There was a long silence. A wasp settled on the remains of Kerridge’s breakfast. At last, the superintendent said gruffly, ‘I’ll still be here tomorrow in case you can find out more. If one of them took whatever evidence of their misdeeds when they shot Mr Pomfret, they might have that evidence with them.’

‘I’ll see what I can find,’ said Harry.

Outside the inn, before she mounted her bicycle, Rose said, ‘We could search their rooms. There is a game of croquet scheduled for this afternoon. Everyone usually plays. I could get into Mrs Jerry’s and Mrs Stockton’s rooms and you could try Lord Alfred.’

‘Leave it,’ said Harry curtly. ‘You’ve already been in too much danger.’

But Rose was determined. Despite Daisy’s pleas to be careful, Rose waited until everyone was assembled on the lawn for the game of croquet and then excused herself, saying the sun had given her a headache.

She went straight to Mrs Jerry’s rooms. They were easy to find because, in the usual way, cards were on each door with the names of the occupants. It was an apartment like the one she shared with Daisy: two bedrooms off a sitting-room.

There was a desk by the window in the sitting-room. She went to it and began to search through the small amount of papers. They were mostly unpaid bills and letters.

And then she heard someone in the corridor outside. She hid behind a curtain and waited, her heart beating hard. The door opened and she heard Mrs Jerry’s voice, obviously speaking to her husband.

‘It’s a stupid game, the sun’s hot and I’m tired.’

‘Then go and lie down’ came her husband’s voice.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘What do you care?’

‘Don’t be so grumpy, popsy-wopsy. Come here.’

Perspiration began to form on Rose’s brow.

‘No, I won’t,’ said Mr Jerry. ‘It’s too buggering hot.’

‘Language!’

‘Coming from someone who swears like a fishwife, that’s rich!’

There was the sound of a slap, and then Mr Jerry said evenly, ‘Do that again and I’ll kill you, you fat, disgusting toad.’

‘You! Don’t make me laugh. I’m off to bed.’

Rose heard the bedroom door slam. She waited and waited. She could hear Mr Jerry moving about and then the creak of a chair as he sat down.

After fifteen minutes of agony, there came a rumbling snore from the bedroom.

Then to her horror, she heard Mr Jerry say, ‘You can come out now. She’s asleep.’

Blushing furiously, Rose emerged from behind the curtain.

‘I came in to borrow a book,’ she said in a low voice.

‘I saw your feet under the curtain. Let’s go for a walk,’ he said amiably.