And she doesn’t have to go through an ugly divorce case, either, I thought but didn’t say out loud. If only there was a sensible policeman I could share this knowledge with. Or someone like Granddad or Darcy, who would know whom to tell. I found myself wondering if Lady Groper had orchestrated the whole thing perfectly—the alibi of being in the hills, far enough away from Nice, of not finding out about the murder until she read the morning papers. Or—an even more chilling thought struck me—the coincidence of their son, Bobby, suddenly turning up, but not wanting to be seen. Was it possible that Lady G and Bobby had planned this between them? I had seen from her face that he was the apple of his mother’s eye. Was it plausible that he had not made contact with her and she had really not known he was here? If the police had decided that I was the guilty party, then I’d have to seek out Bobby for myself and see if I could get to the truth.

“She could lead a delightful life if she chooses,” Chanel continued. “But I do not think she will do so. She will certainly not buy herself a decent wardrobe. She will hunt and fish and live in the boring English countryside.” And she gave that delightful laugh.

“I know,” Mummy said suddenly. “Let’s have a party. Things have been all too gloomy around here and we haven’t had a party in ages.”

“Is that wise, with Georgiana under suspicion of murder?” Vera asked.

“Darling, that’s the very best time to do it. Georgie needs cheering up, don’t you, darling?” She looked back at me, trailing behind them up the driveway under the eyes of the watching policemen. “And we’ll show these horrid little men that they’ve got it wrong and they can’t intimidate us.”

“When do you propose holding this party?” Vera asked.

“Why not tonight? I’ll get on the telephone—invite a few people and they’ll spread the word.”

“Tonight, Claire!” Vera complained. “We need food and drink and decorations.”

“Simple, darling. I’ll telephone my favorite restaurant for their lovely hors d’oeuvres platters, cold lobster, that kind of thing, and I think you’ll find that my wine cellar is well stocked. So we just need ice and lemons and a few fun things like paper lanterns—the shops are full of fun stuff ready for carnival. I’ll pop into town. No problem.”

“Let me go,” I said.

They turned to look at me.

“I want to show them that I’m not their prisoner.” Another thought had also come to me. I wanted to speak to the crew of that yacht and find out exactly what happened yesterday afternoon and how Sir Toby came to be back at his villa.