A shadow passed over the keyhole, and the remembered voice said softly, “I’ve got the key. Do you promise to misbehave yourself if I let you in?”

The large door swung open on silent hinges and he stepped through into enemy territory.

“I can spare you a few minutes. I’m free until five. Clever of you to choose this time of day. It’s the quiet time between morning work and evening entertaining. Rosamund Wells—I prefer ‘Rosa.’ How do you do, John? Yes, I know who you are, John Redfyre. I’ve heard all about you from Earwig.”

“Indeed! Then I’m only surprised you let me in,” he said, and hoped his smile was not as ingratiating as his comment.

“After six weeks of living in this institution, I’d admit Vlad the Impaler for a little distraction! The key took some finding. It wasn’t where it should have been. Look, there’s a hook for it halfway down the wall, right beside the door. But I thought that if someone had locked it from the wrong side—that is, your graveyard side—they might just have chucked it back over the wall. Someone had. It was right over there, in the middle of the lawn.” Detecting a groan swiftly stifled, she added quickly, “Calm down! I picked it up in my hanky. Not that you’d get any prints from it—the surface is too rough. Are you going to tell me what on earth was going on over there on Friday night? I’ve heard rumours, some of them quite mad and rather frightening. I live here, you know. I’d like to know why the police are suddenly interested in Daddy’s back garden.”

Redfyre told her as much as he thought she ought to know, sparing her the details. But she seemed to be ahead of him in her speculations.

“Poor old chap! How grim to die like that—alone—and with no one knowing who you are! Who on earth would bother to kill an old tramp? Why here? And all that business with the key . . . It’s clear from the little you’re telling me that someone from here, the college side, accompanied him or dragged his body through and put it on a tombstone. Yes? But the killer didn’t come back the same way—he could have just locked up after himself and replaced the key. He must have made off through the churchyard and on to Trumpington Street. Didn’t want to be seen on college premises? Or just not the master’s lodge and garden part of the college?”