From where the poignard had fallen, Liza estimated that the killer had probably stood to Lady Tabitha’s right and struck down, which probably made them right-handed—not exactly narrowing things down since as far as she could tell nobody in the building was left-handed—and since there didn’t seem to be much sign of a struggle it was probably somebody she didn’t see as a threat. But then, since Lady Tabitha had been from the kind of unflappable aristocratic stock that was bred not to react to any outside stimulus with more than a raised eyebrow and a polite tutting, that was basically everybody.

“My God, Tabitha.” That was Sir Richard, appearing at the door with the rest of his party, his hands pressed over his mouth and his eyes wide. “I knew it. I knew we were being ten-green-bottles-ed. I should have kept a closer eye on the old girl.”

Behind him, the colonel was fixing Mr Burgh with a beady glare. “Now look here, old boy, this clinches it as far as I’m concerned. Some bounder is running around this place picking us off one at a time like lobsters in a tank, and I’m damned if I’m going to sit around and—”

“Please tell me,” said Hanna, “that you are not asking for a gun again?”

Colonel Coleman folded his arms. “I most certainly am. From what we’ve been told we’ve got two days. Well, give me two days with a gun in my hand and a wall at my back, and I’ll be getting out of this mess alive, you mark my words.”

“And what if you’re the killer?” asked Liza.

With a calculating blink, Professor Worth slid his glasses back up his nose. “Well, logically, we already know the killer has accessed the firearms cabinet at least once, and so he—or she—could be reasonably expected to do it again. So in a way, wanting a gun could be seen as evidence of the colonel’s innocence.”

“It’s evidence of his imbalance,” insisted Hanna. “When has putting a firearm into a situation ever made it less dangerous?”

The look in Colonel Coleman’s eyes grew dark. “When the other fellow’s already got one.”

“May I remind everybody”—Reverend Lincoln stood firmly between the bickering crowd in the doorway and Lady Tabitha’s body—”that a woman is dead. Show some respect.”