I made my way downstairs again. The hallways seemed colder than ever, with banners actually wafting in the wind. As I looked around me I realized that servants were everywhere. Usually one does not even notice the presence of servants, but at this moment I was particularly aware of them. Which made me think—if an intruder was in the castle, someone else must know about him. It wouldn’t be possible to sneak around without encountering a servant or two, so someone had to be feeding the intruder and keeping him safely hidden. That indicated that the assassin had to be from here, and not one of the guests from Bulgaria.

Of course then my thoughts turned again to Count Dragomir. I found that I was passing the door to the sitting room where I had spotted the portrait. I opened the door cautiously and found the room empty. I tiptoed over to the fireplace and stared up at the portrait. In the flickering light of the fire it looked almost alive.

“All alone, my lady?” said a deep voice behind me.

I gasped and spun around. Count Dragomir was standing there, in the flesh. “Is there something I can get you?” he asked. “Some tea, maybe? You English like your tea at this hour, I believe.”

“Er—no, thank you,” I stammered.

“Then perhaps you came in here to be alone or to take an afternoon snooze,” he said. “I leave you to sweet dreams.”

He bowed and was about to retreat when I plucked up courage.

“Count Dragomir,” I said, “I couldn’t help noticing that there is a bad feeling between you and the policeman Patrascue.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual,” Dragomir said. “We were at the university together as young men. We took an instant disliking to each other. He was a sneaky, underhand sort of fellow even then.” I felt that there was more but he was not going to tell me.

I took a deep breath and risked the second question. “That portrait on the wall. Have you noticed—the resemblance to you is striking. But I’m sure you weren’t born in seventeen hundred and something.” I gave a gay little laugh.

“You’re right. The family resemblance is strong,” he said, examining it. “One of my ancestors. We used to own this castle, you know. In fact, we used to be rulers of Transylvania when it was an autonomous state and not part of Romania.”

“But I was told you came from Yugoslavia.”