“I should have thought that was obvious,” Darcy snapped. “It is about my father’s wrongful arrest and recent developments. And also about the fact that I am not being allowed to drive to my own home.”

The man swallowed hard. “I’ll go and see if he’s available.”

Darcy got out of the car. We waited inside. The snow was now falling quite heavily and snowflakes lingered on Darcy’s dark curls. But in spite of the cold the princess and I had both wound down our windows to be able to hear better. After a few minutes Chief Inspector Callahan appeared. “You wanted to see me, O’Mara?” he asked.

“I did, sir. First there’s the small matter that your constable won’t let me drive down the lane to my father’s house where I’m currently staying. I’ll be grateful if you’ll pass along a message that I’m allowed to my own home.”

“Oh yes. Of course,” he said. “The men tend to take their jobs too literally at times. Not always the brightest buttons in the box, if you get my meaning.”

“Thank you.” Darcy nodded. “I appreciate it. And as to the other matter: We’ve been to the American embassy again, so we’re fully up to date with developments in this case. Now that we know this man was clearly a fugitive, possibly a criminal, may we conclude that you are finally looking beyond my father as a possible suspect?”

“We are making our inquiries,” the inspector said, with a guarded expression on his face. “In fact the reason my men are here at the moment is to try to find any evidence of the man’s real identity.”

“Any luck?” Darcy asked.

“Not a trace, so far,” the inspector said. “The one thing that is evident is the lack of personal papers. No correspondence, nothing.”

“He was a man in hiding,” Darcy agreed. “Not wanting to be found. But somebody found him and killed him.”

“Hold on a moment. You can’t escape the fact that only your father’s fingerprints are on that club,” Callahan said.

“Rather strange that, wouldn’t you say?” Darcy said. “A club that’s thousands of years old and has only one set of fingerprints on it. And by the way, my father can tell you why his prints were on it. He went to see Roach that afternoon and the club was lying on the table. He found out that Roach was planning to sell it. He told him he couldn’t do that. It was a family heirloom of great value. While he was talking he picked up the club.”

“And came back that evening to do the deed,” Callahan said.