I went to perch on the arm of Darcy’s sofa. I noticed that the Starlings had now joined the group, standing nervously beside the fire.

“So was it awful?” Adrian asked me. “Do you think that brute of a policeman will try to get one of us to confess?”

“Only if he thinks you did it,” I replied.

Adrian shuddered. “Don’t. It’s too terrifying to think about. Simon and Julian and I were absolutely shattered—still are, aren’t we?” He looked at them for affirmation. “And to think that if only we’d plucked up the courage to go and talk to Ceddy this morning, we could have walked down to the theater site with him and he would still be with us now.”

I wondered whether they had been told about the letter Cedric had insisted on posting himself. If it really was to his solicitor stating that he wanted to adopt Marcel, then they had as good a motive as any of the family to prevent that letter from being mailed. Was that the motive? I wondered, or was Cedric merely having a private laugh at their expense and not serious about wanting to adopt his valet? Edwina walked across to the coffeepot, poured herself a cup then exclaimed, “This coffee is cold.” She stalked across to the bell by the fireplace and gave it a bad-tempered jerk. Eventually Huxstep appeared.

“Huxstep. There is cold coffee in this pot,” she said angrily. “I see no reason to let standards slip because we have a few policemen in the house. Have it replaced immediately.”

“Your Grace, I must apologize,” he said, “but the servants have been told they are to wait in the servants’ hall until each of them has given the police a statement. I thought Your Grace knew this.”

“I’m sorry. I did not know that the chief inspector now thinks he can order my servants around without my permission. I have already spoken to him once, but I will be next in line and let him know that he cannot disrupt the running of this house. Better still, would you please get me the lord lieutenant on the telephone right away? It’s time someone more competent took over this case.”

It was like being in a doctor’s office, waiting for the next patient to be called in. We sat in near silence while Her Grace was summoned to the telephone then came back in a worse temper than before. “The lord lieutenant is off on his yacht in Monte Carlo,” she snapped. “How inconsiderate of him to have deserted his post like this. I’m afraid we’ll have to have Mr. O’Mara put out his feelers, as he calls them, to Scotland Yard after all.”