‘If you belong to the theatre,’ Peregrine said, ‘you belong utterly.’

They went out to the portico.

Here they found an enormous Daimler and a chauffeur. It was like a recurrent symbol in a time play and for a moment Peregrine felt as if Mr Conducis had called again to take him to Drury Place.

‘Is that Dessy’s car?’ Emily said.

But it wasn’t Destiny Meade in the back seat. It was an enormous and definitively hideous lady flashing with diamonds, lapped in mink and topped with feathers.

She tapped on the glass and beckoned.

When Peregrine approached she let down the window and, in a deep voice, addressed him.

‘You can perhaps assist me. I have this morning arrived from America. I vish to inquire about the Shakespearian Relics. I am Mrs Constantia Guzman.’

By The Same Author

A Man Lay Dead

Enter a Murderer

The Nursing Home Murder

Death in Ecstasy

Vintage Murder

Artists in Crime

Death in a White Tie

Overture to Death

Death at the Bar

Surfeit of Lampreys

Death and the Dancing Footman

Colour Scheme

Died in the Wool

Final Curtain

Swing, Brother, Swing

Opening Night

Spinsters in Jeopardy

Scales of Justice

Off With His Head

Singing in the Shrouds

False Scent

Hand in Glove

Dead Water

Death at the Dolphin

Clutch of Constables

When in Rome

Tied up in Tinsel

Black As He’s Painted

Last Ditch

Grave Mistake

Photo-Finish

Light Thickens

Black Beech and Honeydew (autobiography)

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