“Nothing farcical about murder, Your Grace,” Fairbotham said. “I’ll be in to speak with you in ten minutes.” And he walked off down the hall toward Cedric’s study.

“Should I help assemble the family, Your Grace?” I asked because Edwina looked stunned.

“No, no. Leave it to Huxstep. You may accompany me to the Long Gallery, Georgiana.” I offered her my arm and she took it. “You’re a good girl, my dear. I’m glad to have you here at this distressing time.”

We entered the Long Gallery. Edwina looked around as if reassuring herself that she really was in her own home. “How can this be, Georgiana?” she said. “How can it be possible that someone in this house poisoned Cedric? Surely not my own flesh and blood. I just pray that it is an outsider and not one of us.”

I seated her in the armchair by the fire and took a place myself on the sofa opposite. Soon we were joined by the others. Darcy gave me an inquiring look as he came to sit beside me. It felt almost as if the cast of characters was coming on stage for the next act of an improbable play. Nobody spoke as Chief Inspector Fairbotham made his entrance.

“Your Grace.” He gave her a little bow. “You asked me if I had discovered what poisoned your son. The answer is yes and no. The medical examiner has found traces of cyanide in his tissues.”

“Cyanide!” Edwina exclaimed. “Where would anyone have got their hands on cyanide in this house?”

“You’d be surprised,” Fairbotham said. “Cyanide is used for all sorts of things. Destroying wasp’s nests, for example. My men are searching the house and outbuildings right now, and I expect we’ll turn up something.”

“So the murderer would have to be someone who knew how to use cyanide,” Darcy said. “Dangerous substance, that. Could kill the would-be murderer if he breathed in the fumes.”

“Now we come to the interesting part,” Fairbotham said. “There was cyanide in his tissues, but the MO reckons there wasn’t enough to kill him.”

“Then what did kill him?” Edwina demanded.

“Tell me, Your Grace—did your son have a heart condition?”

“A heart condition? Absolutely not.”

“Does anyone in the family have a heart condition?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Edwina said.

“And you have been prescribed medicine for this?”

“I have. Some form of digitalis, I understand. From foxgloves.”

“Interesting.” Fairbotham nodded. “Because a significant amount of this chemical was found in his body.”

“Somebody used my digitalis to kill my son?”

“Again it probably wouldn’t have killed him.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Are you suggesting that someone administered cyanide and digitalis to the duke, but neither in sufficient amounts to kill him? Why? If someone wanted him dead, why not feed him enough of one of these substances?”