“Of which I am sure you were fully aware. Or maybe you were in on it too. We’ll be looking into that, but you do seem to have an alibi for the day in question, if your friend can be trusted.”

“May one ask how you came about this knowledge?” I asked.

“Pure luck. The handwriting expert we took the writing samples to was the same woman who had been asked to verify your father’s handwriting. Of course she was delighted to show us her copy of de Mauxville’s document. Maybe your brother thought that with his royal connections, he was above the law. But I can assure you that the law is the same for a duke or a pauper. We think he killed Gaston de Mauxville and if he did, then he will hang for it.”

“I trust you are still considering other leads, or have you decided that my brother makes a good sitting duck?” I tried to sound calm and in control although my mouth was so dry it was hard to form the words.

“If we find any other credible leads, we will pursue them,” he said calmly.

“I have been asking around and I understand that this de Mauxville was a known gambler, also a known blackmailer. Did it occur to you that someone he had been blackmailing had finally had enough?”

He nodded. “Yes, that did occur to us. We found a wad of five-pound notes in his suit pocket. And it did cross our minds that he might also have been blackmailing your brother.”

I had to laugh at this. “I’m sorry, Chief Inspector, but one person in the world you couldn’t blackmail is my brother. Hamish has led an impeccable life to the point of being utterly boring. No affairs, no debts, no bad habits at all. So find somebody with a more interesting lifestyle, and you’ll have your killer.”

“I admire your loyalty, Lady Georgiana. I assure you that we will be looking into all possibilities and your brother will get a fair trial.”

“Before you hang him,” I said bitterly and made a sweeping exit.

I left Scotland Yard in deep gloom. What could I possibly do to save Binky? I hardly knew my own way around London. We would have to rely on a solicitor who should have retired to Worthing or Bournemouth years ago.

As I passed the post office, I realized that I had completely forgotten about my new business enterprise. I hardly felt in the mood to clean houses at the moment, but I would need money if I was to go running around London in taxies on Binky’s behalf. So I went inside and was handed two letters. The first was from a Mrs. Baxter of Dullwich who wanted extra staff for her daughter’s twenty-first birthday party. Since I could only supply a staff of one, I thought that assignment highly unlikely.