should prefer to hear it now, and at least be prepared.”
"But, Sylvestra, my dear…”
"I am not a child, Corriden, to be protected from the truth. This will happen, whatever I choose to ignore or pretend. Please give me the dignity of bearing it with some courage, not running away.”
Wade hesitated, his face dark.
"Of course," Rathbone said with admiration. "Whatever the outcome, you will have peace of mind only if you know that you failed in nothing that could conceivably have been of help.”
Sylvestra looked at him, a moment's gratitude in her eyes.
"So the charge will be murder, Sir Oliver?”
"Yes. I am afraid there is no possible defence of accident.”
"And it is not imaginable that Leighton attacked Rhys or that Rhys in any way was defending himself," Wade continued gravely. "Leighton may have been appalled by Rhys's behaviour, but the most he would have done would be to raise his hand. He may have struck Rhys, but many a father chastises his son. It does not end in murder. I know of no son who would strike back.”
"Then what defence can there be?" Sylvestra said desperately. For a moment her eyes flashed to Hester, then back to the men. "What else is left? Who else is there? Not Arthur or Duke, surely?”
"I am afraid not, my dear," Wade said, dropping his voice. "Had they been involved they would be injured also, very profoundly so. And you and I both know that they were not. Unless the police can find two or three ruffians in St. Giles, there was no one. And if they could have done that, they would not have come here to accuse Rhys." He took a deep breath. "I am truly grieved to say this, but I think the only defence that is believable is that the balance of Rhys's mind has been affected, and simply he is not sane. That, surely, will be the path you will follow, Sir Oliver? I know of excellent people who may be prevailed upon to examine Rhys, and give their opinions, in court of course.”
"Insanity is not easy to prove," Rathbone answered. "Rhys appears very rational when one speaks to him. He is obviously of intelligence, and conscience.”
"Good God, man!" Wade said with an explosion of emotion. "He beat his father to death, and very nearly at the cost of his own life! How can any sane person do that? They must have fought like animaL! He must have been frenzied to… to do such a thing! I saw Leighton's body…
." He stopped as abruptly as he had begun, his face white, eyes hollow. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out in a sigh. "I'm sorry, Sylvestra. I should never have said that. You did not need to know… to hear it like that. I'm so sorry! Leighton was my best friend… a man I admired enormously, with whom I shared experiences I have with no one else. That it should end like this is… devastating!”
"I know," she said quietly. "You have no need to apologise, Corriden.
I understand your anger and your grief." She looked at Rathbone. "Sir Oliver, I think Dr. Wade could be right. I should be obliged if you would make every effort you can to find evidence, testimony, which will substantiate Rhys's imbalance of mind. Perhaps there were signs beforehand, but we did not understand them. Please call upon the best medical men. I am informed that I have funds to meet any such expenses. It…" she laughed jerkily, painfully. "It seems preposterous that I am using the money Leighton left for us to defend the son who killed him. If that is not insane, I wonder what is? And yet I have to! Please, Sir Oliver…”
"I will do all I can," Rathbone promised. "But I cannot go beyond what is provably true! Now I am sure you wish to see your patient, Dr.
Wade, and I would like to take my leave and consider my next step forward.”