“Max, it’s not just Cassandra,” she finished. “It’s Mina Landis too. She was with Cassandra last night. They both went up to that barn.”

“Mina did? Then where is she now?”

“That’s the point, Max, no one knows. She’s disappeared. She’s not at home, she’s not at the manor, she’s not with the travelers, she’s not at the barn. Robert Landis just telephoned again. Apparently, the travelers are now claiming she left the place last night. In a car. With some man.”

Charlotte was close to tears. Max put his arms around her and drew her quietly aside.

“Darling, don’t,” Rowland heard him say. “You mustn’t. Think of the baby.”

Rowland turned away. The closeness of Max and Charlotte at such moments always moved him, and left him at the same time with a sense of exclusion, of bleakness. It was as if they spoke a private language, a married language, not one he had ever spoken, he thought, not one he was ever likely to learn. He noted that Lindsay, too, turned away at the same moment and began busying herself with the kettle at the stove. One of the dogs whined. Max and Charlotte continued to speak to each other in lowered voices.

Rowland leaned up against the window and stared out across the garden. A clock ticked; he felt a leaden exhaustion. Lindsay was making coffee; Max and Charlotte continued speaking, Max holding her closely to him, then persuading her to sit down. Genevieve Hunter, Rowland thought, looked ill; her face was white with strain. She was now watching Max and Charlotte. Max’s concern for his wife seemed to cause her some unaccountable pain.

“May I say something?” she began abruptly, interrupting Charlotte and speaking in a brusque, ill-judged tone. “We’re all wasting time. In the first place, Robert Landis wants Max to call him. He’s with the police in Cheltenham now.”

“Look, Gini, just leave it, okay?” Lindsay banged down the kettle and swung around. “Don’t let’s have another row. Just let Charlotte explain in her way. Give her time. She’s seven months pregnant, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“It would be hard not to notice,” Gini snapped. Charlotte gave her a look of reproach and surprise. Max frowned.

“Look, Gini,” he began quietly. “You don’t quite seem to understand the situation. And remarks like that don’t help. So, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Fine.” The warning went unheeded; Gini’s mouth tightened. “But all this speculation is pointless. It’s been going on for an hour now—more.”

“Gini, it’s not just speculation.” Charlotte took Max’s hand. “Lindsay and I were just trying to understand what could have happened. Mina could have been abducted. She could be dead too. There’s a hundred possibilities and they’re all horrible.”

“Abducted? That’s not what the witnesses say.” Gini turned back to Max. “Max, will you listen to me? The witnesses who spoke to Landis and the police were specific. Mina wasn’t drugged. She wasn’t unconscious. She wasn’t dragged into some car by some B-movie villain. Unless they’re lying, what happened is very clear.”