There was no suggestion of any kind of evening jollity tonight. I went up to bed almost immediately after coffee. I was feeling completely exhausted, I suspect by the shock of two alarming events in one day. I lay there, listening to the sigh of the wind while I tried to blot images from my mind—the world swinging crazily as I hung upside down, and then Babe, lying in the midst of all that blood and water with the lavatory cistern broken around her and her little white bottom exposed for all to see. Someone was at loose in our midst who had evil, if not murder, on his mind. I had been charged with trying to find out who it was and I hadn’t done anything so far. I had better get a move on with my investigation. This had to be stopped.

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Castle Rannoch
August 20, 1932
Promising to be a lovely day.

I was woken by the sound of tapping on my door. It was already misty daylight. I must have slept through the piper, if indeed he had played again this morning. Maggie came in with my morning tea, followed by Hamilton, with a perplexed look on his face.

“I’m sorry to wake you, my lady, but . . .”

“What is it, Hamilton?”

“There is a person in the front hall, wishing to speak to you.”

“What kind of person?”

“A person from the lower classes, my lady.”

“And what does he want with me?”

“He says to tell you that he came ‘as quick as he could, and Bob’s your uncle, he’s here.’ But I don’t think that Bob is your uncle, is he, my lady?”

I sat up in bed, laughing. “It’s a Cockney expression, Hamilton. And it’s not a person, it’s my grandfather.”

“Your—grandfather, my lady?” There was a distinct gulp.

“My mother’s father, Hamilton.”

“Am I to understand that he will be staying here, at the castle?” He must have been rattled. He forgot to add “my lady.”

“Oh no. Not at all. He’s going to stay in one of the empty cottages on the estate. The one next to Nanny looked quite nice, I thought.”

I saw the relief sweep over his face. “Very suitable, my lady. And what should I do with him until you come down?”

“Put him in the morning room with a cup of tea and the paper,” I said. “He is house-trained, you know.”

“My lady, I wasn’t implying . . .” he stammered.