“Let’s do both!” Marina clapped her hands like a small child. “Or rather all three.”

“But again my friend says that ladies don’t usually go to nightclubs without an escort.”

“The major can be our escort.” Marina’s eyes sparkled. “What do you say, Major? Your chance to live the glamorous life too, for one evening, and to keep us out of trouble.”

“If that’s what you’d like, Your Royal Highness,” he said. “However, it should not be somewhere that could create a negative impression in the newspapers. Somewhere beyond reproach. I’ll do a bit of fishing today.”

“Ah. You go back to the pond to do fishing, Major.” Irmtraut nodded with satisfaction. “I hope you get a good catch.”

As I left the room I realized I had been laughing. It had been good to break the horrid tension, if only for a moment. And I had a busy day ahead of me with little time to think. That was good too.

“He can take care of himself,” I told myself firmly as I laced up my walking shoes. “He will only have to get in touch with Sir Jeremy and someone will set DCI Pelham straight.” But I still worried. You can’t stop loving a person overnight.

Chapter 21

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7

OUT AND ABOUT

Darcy has been arrested. Serves him right. No, doesn’t serve him right. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. I know he didn’t have anything to do with Bobo’s death . . . don’t I?

My first task for the morning was to visit Belinda. We needed her tonight if we were to visit Crockford’s. And I also wanted to reassure myself that she was all right. I went straight to her mews and hammered on the door, loudly enough to wake the dead. A window opened opposite and an indignant woman looked out, but there was no sign of life from Belinda’s place. The feeling of dread rose inside me again. I fished in my pocket and produced her key.

“Belinda?” I called as I shut the door behind me. The house had a cold, abandoned feeling to it. “Belinda, it’s me, Georgie.”

I went cautiously up the stairs, not knowing what I might find. On other occasions I would have been scared of finding a strange man asleep in her bed. Today I would have welcomed it. Her bedroom door was closed. I pushed it open, inch by inch. Her bed was made. Nobody in the room. Belinda was not at home. But her wardrobe was open and several hangers had nothing on them. Her slippers were not beside the bed. Also the robe with the feather trim was not hanging behind the door. What’s more, her A to Z railway timetable was on the bedside table.