“It’s thirty miles to the nearest police station,” Jimmy said. “We could ’phone from the village if the lines haven’t come down in the storm, and summon Dr. Chorley as well, but we can’t send a man there tonight unless we want another—that is, we can’t.”

“Why do we need a doctor?” Pat asked. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

Fen made a noise that sounded like a giggle, and clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes widening in horror. Pat couldn’t blame her. She felt on the edge of hysteria herself.

“Procedure,” Bill said. “I dare say the police will have their own man, but someone needs to examine the body as soon as possible.”

“And he must be laid out,” the Countess said, sitting up. “Anna, you must—”

“No,” Lady Anna said. “No, you can’t make me do that. You can’t!”

“Nobody must do that, madam,” Bill said. “It—he must be left untouched until the police arrive.”

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Merton. My son-in-law will be given the respect that any man, any member of this family is due.”

“Rites,” the Earl added. “Decencies.”

Bill looked between them, then pointedly at Jimmy, who swallowed. “Ma, Pa, you don’t understand. It’s—well, it’s murder.”

“No,” the Countess said. She was shaking. “No.”

“He’s got a knife in his back.” Jimmy’s control sounded to be slipping. “The knife from down here, stuck in his back while he was sitting at a desk. He didn’t trip and fall on it!”

“Jim,” Bill said. “Get another drink. Get me one, while you’re at it. I’m afraid he’s right. Mr. Haworth has been murdered and this is a police matter.”

“But that’s not possible,” Preston said. “That is, obviously it is, but for heaven’s sake. How did the fellow get in?”

“What fellow?” Bill asked.

“The murderer.”

“What murderer?”

“The one who put a knife in his back!”

Bill massaged his temple with one hand. “I grasp that, but what do you mean, get in?”

“I think he means that it was a—a passing tramp,” Pat said. She could feel a laugh rising again, and dug her nails into her thumb.

“Exactly,” Preston said. “Someone who came in to steal. Maurice must have surprised him.”

“He was stabbed in the back while sitting at a desk on the first floor.” Jimmy spoke with tenuous calm. “He was killed with a knife taken from this room. And how many passing tramps have you seen out there?”

“It’s a nice thought,” Bill added, more gently. “But it isn’t awfully likely.”

“But it has to be,” Fen said. “Because if it wasn’t someone from outside the house, you know, it would have to be someone inside, which— Oh.”