“If we are to believe your diagnosis that cyanide was administered,” Siegfried said carefully, “then we must do our duty and find the person who committed this shocking act. Just because the occupants of this castle are royal does not put us above the justice system of our country.”

“Well spoken, Your Highness,” said a deep voice in guttural French, and a figure stepped from the darkness at the far end of the library. If I had been asked to describe Dracula, this man would have fit the bill perfectly. Tall, thin, hollow cheeked, hollow eyed and very pale, he was dressed head to toe in black, which accentuated the whiteness of his skin. For one ridiculous moment it crossed my mind to wonder whether Vlad the Impaler was still alive and still ruled this castle and the people in it. The man moved toward us with smooth, menacing steps. Then he looked around at us and smiled. “If the personages at this table were not of such exalted rank, I should think that I was witnessing a conspiracy and have you all arrested on the spot,” he said. “However, as His Highness Prince Siegfried has just so wisely said, even royal personages are not above the law. If I understood correctly, and I admit that my English is not as fluent as it should be, you were planning to cover up a murder so that there would be no unpleasantness and the wedding could take place as planned. Am I right?”

“Who the devil are you?” Nicholas asked coldly.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Patrascue, head of the Romanian secret police.” He pulled up a chair and squeezed himself in between Nicholas and Dragomir. “Given the importance of the occasion and the presence of foreign royalty, I elected to travel with Their Majesties to this royal wedding. How fortunate that I did, wasn’t it? I had only just arrived when one of my men reported to me that he had overheard a conversation about a murder and a body being whisked away.”

I looked across at Lady Middlesex, who had gone a little pink.

“So perhaps one of you would be good enough to tell me who died.”

“Field Marshal Pirin,” Siegfried said. “Head of the Bulgarian armed forces.”

“Also senior adviser to my father and a powerful force in the politics of the region.”

“Ah, so we are looking at a political murder, are we?” Patrascue licked his lips. “Very well. Understand this. I will be conducting the investigation and you will be answering my questions—royal or not. Do not think that your exalted rank puts you above the law in Romania. Dear me, no. Our country is a constitutional monarchy and you really have very little power.”