“I see. So would it surprise you to know that a note was found in that gentleman’s hotel room inviting him to speak with you on a matter of great urgency at eleven o’clock yesterday at your London address?”

“Not only would it surprise me but I can tell you that I wrote no such note,” Binky said in his best ducal tones. Again our great-grandmother would have been proud.

“I happen to have the note here.” The inspector opened a folder and pushed a sheet of paper in front of us. “This was delivered by hand to Claridge’s yesterday morning and taken up to Monsieur” (he pronounced it “Mon-sewer”) “de Mauxville’s room.”

Binky and I looked at it.

“Certainly a forgery,” Binky said.

“And how can you tell that, sir?”

“For one thing, I only write on paper embossed with my crest. This is cheap stuff that one would buy in Woolworths.”

“And for another,” I said, “it’s signed ‘Hamish, Duke of Rannoch.’ My brother signs letters just plain ‘Rannoch’ to social equals, and if he were to include his full title, it would be ‘Duke of Glen Garry and Rannoch.’ ”

“And what’s more, it’s not my handwriting,” Binky said. “Close, I’ll agree. Someone has tried to imitate my style, but I cross my ts differently.”

“So you are maintaining that this note was not sent by you.”

“Precisely.”

“So what happened when the gentleman showed up on your front doorstep?”

“I have no idea. I wasn’t home. Let me see. Where was I?”

“You were planning to go home to Scotland, Binky,” I reminded him.

“That’s right. I had packed my bags ready to leave when I received a telephone call asking me to come to my club on a matter of urgency. Naturally I went straight away and found that no such message had been sent. I chewed the fat with a couple of friends and then came back to Rannoch House in time to pick up my bag from the front hall and take a taxi to the station.” It did rather sound as if he were rattling off his lines, the way one does in a school play.

“How very convenient, sir.”

“It’s ‘Your Grace.’ ”

“As you say, sir.” He looked from my brother to me. “You know what I think? I think the two of you are in this together. Why would a duke and his sister come to London alone, leaving all their servants behind, if it was not for something underhanded?”

“I’ve already told you that I left my maid behind and hadn’t had enough time to hire a new one,” I said, “and my brother was only down on business for a couple of days. He took his meals at his club.”

“But who dressed him?” The inspector was smirking now. “Don’t you upper-class folks all need valets to help you dress?”