Lennox shook his head. “A few months after they were sentenced they managed to escape. They cut their way into a ventilation shaft, went down a wall on a rope and swam for it. Through the grapevine we believed they had arranged a boat to be waiting for them, but there was a high wind that night, and the water was quite rough. We found Skeets Kelly’s body washed up on the San Francisco shoreline. Bugsy was never found, presumed drowned.”

“And the contents of the mail truck?” Darcy asked.

“Never found, either.”

He looked around us with satisfaction.

“So you think that the man who called himself Timothy Roach was really Bugsy Barker?” Darcy said, his voice sounding unsteady. “He didn’t drown, but was rescued by the boat?”

Lennox nodded. “We’re beginning to consider that possibility.”

“Of course,” I exclaimed as something struck me, then flushed as all eyes turned to me. “Bugsy, and he chooses the name Roach. Isn’t it funny how often people give themselves away in their choice of names?”

“Well done.” Mr. Lennox looked at me with new appreciation. “Quite astute.”

“Then if Professor Peabody was really this Lofty person,” Zou Zou chimed in, “he discovered who Roach was and came to seek revenge for being left behind and for leaving their fellow gang member to drown.”

Lennox nodded again. “But I think it’s more likely that Lofty came to find out where the rest of the loot was hidden. Obviously Bugsy/Roach used some of the cash to buy the property. But none of the bonds or jewels have turned up yet.”

“You think Bugsy brought them with him to Ireland and has hidden them in the castle?” I asked. “Do you think Mickey was sent to find them? Or do you think that Bugsy was doing him a favor by hiding him over here?”

“The latter, probably,” Mr. Lennox said.

“Until Lofty showed up, posing as Professor Peabody, and persuaded him to help find the bonds and jewels.” Zou Zou clapped her hands like a delighted child.

“Or threatened to go to the police and expose him,” I added.

“So he had to have let Lofty in, planted evidence against my father, and got Lofty away again after they killed Bugsy,” Darcy said.

All this time Lord Kilhenny had sat silent and brooding, staring into the fire as if he was in his own world. Now he looked up. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “The man who called himself Timothy Roach was really Bugsy Something, leader of a gang. And Mickey and this professor chap are really former gang members?”

“That’s correct,” Lennox said.

Darcy’s father continued to stare into the flames. “Can any of this be proven?” he asked.

“I’ve already asked the Garda to arrest Mickey Riley, alias Mickey Weasel McHenry,” Lennox said. “I think he’s the kind of small-time crook who will squeal.”