Servants ran out. Everyone was trying to comfort me. But I shook myself loose of them and ran into the house. I was tired of being a victim. I wasn’t going to take it any longer. I rushed upstairs, one flight then the next. And bumped into Whiffy Featherstonehaugh, running down.

“You!” I shouted, blocking his way. “I should have known when you didn’t jump in to try and save me on the boat. I can understand killing de Mauxville, but what have you got against Binky and me, eh? Come on, out with it!”

Whiffy swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple jumping up and down, eyes darting nervously. “I’m afraid I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve just been up on the roof, haven’t you? Come on, don’t deny it.”

“The roof? Good Lord, no. What would I have been doing on the roof? The other fellows snapped up the good fancy dress costumes. Lady Mountjoy said there was another trunk of costumes up in the attic, but I couldn’t find them.”

“Good excuse,” I said. “Quick thinking. You’re obviously brighter than you make out. You must be, to have lured de Mauxville to our house and killed him. But why pick us?—that’s what I want to know.”

He was looking at me as if I were a new and dangerous species of animal.

“Look here, Georgie. I don’t know what you’re on about. I—I didn’t kill de Mauxville. I had nothing to do with his death.”

“You mean he wasn’t blackmailing you?”

His jaw dropped. “How the devil did you know about that?”

I didn’t like to say “lucky guess.” It had suddenly come to me in a flash of inspiration as I noticed how tall and dark-haired and distinguished-looking he was. “They described you as visiting him at Claridge’s, and I saw your name in the book at Crockford’s, and de Mauxville had scribbled something about meeting ‘R’ on a pad.”

“Oh, cripes. Then the police also know.”

I was probably standing on a staircase with a killer. I wasn’t stupid enough to admit that the police knew nothing. “I’m sure they do,” I said. “Did you decide to kill him to end the blackmailing?”

“But I didn’t kill him.” He looked desperate now. “I can’t say I’m not glad he’s dead, but I swear I didn’t do it.”

“Was it gambling debts? Did you owe him money?”

“Not exactly.” He looked away. “He found out about my visits to a certain club.”

“Crockford’s?”

“Oh, good Lord, no. Crockford’s is acceptable. Half the Guards gamble.”

“Then what?”

He was looking around him like a trapped animal. “I’d rather not say.”

“A strip club, you mean?”