It was always with regret that I left my grandfather’s house. I wished he could play a bigger part in my life but there was such a huge social gulf between us. I hadn’t even known he existed until I grew up. He had been kept away from me. I thought about how stupid the rules of society were as I took the train back to London.

Darcy was waiting for me at the appointed time.

“So, did your grandfather solve the case for us?” he asked as he helped me into the little sports car.

“He didn’t want to get involved,” I said. “He instructed me to leave it to the police.”

“Very sensible.”

“What about you? Any luck at Scotland Yard?”

“I came up empty too,” he said. “The chap I was hoping to see is off in Yorkshire on a case, and I was told firmly that Scotland Yard will never intervene unless the local police have requested it.”

“I was going to say a wasted day,” I said, looking out of the motorcar window as we drove over Westminster Bridge, “but at least I saw my grandfather and I’m spending some time alone with you.”

“Should we not go back to Kingsdowne but drive off together to a little hotel on the coast? Or take the boat to Paris?” he asked, his eyes teasing me.

“Both sound divine, but we are in the middle of a murder investigation. Edwina is expecting us back and we should be there.”

“That famous Rannoch sense of duty again.” He laughed. “But you’re right. I feel I owe an obligation to Jack. I did bring the poor blighter here, and he was enough a fish out of water before this happened.”

“I feel the same,” I said.

“Let’s hope the cook has been left in peace by the police and a splendid dinner awaits us,” Darcy said. “I must say the food there is rather good, don’t you think?”

“Heavenly.”

A watery sun sank low in the sky as we left the city behind. Smoke curled up from cottages hidden among the trees, and we passed a ploughman leading a giant horse home for the night. The countryside seemed peaceful and serene. It was hard to think that murders happened in such a setting. I tried to follow Granddad’s advice and push the whole thing from my mind.

“I wonder if the dotty aunt will want another séance tonight,” Darcy said. “I must say that my experience of a Ouija board has always been that it spells out nonsense.”

“But Princess Charlotte does seem to have some kind of psychic ability. She has had interesting dreams,” I said. “Before Jack arrived, she dreamed about a cuckoo coming to the rooftop. That was significant, don’t you think?”

I looked up as Darcy pulled the car close into the hedge. “Why are we stopping?”