‘She changed her name to Dolores Duval,’ said Harry. ‘She was murdered in London.’

The family looked at him in shock. Then the grandfather’s brows lowered and he said, ‘Get out of here. Dirty English coming around my home, trying to accuse me of murder.’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘Get out or I’ll set the dog on you.’

Harry walked towards the car. A blue dusk was settling down over the sleepy countryside. The air was redolent of woodsmoke, manure and the ammonia smell of animals. He thought of Rose. He remembered that look she had given him in Madame de Peurey’s garden. He suddenly came to a decision. When this case was over, he would ask her to marry him. If she refused, he would never see her again.

The duchess received his news that Dolores had originally been called Betty-something and had disappeared one day on a shopping expedition to Saint Malo.

‘This is all becoming rather fatiguing and boring,’ she complained.

Rose looked at her uneasily. If the duchess became tired of their company so soon, she and Daisy would be returned to the convent.

The hotel was not grand enough for the duchess, although the food was good and the rooms clean.

Rose’s worst fears were realized when they set out the next morning for Paris. As she arranged her various shawls and scarves before leaving, the duchess said, ‘This is all very tiresome. I think I was a bit hasty about that convent. Sterling ladies. Do you good to go back.’

‘I really think the regime is unnecessarily harsh,’ pleaded Rose. ‘Can you not bear with us a little longer? My parents should soon be returning.’

The earl and countess of Hadshire reclined side by side on deckchairs on the terrace of the Palace Hotel. ‘Suppose we should be thinking of packing up,’ said the earl sleepily.

‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Lady Polly. ‘The Cremonts are going on to Cairo. We’ve never been to Cairo.’

‘The Season will be starting soon,’ her husband pointed out.

‘And why should we scamper back for the Season? Rose is in Effie’s care and Effie can cope with her. Cairo would be fun, camels and things. I’m really weary of the Season, dressing Rose and parading her around and watching her get into more trouble. Effie can cope.’

There was a shock waiting for the duchess and her party when they arrived back at the Crillon. There seemed to be a great number of press outside. Magnesium flashes went off in their faces. Waiting for them in the entrance hall was a commissioner of police and two detectives.

The commissioner approached. He looked a little bit like Kerridge with his heavy features and grey hair. He bowed low. ‘I am Thierry Lemonier. I regret to say I have many questions to ask you.’

‘About what?’ snapped the little duchess. ‘Come up to my rooms. I am tired and do not wish to stand in the public gaze being interrogated by a bunch of peelers.’