“What if …?” Professor Worth took a half-step forward, looked at the body, and then took a full step back. “What if we all held very still until we were absolutely certain that they’ve gone away?”

“But we’ve got a chance to catch the bounder,” insisted Sir Richard. “Come on, old boy, faint heart never won fair lady and all that.”

The professor did not look convinced. “I’m not trying to win a fair lady, or to catch a bounder. I’m trying to stay as far away as possible from a man with a gun.”

“I’d listen to the man, dear.” Lady Tabitha’s tone wasn’t quite chiding, but it was definitely auntly. “I know you like your adventures, but this is an unnecessary risk.”

“But life’s nothing without adventure,” protested Sir Richard. “And I’ve always come through okay so far.”

“So had he,” Hanna pointed out, nodding at Belloc’s body. “It’s not exciting and it’s not cool, but the professor is right: we should all be trying to avoid catching the killer in the act.”

Everybody except Sir Richard was just agreeing with this sensible line of reasoning when a thought struck Liza that she immediately wished hadn’t struck her. “What if they’re in the boathouse?”

Hanna jumped away from the wall like it was electrified, sprawling on the floor and banging her arm on a frozen root. “Ow, fuck. Thanks, couldn’t you have thought of that before I pressed my spine against a shooting range?”

Even as she helped her wife to her feet, Liza kept her eyes trained on the boathouse. It had two doors, one leading onto the loch, and another side door not far from where Belloc’s body was lying.

“No.” Hanna was doing her resolute voice.

“But …” The door was definitely unlocked, Liza was sure of that. The padlock was open.

“No. I am not letting my wife walk into a barn and get a bullet in the face. Let somebody else check if they want to.”

Aunt Tabitha gave Hanna a disappointed look. “Isn’t that a little sexist, dear?”

“I said somebody else. Not one of the men.”

“Well, I’m not volunteering,” Aunt Tabitha told her. “So I suggest we either resign ourselves to reinforcing patriarchal norms or you let the lady go.”

Still nursing her elbow, Hanna scowled. “You know what, I’m willing to take the hit. If pandering to the occasional gender stereotype means that nobody I care about walks—hey! Come back here!”

Curiosity had got the better of Liza. She had been inching towards the boathouse and was now within reach of the door. Keeping herself flat to the wall in the hope that any bullets that came her way would be expecting her to approach from a more traditional angle, she reached out one hand from as far away as she could manage and pushed the door open.