“If he really is who he pretends to be,” I said. “But he did look rather green about the gills when we discovered the body, didn’t he? And if he did kill Mr. Goldman, then why draw attention to himself by knocking over the armor and putting the helmet on his head? He could have just slipped in to join the group and probably nobody would have noticed.”

“Unless, as you say, he was being rather too clever. He wants us to say that it couldn’t possibly be him, because he was staggering around with a helmet stuck on his head, being idiotic as usual.”

We looked at each other.

“Darcy, how can we ever figure out who did this?”

“Well, if it was Algie, his fingerprints will be on the candlestick,” Darcy said. “Actually the same goes for the rest of us. Nobody is wearing gloves. . . .”

“Or carrying a handkerchief? Wouldn’t that do just as well?”

Darcy took me into his arms. “You are a cold-blooded little thing, aren’t you? Calmly discussing methods of murder.”

“I’m not always cold-blooded.” I smiled up at him. “And if we ever get a chance I’ll prove it to you.”

He kissed me on the tip of my nose. “I can’t wait.” Then he slipped an arm around my shoulder. “I suppose we should go in with the others and face the music.”

Chapter 20

I had expected to find a bigger group in the rotunda, but I saw only my mother and Stella, sitting side by side holding hands on the sofa, and Charlie Chaplin and Algie, over at the bar with what looked like glasses of scotch, all stiff and silent as if posing for a portrait. Ronnie’s voice could be heard, raised and strained, from a telephone in some alcove in the foyer. “Yes, I’m sure it’s Mr. Goldman. I know what my employer looks like.” And then, “How soon? Well, I suppose we have no choice. Of course, I understand that. But you realize this will be a high-profile case. Your men will be in the spotlight. You’re going to need to get it right.”

The telephone was slammed down and Ronnie’s feet echoed from the ceramic tiled floor as he crossed the foyer toward us. “Damned fools,” he muttered. “They say their men are needed at a suspicious fire up in hills above the Simi Valley. That’s miles from here. The sheriff is going to try and make it over here himself but he says nothing must be touched until he gets here. Does he mean touch nothing in the library or the whole rest of the house? What are we supposed to do, then. Not move?”

“I gather you spoke with the groundsmen,” Darcy said. “We heard those little carts outside.”