Cordelia nodded. “Tell you later,” she said, as Caroline found her way to their sides.

“Can we go now,” she asked. “Only, we’re all dying for a coffee.”

Lindsay nodded and briefly explained the situation to Cordelia as Caroline shouted, “Okay, anyone for Longnor, Axe, Goyt, Wildboarclough. Come now or face the psychopath alone.”

Half a dozen girls peeled off from the group and followed Lindsay and Cordelia out into the back drive and down the well-lit path through the woods to the houses. As they left the main building behind, Lindsay glanced back at the window of the room where Lorna had been killed. A light still burned at the window as the police scene-of-crimes officers worked on. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, but she dismissed at once any idea that the killer could have come through the window. Only a chimpanzee could have made that climb without being instantly visible from the hall or the music corridor. She turned back, and followed the file of chattering girls, headed by Cordelia and Caroline who were already deep in animated conversation.

7

Having seen their charges safely stowed, Lindsay and Cordelia escaped to Paddy’s sitting-room. Lindsay headed straight for the gas fire and warmed her hands, while Cordelia made for the cocktail cabinet.

“I don’t suppose Paddy would mind if we fixed ourselves a drink,” she said. “I could certainly use one.” She tried the door. “Damn! It’s locked.”

Lindsay stood up. “She keeps it locked when she’s not here. I noticed her unlocking it last night. I suppose there’s always the chance that it might get raided by some adolescent alcoholic. I’ve got an Islay malt upstairs in my bag if you fancy that.”

“If that’s some kind of whisky, yes please, I feel the need for some calming alcohol. Say, a couple of bottles for starters!”

Lindsay smiled to herself as she went to collect the drink. When she returned, she found Cordelia crouched by the fire, shivering. She immediately went over to her and put an arm round her shoulders.

“Silly, really. I can’t stop shivering. Must be reaction. Be an angel and fix me a drink, would you? Water in it, please, about the same amount as whisky.”

Lindsay went through to the kitchen and poured out the two drinks, mentally scoring another plus point to Cordelia for drinking her whisky properly—in other words, as Lindsay preferred it. Cordelia followed her and took her tumbler gratefully. She gulped down a large slug of whisky and water, shuddered convulsively as the fire in the peaty spirit hit her, then relaxed.

“Better?” asked Lindsay.

“Much. Let’s go back into the warm.”