The chief inspector chuckled. “What with old biddies listening in at the exchange, there is no such thing as a confidential telephone call,” he said. “But I thank you for the offer of your son’s study. It has a nice, big desk we’ll find useful.” He started to leave then turned back again. “And one more thing. My men will want something to eat about now. They’ll obviously get things done faster if they don’t have to go down to the local pub. Might there be a chance your cook can find enough to feed them with your servants?”

“The sooner you ascertain that my cook has been released from your man’s questioning, the sooner we can all eat,” Edwina said. “I expect there will be enough food for your men—for you too, Chief Inspector. We do not stint ourselves here at Kingsdowne.” I noticed she had put him firmly in the same category as household staff. There was no indication that he should eat with us. He would have to rise to chief constable before that might happen.

“Very good of you, Your Grace,” he muttered. “I’ll go and find my sergeant right away.”

And off he stomped. As soon as he was out of earshot, Edwina stood up and came over to me.

“What were you saying to the inspector, Georgiana?” she demanded. “If you have your suspicions, I would request that you share them with the rest of us.”

“No suspicions, Your Grace,” I said. “I was suggesting that the inspector put renewed efforts to tracing the missing letter. If your son thought it important enough that he wanted to post it personally, then I feel that is the key to why he was killed.”

“I’m afraid we must presume that it was to our solicitor, instructing him to set up this ridiculous adoption process for his valet—absolutely absurd, as I’m sure the solicitor will tell him. I can’t think what other matter would have been so pressing as to make him walk across the grounds in the rain. Cedric never was one for healthy outdoor activities.” She stood staring out of the window. Then she sighed. “Well, I see no reason why we should not go in to luncheon at the usual hour, although heaven knows what Cook will have been able to prepare with policemen tramping all over the place. I rather fear we’ll have to settle for something rather plain. Ring for Huxstep and tell him we wish to eat now, John.”

As she went across to the bell, Jack also had risen to his feet. “How can you talk calmly of eating when your son is dead and everyone thinks I stabbed him?” he shouted, his voice echoing down the Long Gallery.