“Not anymore. You have been relieved.” Mickelson turned again to Walker and said, “I’d like to see the statements you’ve taken from witnesses and the medical reports on the dead men. I’d also like to meet Mr. Pierce as soon as possible, and also Inspector Norman.” He opened the door of the police station, and Constable Walker hesitated.

“You needn’t look to Mr. Rutledge for instructions, man. I’ve told you, I’m here now.” And he strode into the station without waiting for Walker or saying anything more to Rutledge.

Walker, behind his back, began, “Sir—”

But Rutledge said only, “I’m leaving for London. Keep an eye on things until I’m able to return.”

He got back into the motorcar, and Walker had no choice but to step inside the station after Inspector Mickelson.

Furious, Rutledge drove first to the school and asked to see Mrs. Farrell-Smith. The girl who opened the door said nervously, “She’s not in, sir.”

“She should not ask you to lie for her,” he replied quietly, and took the stairs two at a time.

Mrs. Farrell-Smith looked up as Rutledge opened her office door without knocking. Then her gaze went to the girl at his back. “I thought I told you—” she began, but Rutledge cut her short.

“She told your lie for you. I didn’t believe her.” He turned to the girl, still standing in the doorway, her cheeks pink with uncertainty. “Thank you,” he said gently. “Please close the door as you go.”

She hesitated, and then did as he asked.

Mrs. Farrell-Smith said, “I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I have something to say to you. You’ve made a serious mistake, and it could easily get someone else killed. Will you rescind your complaint?”

“Why should I? I never wanted the Yard to handle this business in the first place. Inspector Norman is quite capable of clearing up these murders promptly and efficiently.”

“No doubt he could. He’s a good man. But you haven’t got Inspector Norman. Instead you still have the Yard, Mrs. Farrell-Smith, and I think you’ll find Inspector Mickelson is cut from a very different cloth.”

She stared at him. “But I expressly told them—”

He didn’t wait for her to finish. “I’m sure you did. But Mr. Pierce insisted earlier on bringing in the Yard, and I expect the Chief Constable understands that it is Mr. Pierce’s son who is among the murder victims, not yours. If you want to call off the Yard, then I suggest you find someone with more authority than a brewery owner to do your work for you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and went out the door.

This time, she didn’t call after him.