Harry and Becket, with Becket driving, headed towards Farthings. Two ladies’ bicycles were strapped on the back of their car. ‘Don’t you think, sir, that the earl and countess will consider a bicycle too expensive a present to give an unmarried young lady?’

‘I bought one for Daisy as well.’

‘Still . . .’

‘Lady Rose did tell me on the telephone that she had changed her mind about motor cars but said that her father would not even buy her a bicycle. Stop worrying about it, man. I shall discuss the matter with her, and if she considers the present out of order, she can leave it behind.’

‘We’ll need to teach them to ride the things,’ said Becket.

‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

Becket suddenly thought of being able to put his arm around Daisy’s waist as he helped her learn how to ride, and smiled in the sunshine.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Here we are! here we are!! here we are again!!!

There’s Pat and Mac and Tommy and Jack and Joe.

When there’s trouble brewing,

When there’s something doing,

Are we downhearted?

No! let ’em all come!

Charles Knight

Farthings was a pleasant Elizabethan manor-house. A beautiful old wisteria covered most of the front, its delicate purple blossoms moving gently in the lightest of breezes.

As they went through the usual arrival ritual of being shown to their quarters, Daisy fretted about that car which had been behind them all the way. Whoever was driving it wasn’t a guest because it had driven on past the gates. The driver was wearing goggles and a muffler up round his face and he had a cap pulled low down over his forehead.

In her new status as companion, she would no longer eat with the servants and so would have no chance to tell Becket of her fears.

They had been given two bedrooms and a little sitting-room. Rose stood by the window, watching the other arrivals.

‘Good heavens, Daisy. There’s Tristram Baker-Willis, Freddy’s friend. And here comes Mrs Jerry and her husband. You know, I’ve just thought of something. With Freddy’s flat being searched when he was shot, one assumed that the murderer had taken away any incriminating papers. But what if Freddy did not keep any evidence he was using to blackmail in his flat, but had it somewhere else? I must ask the captain. Or, wait a bit, what if the murderer found the evidence, took away his own stuff along with the others and then decided to do a bit of blackmailing himself?’

‘There’s the dressing gong,’ said Daisy.

‘The arrivals are going to have to look sharp. Ring the bell for Turner.’