‘If Lady Rose had not felt there was something wrong with him, he could have stayed and played innocent. I am sure he meant to inform the police anonymously that she had the pearls,’ said Harry. ‘And the police might have begun to think it was one coincidence too many.’

‘I think you had better begin at the beginning,’ said Inspector Macleod, ‘and tell me the whole story.’

So Harry did, ending up by saying, ‘That is why Lady Rose is staying here, for her safety.’

‘I do not think he will dare come near the castle again,’ said Aunt Elizabeth.

‘I will telephone Superintendent Kerridge,’ said Inspector Macleod. ‘All the railway stations and ports will need to be watched. I will send the pearls to him by special courier. He will want to send them to the new Fingerprint Bureau.’

‘I wonder if he had been in service anywhere,’ said Harry. ‘May we ask that head footman of yours, Lady Carrick, and see what he thinks?’

Aunt Elizabeth pulled the bell rope. Jamie, the head footman, entered immediately. ‘I’ve told you not to listen at doors,’ snapped Aunt Elizabeth.

The footman looked hurt. ‘I wouldnae dream o’ it, my lady.’

‘Anyway, Jamie, we want your impressions of this footman, Charlie. Did he know his job?’

‘Aye, we didnae have to explain duties to him. He’d done it afore.’

‘That’s a good place to start,’ said Sir Edwin Godfrey. ‘He sounded English, did he?’

‘Aye,’ said Charlie. ‘He said his family were Scottish but had moved south when he was a wee lad.’

Harry noticed Rose looked shaken. He went quickly to her and took her hand.

‘Do not worry,’ he said. ‘Now we know who he is and we have a good description, we’ll get him.’

She smiled shakily up at him. ‘I am glad you are wearing my ring,’ he whispered. Rose somehow could not bring herself to tell him that she was wearing it because she had merely tried it on and could not get it off.

There was a more relaxed air about the castle now that the killer was being hunted down. Surely he could not get away now. The following day, Harry, Daisy and Becket went to Inveraray and Rose telephoned her mother.

Lady Polly was frosty, to say the least. ‘I am very tired of hearing about your adventures, Rose,’ she said. ‘Mrs Blenkinsop’s gel is marrying Sir Peter Winde, handsome and rich. Everyone of your generation is marrying well except you. I hoped that convent would have drilled some manners and modesty into you.’

‘Mama, I –’

‘I want to have a severe talk to you when you return. Your odd relationship with Cathcart has been disastrous. We were in Cairo and the season there is very good. Perhaps next year. Lots of marriageable men, although with your reputation you will probably have to settle for a widower or someone much older. I am very disappointed in you. We had such hopes.’