Funeral in Blue by Anne Perry

Author:Anne Perry
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780345449498
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2001-09-30T20:00:00+00:00

Monk went to see Kristian in prison to learn from him any information at all which might help, no matter how painful or how irrelevant it might seem.

He was not surprised to see him looking haggard, almost shrunken, as if the shock of Elissa’s murder and his own arrest had drained the heart out of him, and even something of the physical substance. Monk had seen it before in other men.

“I’m going to Vienna,” he said quickly, knowing they had only minutes. “I need all the help you can give me.”

Kristian shook his head. “I can’t believe Max would have killed her,” he said quietly. “Quarreled, perhaps, lost his temper with her for what she was doing, that she was . . . wasting herself.” The pain in his voice was like a razor edge. “And even what she was costing me, and the work I believe in. But he wouldn’t have hurt her!”

It was brutal to discuss it, but neither of them could afford to be gentle at the expense of reality.

“He came over here to see Elissa . . . not you,” Monk said. “Several times.” He saw Kristian wince, and noted the confusion in his face.

Kristian shook his head. “He wouldn’t have hurt her,” he repeated, his voice hoarse.

“Her neck was broken in one movement,” Monk reminded him. “It was probably like this.” He put his arm in front of him, as if he were holding one hand over someone’s mouth, and crushing that person’s body to his chest with the other. He made a swift movement. “As if they had struggled and he had tried to hold her, wrenching around, perhaps one foot on hers.”

Kristian shuddered, and his mouth pulled strangely twisted.

“He probably didn’t mean to kill her,” Monk went on. “Perhaps only to stop her from crying out.”

Kristian closed his eyes. “And Sarah Mackeson?” he said in a whisper. “Whoever killed her meant to!” He shuddered convulsively. Imagination, or a memory too hideous to bear? Or the realization that Max Niemann could be guilty after all?

“Tell me about him,” Monk demanded tensely. “Kristian, for God’s sake, give me all you can! I need to find the truth. If it isn’t Niemann, then I need to know that. But someone killed them . . . both!”

Kristian made an effort to regain his composure and appeared to concentrate, but still he said nothing, as if the past enclosed him in its reality and the present ceased to be.

“Somebody’s going to the rope for it!” Monk said brutally. “If you didn’t kill them, don’t let it be you! Are you protecting someone?” He had no idea who. Why should Kristian die to save Max Niemann? Or to hide something that had happened in Vienna thirteen years ago? He couldn’t possibly think Callandra had any part in it. Did he even know how much she loved him? Monk doubted it.

“I’m not defending anyone!” Kristian said with startling force, almost anger. “I just don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t any idea who killed them, or why.

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