They found Colonel Coleman, Ruby, and Reverend Lincoln outside Professor Worth’s bedroom. Ruby and the colonel had each other at gunpoint, while the reverend was standing back, his hands raised, trying to look mollifying.

“Perhaps,” the reverend was saying, “you could stand back, and I could open the door.”

Ruby and the colonel both instinctively turned their guns on the reverend before realising their basic tactical miscalculation and turning them back on each other. Then, seeing the approach of the newcomers, they moved them rapidly to cover Sir Richard and the Blaines.

“Could we perhaps,” Hanna suggested, “all put our weapons down? Whoever has just shot whomever, we can be pretty sure that neither of them is anybody here right now.”

Ruby eyed her darkly. “How exactly can we be sure of that?”

“Because we’re all outside the room, not inside it? And because it would be a pretty bold move to come up to the professor’s room, shoot him, nip away for two minutes, then come back with your gun still smoking and pretend you’ve just arrived.”

There was no change in Ruby’s expression, and she kept her weapon unerringly trained on the colonel while staring at Hanna. “And you don’t think that the man behind all this might be exactly that bold?”

Much as Liza hated to admit it, it was a reasonable point. Before anybody could elaborate, the door opened and a sheepish Professor Worth poked his head out. “Oh, I say.” He sounded deeply apologetic. “Have I—have I caused a lot of bother?”

Three guns swivelled to point at the professor.

“A certain amount of bother, yes,” said Reverend Lincoln.

The door swung open and Professor Worth, pistol still hanging limply from his hand, stood aside to let the assembled crowd in. He was visibly trembling, so much so that he collapsed onto a nearby chair almost immediately. A draught was blowing through from a shattered window, and it didn’t take Colonel Coleman very long to put two and two together and work out what had happened. “Saw something outside, did you?” he asked.

Professor Worth nodded as if the slight movement of his head was all he had strength for. “Yes. Something was moving and—well, I’m …I’m sure it was just a shadow or a branch or something, and, well, there’s climbing ivy up to the window, and what with everything that’s gone on I suppose I …” He presented the gun, his hand still shaking so much it seemed he could barely lift it. “I suppose I panicked.”

“And what exactly did you see?” asked Liza, trying not to get too invested in the possibility of a mysterious, unaccounted-for suspect not already in the room.