‘Turn her out at once,’ the Rajah said sharply. ‘I will not have her there.’

‘Tonight, Your Highness?’

‘You heard me! I said at once! I always disliked her! She has brought bad luck on the place.’

‘Your Highness has great wisdom! Your Highness’s instinct could never be at fault.’

‘Turn her out then.’

‘And if she has no money with which to return to her own country – to England?’

‘Is that my concern?’ the Rajah asked. ‘Let her starve! Why should I care!’

‘Let it be as Your Highness commands.’

Khusru bowed himself to the door. As he reached it, another servant entered the room. He carried a card on a silver salver which he handed to the Rajah. The Rajah looked at the card. Monsieur Gutier, Chef de la Sûreté! What does he want?’

‘To see Your Highness. Monsieur regrets if it is an inopportune moment, but he will not keep Your Highness more than a few minutes.’

‘Very well, show him in,’ the Rajah said.

As he waited, he frowned. What could the Police want with him? He could think of nothing in which he might have contravened the laws of the Principality.

The door opened again and Monsieur Gutier came into the room. He was a dapper little man, who looked his best in the spectacular blue and white uniform of the Monte Carlo Police.

‘You wish to see me?’ the Rajah asked.

‘I must apologise if I am disturbing Your Highness,’ he answered. But there is a small matter on which I should be grateful for your help.’

He drew from his breast pocket a leather wallet.

‘I have here,’ he said, his voice solemn and slightly pompous, ‘the personal effects of a man who, most unfortunately was found dead in the Casino Gardens the night before last’

‘Murder or suicide?’ the Rajah asked with a faint sneer.

He was well aware how much the authorities disliked either occurring in the precincts of Monte Carlo.

‘We assume it to have been suicide,’ Monsieur Gutier replied.

‘I suppose, as usual, he had lost all his money at the tables?’ the Rajah asked.

‘I should hardly imagine the gentleman in question had much money to lose.’

There was a reproach in the Detective’s voice, as if he resented the Rajah’s instantaneous assumption that the Casino was to blame. ‘At the same time, Your Highness may be able to tell us more about the deceased.’

‘I?’ the Rajah ejaculated. ‘Who was he?’

‘A man named Henry Dulton.’

‘I have never heard of him!’

‘Indeed!’

Monsieur Gutier’s tone was slightly sceptical.

‘Why should you think that I had?’ the Rajah enquired.

‘There was a letter in this wallet addressed to Your Highness. Perhaps you would like to read it.’

He held out a sheet of paper and the Rajah took it. The spidery, tiny writing was easier to read than Stella’s had been and he read quickly,