I had asked Viv the fashion expert when I returned to live in Notting Hill, and she informed me that a “jump” was an old term used for a large men’s shirt in the 1800s. Later, the term was tweaked to “jumper” and is now used to refer to a knitted or crocheted top. Huh.

As we took off for a ride into the village, I glanced at the distant hills dotted with woolly sheep. I saw one jump over a stone wall and thought from that point of origin the term fit. Then I pondered why Americans call knitted tops “sweaters.” I had no idea. I realized I was becoming more British every day and knew my English-born mother would be proud.

Now, the constables had been very clear that we weren’t to leave the premises but I’d done a little reconnaissance on my phone the day before, and by “recon” I mean I called the local library in the village and asked them if Dominick Falco’s address was public information. They assured me it was and gave it to me. Librarians for the win!

With their help, I discovered that Dominick Falco, the hatmaker, lived on the edge of the village closest to the castle. It would be a tragedy for Viv to be so close to him and not be able to visit. All I had to do was find a way off the grounds that would lead to the village. I was hoping there was a break in a hedgerow or something.

Andre and I had discussed my plan over breakfast, and he agreed to lead us since he had the most experience on horseback. I told him no jumps and, even though he looked disappointed, he agreed.

The late-morning air was brisk, and as we trotted past the front of the castle, one of the constables waved us down.

“Names?” he inquired.

“Scarlett Parker, Vivian Tremont and Andre Eisel,” I said. “We’re just taking a short ride around the castle to clear our heads.”

He stared at us, clearly undecided. He was short and stocky with a kindly face, and looked like he was coasting into his golden years. It would be a shame to cause him undue stress.

“Detective Inspector Stewart said it was fine,” I said.

“Oh, well then, enjoy your ride,” he said. He gave us a cheerful wave and we continued on, branching off onto a narrow lane.

“When did you ask Stewart?” Viv said.

“I’ll ask him when we get back,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll say it’s all right.”

“We’re going to end up in jail,” Andre said.

“No, we’re not,” I said. “We’re of no interest to the police.”

“Except that you’re the one who found the body,” Viv said.

“I didn’t even know the man,” I said. “I’m just a tiny detail in this investigation.”