“He says he was in the kitchen, washing up Roach’s late supper. That’s down two floors from the library and the walls are rather solid. He didn’t know that anyone else was in the house. He came up and stumbled upon the body.”

“Has your father engaged a good lawyer?” I asked.

This made Darcy laugh again. “He’s using the family solicitors, Leach and Leach. They’ve been our family lawyers since seventeen hundred and something. Old Mr. Leach must be eighty and his son approaching sixty.”

“Then you must persuade them to hire a top-notch barrister.”

“Top-notch barristers cost money and we have none. Besides, what would be the point? The prosecutor would show the jury the weapon with my father’s fingerprints on it and they’d all find him guilty.”

I stopped and swung to face him. “You really believe he’s guilty, don’t you? Your own father. You don’t even want to save him from the noose.”

“Of course I want to save him,” Darcy retorted angrily. “But I have to face facts. You have to face facts. And the big question is, who else could have done it?”

“That’s what we have to find out,” I said.

Chapter 13

MONDAY, DECEMBER 3

AT KILHENNY.

As we approached the village Darcy released his hand from mine.

“We can’t be too careful,” he said. “There are news reporters staying at the Harp, just hoping for the odd juicy detail for their readers. Star-crossed lovers would be just what they are looking for. Especially if one of them is almost royal. Can’t you see the headline?”

I nodded. The high street had now come to life. A wagon loaded high with peat was wending its way slowly past. Two housewives had just come out of the baker’s shop. The enticing aroma of freshly baked bread wafted toward us. A farmer walked past, a sheepdog at his heels. He nodded curtly to Darcy but said nothing.

“We must keep an eye out for an American reporter,” I muttered to Darcy. “She tried to weasel out of me who I was visiting and why I was here. I lied and said I was Miss Pauncefoot-Smith, visiting a sick friend.”

“Not Chomondley-Fanshaw?” Darcy grinned. It was the first time his face had relaxed since he appeared at the open door.

“It was the first thing that came into my head,” I said.

“But all the more reason to get you away from here rapidly,” he whispered. “These press people are not stupid. It won’t take them long to find out who you really are, and then they’ll never leave you alone.”

“I’m not going back to England,” I whispered back. “I suppose I could find somewhere to stay in Dublin and still be able to help. I presume that’s where the detectives are situated, isn’t it? I might be able to find out something useful for you.”