He beamed, as if I’d just given him a present. “That’s splendid, then. About ten all right for you? I’m afraid it’s only a little runabout. Couldn’t rustle up a Rolls.” (Which of course sounded like “wustle up a Wolls.”)

“Perfect. Thank you again.”

“Maybe we could stroll over to Eynsleigh together and relive old times.”

“As long as you don’t want me to run through any fountains with you.”

He laughed. “Oh, goodness me, no. How embarrassing.” His face grew serious. “I thought I should call on you because I realized you must be fwightfully upset about your brother. What an awful thing to have happened.”

“Yes, it is pretty shocking,” I said. “Binky’s innocent, of course, but it’s not going to be easy to prove. The police seem to be sure that he’s guilty.”

“The police are idiots,” he said. “They always get it wrong. Look, I don’t have to be back in the office for an hour or so. I could do what I promised and show you around London a bit, to cheer you up.”

“It’s very sweet of you, Tristram, but frankly I don’t think I’d take anything in today. I’ve just too much on my mind. Some happier time, maybe.”

“Quite understand. Beastly rotten luck, I say. But how about a cup of coffee? I’m sure there must be a café somewhere nearby and I’d certainly like a cup before I have to go back to work.”

“There are plenty along Knightsbridge, including a Lyons.”

“Oh, I don’t think we have to descend to a Lyons. Let’s go and see, shall we?—After you change your clothes.”

“Oh, yes.” I smiled, glancing down at my outfit. “Do come in and wait in the morning room. It’s the only room that’s suitable for guests at the moment.” I led him up the stairs to the first floor. “Take a seat. I won’t be long. Oh, and my sister-in-law is in residence, so don’t be surprised if a strange woman wants to know who you are.”

I changed quickly and came down to find Tristram sitting with such a strained expression on his face that I knew he had encountered Fig.

“Your sister-in-law is a bit of a stickler, isn’t she?” he muttered as we left the house. “She said she had no idea you’d been entertaining gentleman callers unchaperoned and that was no way to behave when they’d been so generous in letting you stay in the house. She positively glared at me as if I were Don Juan. I mean to say, do I look like Don Juan?”

“Oh, dear,” I said. “More trouble. I can’t wait to get away tomorrow and go to a place of peace, quiet, and jollity.”