‘You’ve sent Paul off on another search, my love,’ he said. ‘Now that he realises whom he saw outside the theatre, my brother is convinced that Harry is somehow involved in this case. As soon as he’s been home to see that everything is well, Paul is going to dedicate himself to finding this man.’ He studied Scattergood’s face. ‘It won’t be easy. Harry is as cunning as a fox.’

‘Paul has caught a lot of foxes in his time.’

‘I know. He loves the chase.’

Gully Ackford sauntered in, holding a letter.

‘This has just been delivered by hand,’ he said. ‘It’s addressed to “Mr Skillen” but it doesn’t say which one.’

‘Well, Paul’s not here to read it,’ said Peter, ‘so I’ll do so.’ He took the letter and opened it. ‘It’s from Mrs Denley.’

‘Then it was intended for Paul’s eyes,’ said Charlotte.

‘They’re both firmly fixed on the search for Harry Scattergood. There’s a note of urgency in Mrs Denley’s appeal. I don’t think she can wait until Paul is free to attend to her. I’ll go in his stead.’

‘Tell her that you are Paul,’ joked Ackford. ‘She won’t know the difference.’

‘Mrs Denley might not but I will and I’m not going to deceive her. A call for help like this must be answered promptly.’

‘What does she say?’ asked Charlotte.

‘See for yourself.’

Peter handed her the letter and she read it. She thrust it back at him.

‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘There’s a whiff of desperation here. Something has really upset Mrs Denley. Go to her, Peter.’

Oswald Ferriday was walking down a corridor in the House of Commons when he saw Sir Marcus Brough strolling towards him. They exchanged greetings and stopped for a friendly chat.

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,’ said Sir Marcus.

‘This is my bolt-hole,’ explained the other. ‘If I stay at home, I’m bearded by one or other of the Skillen brothers.’

‘Don’t bank on being safe here, Oswald. I was accosted by Paul Skillen as I left the chamber yesterday. He’s infernally persistent.’

‘So is his brother.’

‘Each is as bad as the other.’

‘Neither of them ever met the Radical Dandy,’ said Ferriday, ‘yet they’re conducting an investigation into his death as if they were close relatives of his.’

‘How right you are, Oswald. Talking of relatives …’

‘Yes?’

‘Sir Roger has finally gone – thank heaven – but there’s a rumour that he may be replaced by someone else from the Mellanby family.’

‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

‘Don’t worry. From what I hear, Edmund, his elder son, is cut from a very different cloth. There’ll be no more blazing oratory about the need for reform.’

‘That’s a relief.’