Evan walked towards the window.

"It's unlatched," he said, moving it experimentally.

“I closed it,'' the doctor put in. "It was open when I came, and damned cold. Took it into account for the rigor, though, so don't bother to ask me. Maid said it was open when she came with Mrs. Haslett's morning tray, but she didn't sleep with it open normally. I asked that too."

"Thank you," Monk said dryly.

Evan pushed the window all the way up and looked outside.

"There's creeper of some sort here, sir; and it's broken in several places where it looks as if someone put his weight on it, some pieces crushed and leaves gone." He leaned out a little farther. "And there's a good ledge goes along as far as the drainpipe down. An agile man could climb it without too much difficulty."

Monk went over and stood beside him. "Wonder why not the next room?" he said aloud. "That's closer to the drainpipe, easier, and less chance of being seen."

"Maybe it's a man's room?" Evan suggested. "No jewelry-or at least not much-a few silver-backed brushes, maybe, and studs, but nothing like a woman's."

Monk was annoyed with himself for not having thought of the same thing. He pulled his head back in and turned to the doctor.

"Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"Not a thing, sorry." He looked harassed and unhappy. "I'll write it out for you, if you want. But now I've got live patients to see. Must be going. Good day to you."

"Good day." Monk came back to the landing door with him. "Evan, go and see the maid that found her, and get her ladies' maid and go over the room to see if anything's missing, jewelry in particular. We can try the pawnbrokers and fences. I'm going to speak to some of the family who sleep on this floor."

The next room turned out to be that of Cyprian Moidore, the dead woman's elder brother, and Monk saw him in the morning room. It was overfurnished, but agreeably warm;