‘But if you remembered it all, why on earth didn’t you tell me when I came to see you four years ago?’

‘Well, I didn’t remember it then. Johannes reminded me about the business of the library a little later… ’

‘But you’re suggesting in this letter that you knew all the time. This will make everyone think that you told us, and that we must have gone looking for the concerto because of that, but you didn’t. Lisa, do you have the first idea of how stupid this makes me look, and my sister, and, for goodness’ sake, the Swedish minister?’

‘Baron Palmstierna? I thought you didn’t like him.’

‘He’s my sister’s closest friend, and probably the best-respected ambassador in the country. And he’s the man who went to the library and found the actual manuscript.’

Alec gave a nod. ‘Whatever you think of his spiritual leanings, Baron Palmstierna is a highly intelligent man and an internationally prominent diplomat. He’s not a gullible idiot. And I’m very much afraid that you have suggested, by implication, that he is.’

‘Oh, good heavens.’ Elisabeth drummed her fingers. ‘That was never the idea.’

‘What about Adolf Busch?’ Jelly asked. ‘We once met his brother, Fritz, at Glyndebourne – he’s the conductor there – and Donald Tovey knows them.’

‘I’m not sure… I think he played it. I am sure I heard of him playing it. If you know his brother, perhaps you can ask him. Or your friend, Sir Donald. Obviously you’re convinced you know more about it than I do.’

‘Elisabeth, this isn’t very helpful,’ Alec said. ‘You should see the heap of hate mail Jelly’s been sent. It’s quite terrifying. It started with that Rollo Myers article, of course, and that’s what prompted you to write your letter. And you’re right, of course: yes, the gossip is sickening and, yes, we need to stop it, so I think there is something you can do to help bring that about.’

‘Let me get just this right, once and for all,’ Elisabeth said. ‘Before this, none of you had any idea the piece existed?’

‘I certainly didn’t. I went to see Tovey. He looked it up and found it was real.’

‘And my father never told Adila about it?’

‘She insists not,’ said Alec.

‘And now you’re receiving threats and abuse because a report in a magazine has sensationalised the suppression of the concerto, and nobody can stomach that story about the spirits?’

‘That is why exactly what you do or do not remember makes a world of difference, and why your letter has, I’m afraid, possibly done more harm than good,’ Alec said, a smile gilding his words. ‘Your cousin here has been suffering an irrational onslaught enough to drive the sanest person out of her mind. I think it could help if you were to write another letter.’