Hurriedly they again extended good wishes to Philip and Val. “I’ll be thinking of you on your big day,” Regan said, “September fourteenth, isn’t it?” She shook Penelope’s hand and kissed Lady Exner’s rouged cheek. “I know you’ll love sailing to New York,” she said.

“I’ll keep careful notes of my journey,” Veronica promised, “so that when I finally get to meet your mother I shall have a complete account of this new adventure in my remarkable life. You must give me your mother’s number. I understand New Jersey isn’t far from where my nieces live in Long Island.”

“Your nieces? I thought they were your cousins?” Regan asked.

“Nieces, cousins, whatever.”

“Well,” Regan said tentatively, “maybe you could get together with my mother for lunch in New York City.”

“SPLENDID!” Veronica cried. “Penelope,” she shouted, “get me a pen.”

For the rest of the day Regan and Kit attempted to pick up the schedule of the disrupted reunion. In the late afternoon they went punting on the river, followed by a buffet dinner in the home of the headmaster.

“A nice spread,” Kit commented to Regan. “What do you bet we get letters next week asking for alumnae donations?”

“You’re a born cynic,” Regan said in a low voice as she helped herself to potato salad. “We’ll just have to pretend they got lost in the mail.”

A number of the professors at the dinner had known Athena and invariably the conversation centered on the discovery of the body and the questioning by Superintendent Livingston.

It was 11 P.M. when Regan and Kit finally walked up the two flights to their room.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Kit said. “This dorm seems even more depressing than usual. At least we had a good time in Venice and Paris last week. What time did you say your flight is?”

“One o’clock. Just an hour after yours.”

Kit was flying to New York, Regan to Los Angeles.

They were at the room. Regan pulled the key out of her pocket and pushed open the door. There was an envelope on the floor addressed to her. “Call me no matter what time you get in. Desperately important.” It was signed Philip Whitcomb.

Chapter 6

KNOWING JOLLY WELL it was useless, Philip Whitcomb had tried to dissuade his Aunt Veronica from travelling alone on the Queen Guinevere. He, Val, the doctor and a most determined Lady Exner were in the small waiting area down the hall from Penelope’s room at Royal Oxford Hospital. Penelope’s moans could be heard the length of the corridor. She would be here at least two days recovering from acute food poisoning, and under no circumstances would she be well enough to go on holiday, at least not till the end of the week.