“I’ve a question,” Fen said. “How did she know where Haworth was? This is a huge house and it’s an absolute nuisance to find anyone, but nobody has reported anyone knocking on doors and looking for people. Even if Jack told her that Haworth went to the East Wing, it has all sorts of rooms.”

“The appointment Jack mentioned?” Bill said. “Assuming it exists.”

“But that doesn’t makes sense,” Fen said. “He wouldn’t make an appointment to meet his own wife. Unless he made it with Jack, who told Lady Anna. But Haworth was already with Jack—or so he says—so they’d surely have talked in the drawing room or gone to the East Wing together.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t make sense,” Bill said. “What’s abundantly clear is that Jack has been less than honest, and I think we need another conversation with him. It seems to me he’s holding all the cards here. He so often does.”

It felt like having her ears boxed. The impact was sudden, stunning, filling her head with light and sound that blotted out every other consideration. Pat stared at nothing as the others kept talking. Bill said something she didn’t hear, but it made Jimmy uncurl from his hunched misery. Fen replied, equally animated. Pat needed them all to be quiet.

“Because he went directly there!” Fen was saying as Pat surfaced. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“You’re right,” Jimmy said. “You’re exactly right. The only reason—”

“Everyone be quiet. Stop. Good God, shut up!” Pat yelped, throwing manners to the wind. “Bill! Do you have that key?”

“To the room? Yes. I thought I’d hang on to it.”

“We need to go. Come on, come on, there’s no time to sit around!”

“What on earth is it?” Fen demanded.

“Just a minute. Bill, come on.”

Pat grabbed Bill’s arm, dragging him to the door, which was locked. She fumbled with the key.

“Pat!” Fen almost shrieked. “What is it?”

“I think I know what’s happened, but I have to check.”

“But I think I know too!”

“Five minutes, compare notes.” Pat shoved the door open, and she and Bill hurried to the East Wing together, Pat setting the pace.

“What on earth are we doing?” Bill asked as they went.

“Checking something I should have realised before.”

“But what will looking at Haworth’s corpse tell you?”

“Just get on,” Pat said. “I don’t want the police to turn up while we’re mucking about in there.”

They half-ran up the stairs. The first-floor corridor felt very cold. Bill unlocked the room in question, opened the door, and made a face. “You might want to reconsider this. Or let me look for whatever it is.”