“I was getting to that. About ten minutes before the two of you came out, a chap comes through that door, throws something into the Thames, and limps off to the west. I lost sight of him.”

“Probably tossed the knife. He had a limp?”

“He had. Something wrong with his right leg, but I couldn’t see what. I was focusing on his face.”

“Did you get a good look?” asked Iris.

“Good enough,” said Sally, holding up a pair of opera glasses. “Should I go to the Yard and volunteer to pore over mug books?”

“How would you explain your presence in a boat at that location?” asked Iris.

“Innocent fishing expedition?”

“Dressed in a suit? With neither pole nor tackle box?”

“Incompetent neophyte fisherman? No, I don’t think I could sell that easily. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one yet,” said Iris. “The original plan didn’t allow for the blackmailer getting killed and relieved of the letters before we got there. We’re back to—well, I was going to say square one, but there’s a new game being played now. There’s still the other part of the original plan, but I won’t know the results of that until Monday.”

“So, if you didn’t get the letters, what happened to the money?”

Iris nodded towards the Hamleys bag sitting on Gwen’s lap.

“Really?” said Sally, his eyebrows arching. “There’s five thousand pounds in there?”

“Yes. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of tipping us into the Thames and sailing off into the sunset.”

“No,” said Sally. “But you could tell them the blackmailer grabbed the money and ran, then we could split it three ways.”

“No,” croaked Gwen. “Moral compass. Still functioning.”

“And she’s back,” said Iris. “How are you feeling, darling?”

Gwen held out her hand. Iris placed the flask in it.

“I say,” said Sally as she tilted it back. “Go easy. That’s hard to get.”

“It’s terrible,” said Gwen, replacing the cap. “What is it?”

“Canadian.”

“We never should have colonised the place,” she said. She was still trembling.

Iris put an arm around her and pulled her close. “You’ve had a shock,” she said. “You’ll be all right.”

“Like hell I will,” said Gwen. “How could the two of you be so calm? Rational? You were making jokes, for God’s sake!”

“Not my first body,” said Iris.

“And I’ve completely lost count,” said Sally. “Not that I’ve gotten used to the sight. Still remember the first quite vividly. I plan to work it into a play some day, if I can stop screaming long enough to write the scene. But I didn’t even get to see this one.”

“Why did he go in first?” asked Gwen, her voice still on the edge of hysteria. “He was supposed to come in after us. What was he doing there?”

“Maybe he was checking out the location early to make sure it was clear,” suggested Iris. “Only it wasn’t.”

“Could the killer have been someone there just randomly?” asked Gwen. “A tramp?”