‘Miss Duval was shot. Did she say anything about expecting a visitor?’

‘Miss Duval did not. But I had the feeling she was going to entertain someone she did not want us to see.’

‘Have you any idea who that person might be?’

‘I thought it might be a certain royal personage.’

‘Keep that thought to yourself,’ snapped Kerridge. Dear God! Was he going to have to interview the king?

‘How long have you been in the employ of Miss Duval?’

‘Ever since madam came to London. She got rid of her French staff. She did not trust them and suspected one of them of sending snippets about her to the newspapers.’

‘So when did she come to London?’

‘Only a month ago,’ said Harry.

‘And how did she hire the staff?’

‘Madam hired the others through an agency. She had advertised for a lady’s maid in The Times before leaving Paris. I applied for the post.’

‘Your previous employer?’

‘Lady Burridge.’

‘And why did you leave?’

‘Lady Burridge died.’

‘Now, we are looking for threatening letters sent to Miss Duval. Do you know where she kept them?’

‘Certainly. She kept them in a little bureau in the boudoir upstairs.’

‘Show us.’

Harry and Kerridge followed the lady’s maid’s erect figure up the stairs. ‘Why did you choose to work for a member of the demi-monde?’ asked Kerridge.

She turned on the landing. ‘Miss Duval paid good wages and was kind. I shall miss her.’

She led the way into a pretty boudoir and went straight to the bureau. ‘Oh, that one,’ said Kerridge gloomily. ‘That’s already been searched.’

‘There are no signs of a frantic search,’ said Harry. ‘There were no drawers pulled out and left open. Neither was the outer door forced. It looks as if Miss Duval knew her visitor, may even have confided in this visitor and shown him the letters. What about her jewels? And why was she clad only in her nightgown and dressing gown? It looks as if she was expecting a lover.’

‘Madam fretted at the restriction of stays. She went around clad only in her undress most mornings. I tried to persuade her to wear something more seemly, but she laughed at me and called me a fuddy-duddy.’ Thomson sat down as if her legs had suddenly given way. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

‘Jewels!’ said Harry sharply. ‘Has anything been taken?’

Thomson went to a large jewel box. ‘The key is in the lock,’ she said. ‘That’s odd. It is always kept locked. I have one key and madam had the other.’

She threw open the lid. Inside were a series of trays with rings and earrings. She lifted them out. In the well of the box were piles of necklaces. ‘Madam kept her diamonds at the bank,’ said Thomson. ‘But there is a sapphire necklace, a ruby necklace and a necklace of black pearls missing.’

‘You are sure?’ asked Kerridge.

‘I check the inventory every evening. Also I made a daily inventory of the lace box.’ Lace was in vogue for trimmings and some of it was priceless.