“He’d have had someone else kill her. Sir Toby wouldn’t do his own dirty work. Presumably the police have established her movements on the evening she was killed—whether she had any visitors at her flat, where she may have gone in a taxicab . . .”

“There is a night doorman at her block of flats. I haven’t questioned him but I expect the police have. It’s hard to ask the questions if we can’t tell anyone it’s part of a murder investigation,” I said. “They just think we’re being nosy.”

“I realize that.” He looked up. “Oh damn. We’ve already reached Kensington Palace and I’ve wasted the whole time with you on talking.”

“Where can I find you?” I asked as the taxicab driver came around to open the door.

“I know where to find you now,” he said. “I’m staying here and there, but I’ll bring you a telephone number.” He clambered out after me. “And if there is an emergency before I see you again, telephone Sir Jeremy. Do you have his number?”

I nodded.

“Good. He can track me down.”

“Good night, then.” I stood there looking at him, thinking how much I loved him and wanted him.

“Remember, I’ll be keeping an eye on you, so no stupid heroics about tackling drug dealers, all right?”

“I promise. No drug dealers.”

“Good night,” he said. Then he took me into his arms and kissed me. I reacted as a band of light fell onto us. I looked up. Irmtraut was standing at her window, holding back the curtain and staring down at us.

Chapter 25

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 8

Rushing around, but with a smile on my face.

Miraculously Queenie had stayed up to undress me.

“Your brassiere is undone at the back,” she commented. “You’ve been having a bit of the old how’s yer father.”

“Maids are not supposed to comment on their mistress’s behavior,” I said primly. “Your job is to help me off with my clothes.”

She chuckled. “Looks like someone’s already tried to do that for you.”

I slept much better that night, knowing that Darcy was nearby and all was right again—at least for us. Not for Bobo Carrington.