“We can tell you that, pretty accurately,” Darcy said. “It must have been within a fifteen-minute window from the time Craig and I left to the time when we heard the crash of that suit of armor. So between ten thirty and ten forty-five.”

“That’s just your word for it, sir. We’ll have to see if the medical examiner agrees with you. They shouldn’t be too long now, I hope, although it’s quite a drive in the fog.”

Almost on cue the telephone rang. Ronnie looked inquiringly at the sheriff, then went to answer it. “What?” I heard him say. “Yes, the sheriff is here. Of course, bring him up.” Then his eyebrows raised and he said, “Her? It’s a woman?”

He came back to us. “That was one of our groundsmen, calling from the gatehouse. They caught someone.”

“Trying to escape?”

“No, trying to break in. They can’t quite understand her and she fought like a wildcat but they are bringing her up to the house right now.”

The sheriff looked pleased. “The accomplice, mark my words,” he said. “She was probably waiting with the getaway car.”

The tension in the room was palpable as we waited. It seemed to take forever but at last we heard the sound of a motor and the crunch of tires. Then there was a raised woman’s voice, some male grunting and a couple of curses as Ronnie went to open the front door.

“Get yer bleeding ’ands off me,” said a strong Cockney accent. “This ain’t no way to treat someone what’s connected to your guests and royal people at that.”

And a red-faced and very disheveled Queenie was shoved, struggling, into the foyer.

Chapter 23

I stood up as Queenie looked around, blinking like an owl in the electric light. “A fine welcome you give people in America, that’s all I can say,” she said.

“We caught her trying to force her way through the gate,” the groundsman said. “We couldn’t quite understand what she was saying but she was clearly up to no good.”

“I was trying to get in and the blooming gate wouldn’t open,” Queenie said angrily. “And then suddenly these men start shouting and grabbing me. I told them I’m with Lady Georgiana Rannoch what’s staying here as a guest of Mr. Goldman.” Her gaze fastened on me. “Oh, there you are, miss. Thank God. I’m so glad to see you. Tell these people who I am. They’ve been treating me like I’m some kind of criminal or something. Manhandling me something shocking.”

“What are you doing here, Queenie?” I asked. “A social call at almost midnight? No wonder the gatekeeper was suspicious of you.”