“Well, there are the dowager duchess’s two sisters,” I said. “Princess Charlotte is the widow of a Russian prince who was murdered in the Bolshevik uprising. She fled to Paris and then came here. The other sister is the widow of an Austrian count, and I’m not sure how long she has been living here.”

“Blimey,” he said. “You nobs don’t exactly marry the boy next door, do you?”

“Actually, their father was ambassador to Vienna so she did marry the boy next door,” I said.

“And these old women,” he went on. “What are they like? A bit dotty? I know there’s a lot of inbreeding among your sort.”

I could feel my hackles rising. “You know, Chief Inspector,” I said coldly, “you’d get a lot more cooperation from the occupants of this house if you didn’t start out by insulting them. You put our backs up. We clam up. Simple as that.”

“Good point,” he said. “I was just trying to lighten things up, you know.” He paused. “And between you and me, I’m a bit nervous myself. I’ve never been in a house like this before. Nor have I ever had dealings with the family of a duke.”

“Let me give you a hint then,” I said. “Noble families take their ancestry very seriously. It doesn’t do to poke fun at it.”

“Point taken,” he said. “I’ll be suitably reverential from now on. I may even tug my forelock and grovel, if it will help.”

I had to smile at this. “No groveling needed, but it does help if you give them due deference.”

“Right you are. So we’ve got the duchess, the lad from Australia, two widowed sisters and the hangers-on of the dead duke living here. Anyone else?”

“Lady Irene and her family,” I said.

“Oh, Lord, yes. The one who took the overdose of sleeping mixture last night. Tell me about her.”

“She is the dowager duchess’s only living child now,” I said. “She married a Russian count she met in Paris. They have three children—a girl of fifteen—the one I told you about, who damaged her spine; and twins, who are eleven, I believe.”

“Ah yes, I met the kiddies already. Too ghoulish for their own good, I’d say, but then, when you’re eleven you’ve no real concept of death, have you? They clearly think it’s a lark. So Irene and her family live here full-time, do they?”

I tried not to wince at the use of the word “kiddies.” “For the past two years.”

“And the Russian count?”

“Not a happy memory for the family. I gather he got through Lady Irene’s fortune and then ran off with a South American dancer.”

“So she had to come back home to Mum?”

“Exactly, and isn’t enjoying it too much being dependent on others.”