‘Mrs Stockton and Lord Alfred really must be sticking hard to their stories about paying Freddy ten thousand pounds out of the goodness of their hearts,’ said Rose. ‘I only saw them talking together once and eavesdropped. It seems that Lady Glensheil is so determined to put an end to all this that when Kerridge got permission to search their homes in London, they could do nothing to stop it, because she has more influence in high places than either of them. But although they seemed furious at the intrusion, neither of them seemed particularly worried that the police would find anything.’

‘When I was growing up in the East End,’ mused Daisy, ‘there never was any privacy. And one day after the show at Butler’s, this stage-door Johnny gave me a box of chocolates. I knew if my brothers and sisters saw that, I’d never get any. So I hid it up the chimney. Wouldn’t you know it? Next day was a cold snap and Ma lit a fire and the whole box tumbled down into the flames.’

Rose stared at her. ‘Daisy, I wonder if the police searched up the chimneys?’

‘Let’s go and put it to Kerridge.’

‘No, wait a bit.’ Rose was desperate to prove to Harry that she was better at detecting than anyone else. ‘The police would announce they were searching the rooms again. One of the servants would see them searching up the chimneys and the news would go around like wildfire. I know, at dinner tonight I’ll suddenly say I feel faint. You help me out of the room.’

‘I’ll help you make up to look pale,’ said Daisy eagerly.

‘Not white lead. I do not know why women will still use that cosmetic. So many of them die of lead poisoning.’

Harry fretted over the soup at dinner. He kept stealing glances at Rose. She was so very white and there were blue shadows under her eyes.

Then he heard Rose mutter an excuse and rise from the table. She left the room, supported by Daisy. Harry, being neither relative nor husband, had to remain where he was and resist the impulse to run out of the dining-room to find out what was wrong with her.

‘Now,’ whispered Rose as they made their way up the stairs. ‘Mrs Stockton’s room first.’

There was no electricity laid on at Farthings, nor gaslight, and so they had taken one of the bed candles from the hall table to enable them to read the names on the cards on each door.

‘Here we are,’ said Rose at last. ‘Let’s hope her maid is in the servants’ hall.’

Rose had a stab of worry that the door might prove to be locked, particularly after all the petty thefts, but to her relief it opened. Oil lamps were burning in the little sitting-room, so she blew out the candle.