The library was next door to the billiard room, so it didn’t take long to verify that Sir Richard was both right and, in this context at least, honest. Of all the rooms in the hotel, the library was perhaps the most Victorian, with a carriage clock on the marble mantlepiece and a portrait of a severe man in black above that. Busts of Plato and Socrates, also in black, perched on shelves of leatherbound books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in a century. They found Lady Tabitha sitting in a low chair reading, while in the background an old-fashioned record player was playing something high, ethereal, and operatic, which Liza’s vaguely theatrical background told her was the “Bell Song” from Lakmé. Lady Tabitha glanced up as Liza and Hanna entered. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen my reprobate nephew?”

“Playing billiards,” said Liza. “With the colonel.”

“Ah.” Lady Tabitha nodded. “He would be. Silly boy. So, what brings you two down to speak to an old woman?”

That was an awkward one. Lady Tabitha and Sir Richard were low on the suspect list for most of the murders, so going full where-were-you-on-the-night-of-the-fourteenth on the strength of one conversation that may never have happened, reported by a vicar who used to be a professional crook, was probably a bit, as Lady Tabitha might have put it herself, gauche. A softly-softly approach was probably best. “Does he spend a lot of time with the colonel?” Liza asked.

“A fair amount. I wouldn’t say they were exactly kindred spirits, but Dicky does admire men of action and, well, there’s not a great deal for him to do with us snowed in. I believe they’ve played quite a lot of billiards and quite a lot of cards.”

“And has—?” Liza pulled up a chair and sat down, Hanna perching on the arm beside her. “I’m not really sure how to ask this. Have any of these card or billiard games been going on while …?”

“While somebody has been getting themselves murdered?” asked Lady Tabitha matter-of-factly.

Liza gave a somewhat embarrassed nod.

“Afraid not. While Dicky has been flushing rather a lot of money down the lavatory lately, he’s not quite gaming all hours of the day and night. He was in bed like a good little boy when poor Mr Ackroyd took the long drop, and when Belloc was shot we were taking tea in the drawing room. And of course, you know he was with us when we were attacked on the way to the tower last night. Or is it the colonel you’re trying to eliminate from your enquiries?”

In a way it was both, but it seemed sensible not to pretend otherwise. “Yeah.”

Lady Tabitha took a sip of coffee then eyed Liza over the rim of her spectacles. “And what do you intend to do with the killer, once you’ve caught him?”

“Or her,” Hanna added.