“He’s just a casual acquaintance,” I said, half wanting to lie and watch Tristram’s face when I said that we were lovers. “We met at a hunt ball, apparently, and then at that wedding. That is the sum total of our acquaintanceship.” I didn’t mention the unsettling little scene in the Featherstonehaughs’ bedroom.

Relief flooded his boyish features. “That’s good, only I wouldn’t like to see a nice girl like you ending up with her heart broken, or worse.”

“Thank you, but I have no intention of anybody breaking my heart,” I said, my hand already itching to close that front door. “I must go now, Tristram. Please excuse me.”

“So may I see you again soon? Maybe I could take you to lunch somewhere? Nothing too fancy, I’m afraid, but I know some good cheap Italian places. You know, spaghetti Bolognese and a glass of red plonk for one and sixpence.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry about today, but I really must go. Now.” With that I turned and fled into the house. Once I’d closed the door, I stood for some time, leaning against the solid coldness of the oak while my heart regained its normal pace.

Chapter 13

Rannoch House
Friday, April 29, 1932

At least that little interlude had helped me get my thoughts into order. First I must find Binky, I decided. Before I summoned the police, I had to know for certain that he had no part in the killing of de Mauxville, and the most likely place to find him would be his club. He had been taking his meals there since coming to London and it was where he felt comfortable. I tried to think positively: maybe his disappearance had nothing whatever to do with the body. Perhaps he had finally decided that it would be easier to take a room at his club and avoid walking home after dinner and several brandies.

He might have mentioned it to me, I thought angrily. Typical Binky.

I dialed the telephone exchange and asked to be connected to Brooks, which had been my grandfather’s club, my father’s, and was now Binky’s.

“May I help you?” said a quavering old voice.

“Could you please tell me if Lord Rannoch is currently in residence?” I asked.

“I’m afraid not, madam.”

“You mean he’s not in residence or you can’t tell me whether he is or isn’t?”

“Precisely, madam.”

“I am Lady Georgiana Rannoch, the duke’s sister, and I wish to speak to him on a matter of great urgency. Now, could you tell me whether he is in residence?”

“I’m afraid not, my lady.” The voice was unperturbed and it was quite clear that the old man was prepared to die rather than disclose the whereabouts of a club member to one of the opposite sex. There was nothing for it but to go there myself.

I went upstairs and changed out of the maid’s uniform, trying not to look at the bathroom door as I went past. The fact that Binky’s clothes had gone presumably meant that he wasn’t intending to come back. And I could only conclude the worst—that he had seen the body and panicked. Now I just hoped he wasn’t somewhere spilling the beans.