“I don’t know about you, but the more we find out, the more confused I get. We need to sit down and work out the permutations of what we know. What I need is a day off, to put all this to the back of my mind and do something completely different. But I know I can’t walk away from this until we’ve at least got Paddy out of the mess she’s in,” Lindsay replied in a very tired voice.

“I know just what you mean,” sighed Cordelia.

Back at the school, they drew up another of Cordelia’s lists of essential information they’d picked up on their inquiries. As they suspected, the evidence still pointed in too many directions. Nothing had emerged that proved conclusively that Paddy could not have murdered Lorna Smith-Couper. Lindsay phoned Pamela Overton and asked her if Cartwright had a set of keys to the school. She promised to check up and let them know. Lindsay paced up and down Paddy’s sitting-room, a worried frown on her face.

“There’s something at the back of my mind that’s got some bearing on the case. It’s something I saw or heard. I can’t even remember which. But some tiny thing has impressed itself on my mind and I’ve a feeling that it’s the key to the whole damn business. Oh God, I wish I could remember! What a fool I am!” she exclaimed angrily.

“Relax,” soothed Cordelia. “Try not to think about it and perhaps it will spring into your mind when you’re doing something else.”

“I’ve tried that. It hasn’t worked so far. Do you know any good hypnotists?” asked Lindsay with a wry smile. “Now, we’ve still got things to do, you know. Shall we try to get hold of Caroline Barrington or Sarah Cartwright? It’s almost four now, classes must be nearly finished.”

“I suppose Caroline’s the next person we should see,” Cordelia sighed. “She might just know something that will help us put more pressure on Sarah Cartwright.”

“Not until I’ve had another large injection of caffeine,” Lindsay groaned. “Her heart seems to be in the right place, but she talks like a blue streak. I need to be fortified before we grill her, or Caroline will end up grilling us.”

She rose to go through to the kitchen, but before she could get there, Paddy’s phone rang. Cordelia reached across the desk and picked it up. “Hello, Miss Callaghan’s room . . . yes, that’s right . . . Well, slowly at present, though I think we’re making some . . . no, not as yet. No, we haven’t been in contact with the police at all . . . well, I couldn’t actually say. If you insist, we’ll certainly do our best. Yes, four-thirty is fine. Yes, Lindsay knows that. Till then.”