My thoughts went instantly to Major Beauchamp-Chough. The prince’s private secretary. A military man. A trained killer. Would he have been willing to do what it took to make sure the prince was not involved in scandal and the wedding took place? And yet he had been away all evening, at a regimental dinner, arriving home around the same time as us. And surely plenty of fellow officers could verify his attendance. And he had seemed genuinely shocked to discover the body, and recognize who it was.

“Someone will have to tell Prince George,” I said. “But please don’t look at me. That’s something I absolutely shouldn’t undertake. And couldn’t.”

“I agree. If Sir Jeremy wants to play puppet master and pull the strings, I’ll suggest he is the one to face the prince.”

“Of course, he could have a word with Major Beauchamp-Chough first,” I said. “He’s the prince’s private secretary, after all. He’d probably know many of the prince’s dark secrets. He’d certainly have known if Bobo Carrington had told the prince she was expecting his child.”

“The major was with us this morning. Why did he not mention any of this if he was privy to the prince’s secrets? He seems like an upright sort of bloke. Straight as a die. He wouldn’t have approved of such goings-on.”

“Perhaps he was hoping it would never come out. Perhaps he thought Miss Carrington’s death was a suicide, an overdose of drugs.” I looked up. “That is our biggest weapon in guarding the palace, you know. That she was a drug addict. People who take drugs have to obtain them from somewhere. This murder could have nothing at all to do with her liaison with the prince, or with her illegitimate child. She might have fallen foul of a drug kingpin and they are known to mete out their brand of justice swiftly and ruthlessly, aren’t they?”

“That’s definitely another angle we’ll follow up on,” he said. “I have my contacts in the underworld. But I’d still like to start off with her closest friends. They would know if she was scared, worried, and also what she did with the baby.”

Another horrid thought crossed my mind. “I suppose you should also check whether any newborn babies have been found abandoned or dead in the last three months,” I said. “She may have gone away to have it and then not been able to face the future and killed it. Dumped it in a river. In which case one might even have thought that she took her own life in remorse. You’re sure about the bruises on her face? They couldn’t have been formed by falling onto the cobbles?”