“There you go, Rosa, my love! That’s a very decent offer! But just be sure not to annoy young Gisbourne. He won’t think much of seeing a chap with the inspector’s dashing good looks cutting in on his partner for the evening.” The master turned to Redfyre and confided, “Gisbourne is the son of one of our most generous benefactors, you understand.”

Redfyre shook his head in unaffected puzzlement. “Gisbourne? Should I know the name?”

“He’s not a Cambridge man, though when he sets up shop—and you may take me literally!—in town next year, he will be! He’s the son and heir of Gisbourne the Family Grocer. Young Digby is going to be a very wealthy man. In these straightened times the college has been lucky indeed to have him.”

“Oh, it’s no penance, really, spending an evening with Digby,” Rosa hurried to say. “He may not be much of a dancer, but he’s very lively and entertaining. He’s easy and a good talker.”

“He’ll need those virtues in the career he’s chosen for himself,” her father commented. “He’s one of those chaps who know from an early age what they want to do with their lives. Gisbourne has his eye set on the highest office in the land. He fully intends to be prime minister one day. Makes no secret of his ambition! Now, I ask myself—is that honesty, disarming in its naïveté? Or honesty, alarming in its directness? He’s starting off by oiling up to the local dignitaries and party leaders here in the county with a view to being appointed Tory candidate for Cambridgeshire in the next elections in two years’ time. A much-sought-after position, apparently. A man to keep an eye on.”

Did Redfyre imagine the amused look that slid between father and daughter at the comment?

“But that’s enough of college gossip! Now, tell me about the murder that occurred on my back lawn last Friday night, and how we may help you shake out a few clues. My gardener is due to give the grass a short back and sides tomorrow morning, but I can hold him back if you wish.”

Realising that the interest was genuine, Redfyre decided to break his rule of never involving a nonprofessional in his enquiries wherever possible and invited father and daughter to accompany him on a reconstruction of the crime as it might have occurred. A sweep of the lawn and a thorough inspection of the flower beds producing nothing of interest, they unlocked the gate and went through into the churchyard, taking in the bier that had held the body and spending a minute of silent contemplation by its side.