By the time we reached the gate it was open and a man in a dark uniform with brass buttons was standing beside it. He saluted me as I drove through. I noticed in my rearview mirror that he was locking the gate behind me. A shiver of apprehension shot through me. Was I recklessly driving into a lion’s den? The driveway led through parklike grounds until it reached an elegant redbrick house, built in the shape of an E. A woman in a crisply starched white uniform was standing on the steps in the middle part of the E.

“This is a pleasant surprise, my lady,” she said in her cultured voice. “Do come inside. And this must be your dear uncle.”

“That’s right. This is Mr. Angus MacTavish Hume. Uncle Angus, we’re going to have a short visit at this nice place.”

“Hospital?” He said the word in a stage whisper.

I laughed, gaily. “No, it’s not a hospital. It’s like a hotel. You’ll see.”

The woman in white ushered us in to a black-and-white-tiled entrance hall and offered us a seat on a leather sofa. “If you’d be good enough to wait here, I’ll let Matron know that you have arrived.”

Her heels tapped away on the tiled floor. As soon as she turned the corner I leaped up. “Keep guard for me,” I whispered and I started to try the doors on either side of the hall. The first was a closet; the second opened into an office. There were filing cabinets against the walls but I didn’t think I’d have time to go through them, not knowing what I was looking for. I didn’t for one minute think there would be a file labeled Duke of Clarence. Top secret. If he was here, it would be under an assumed name.

But on the desk was a large visitors book, open at today’s date. No visitors so far today. I turned back to the day before, and the one before that. Not many people came to visit their loony relatives, I noted. Then I saw a name I recognized: V. Padgett. And under the patient’s name: Maisie McPhee.

“Someone’s comin’,” Granddad hissed through the door. I sprinted back to the sofa, just as a hatchet-faced older woman in a blue uniform appeared. “I understand you have brought your uncle to see over our institution, my lady,” she said in disapproving tones. “This is highly irregular. We like to do things by appointment here.”

“I understand, but it seemed so opportune that we were passing when I had Uncle with me in the car. Naturally he has to be comfortable with any arrangements made for him.” I glanced at him and he gave his best imitation of an inane smile. I helped him to his feet.

“How exactly did you hear about us?” she asked.