“I already told you that I hadn’t. I didn’t see a living soul. I let myself out of the front door. I walked around by the lake. I visited the horses, and it was about to rain so I came back inside. That’s the lot.”

“You came over here how long ago?”

“What is it—two weeks now?” Jack still seemed calm and unconcerned, as if he didn’t sense approaching danger.

“If I understand it correctly, you were brought over here as the heir to this estate,” Chief Inspector Fairbotham went on. “Rather a cushy job after being up at crack of dawn and riding around after sheep, wouldn’t you say?”

“Cushy, yes, but not one I would have chosen for myself,” Jack answered. “I’ve never wanted to be a bloody duke.”

There was an intake of breath from Edwina. Princess Charlotte fanned herself. The twins tittered.

“Watch your language, boy,” the inspector said. “You’re not in the outback now. We don’t swear among ladies over here.”

“Sorry,” Jack muttered. “Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“What I’m getting at is that you suddenly appear out of the blue, from the wilds of Australia, and claim you’re the heir to this estate. Funnily enough, the family accepts you as the rightful heir with no fuss at all. And then, lo and behold, a few days later the duke dies with your knife in his back. Now, I may not be the brightest man in the world, but I’d say that looks pretty suspicious to me, wouldn’t you?”

“You can say what you like, Inspector,” Jack replied, staring at the detective defiantly. “But I’m telling you that I didn’t kill the duke.”

“And yet, according to what I’ve been told, you and the duke had a run-in only last night. He insulted your mother, didn’t he? And you jumped up and challenged him to a fight.”

“Yes, I did,” Jack agreed.

“But that fight never took place?”

“No.” Jack shook his head. “When I’d cooled down, I saw that he was a poor specimen and I’d knock the stuffing out of him. Besides, he wouldn’t agree to fight with me. He got into another argument with someone else and forgot about our little tiff.”

“And what was that argument about?” Chief Inspector Fairbotham asked.

Edwina looked around the group. Nobody spoke. “I don’t remember,” she said. “Something inconsequential, I’m sure. Cedric was a confrontational sort of person who enjoyed making inflammatory statements just to get a rise out of people.”

“I will tell you what it was about,” said a voice from the far doorway, and there stood Irene, looking terribly pale but fully dressed, with a shawl around her shoulders.

“Irene, what on earth are you doing out of your bed?” Edwina went over to her. “Go back immediately. You nearly died, you silly girl.”