“How frightfully unchivalrous of him—leaving you to face the music. You don’t think this is his doing, then?”

I weighed it in my mind. “I really don’t think so,” I said at last. “I simply can’t picture Binky drowning someone in a bathtub. He’s too clumsy, for one thing. He’d have slipped on the soap or something. And if he had made up his mind to do away with de Mauxville, he would hardly have left him lying in our own bathtub, would he?”

“It’s certainly not the brightest thing to have done,” she said, “but your brother was never noted for his high intellect, was he?”

“Even Binky couldn’t be that stupid, surely.” I heard the note of uncertainty creep into my voice. “Anyway, I suspect he’s on a train heading north at the moment. I’m waiting for him to arrive home in Scotland, so that I can telephone him and find out the truth. But in the meantime, what should I do? We can’t just leave de Mauxville lying there.”

Belinda shrugged. “If you don’t want to try burying him in the back garden, which I personally think is an excellent idea, you’ll simply have to call the police.”

“I suppose so,” I agreed. “After all, why should I be afraid? I am innocent. I have nothing to hide—”

“Apart from the small fact that you dress up as a maid and go to scrub other people’s lavatories,” Belinda reminded me.

“Well, apart from that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m here at your side,” Belinda said. “It would take a formidable policeman to get the better of the two of us.”

I managed a weak smile. “All right. I’ll do it.”

I went downstairs to the telephone, then we waited, perched side by side on the stairs, staring at the front door, listening to a clock ticking somewhere in the emptiness of the house.

“Who do you think could have done it?” Belinda asked at last. “What was he doing here in the first place?”

“I suppose he must have come to see Binky.”

“But if Binky didn’t kill him, who did?”

I shrugged. “Someone else. A stranger, I suppose.”

She shook her head. “You want the police to believe that a complete stranger broke into your house while you were out and drowned somebody in your bathtub? That would take a great deal of nerve and planning, Georgiana, as well as a great deal of luck.”

“I know. It hardly seems feasible, does it? I mean, who could possibly know that de Mauxville was coming here? Hardly anybody even knew we were in London. And surely de Mauxville can’t have many acquaintances here.”

She stared thoughtfully at the chandelier. “This de Mauxville,” she said, “is he one of us, or strictly NOCD?” (Which, in case you don’t know, is shorthand for “not our class, dear.”)