“Possibly,” I said. “But I got the feeling that Miss Padgett was just needling her, not really threatening to dismiss her. What does she say about it?”

“She was quite upset, actually. She was down at a house party in Sussex and she had left her maid in London. She had no idea what the maid would have been doing near the aerodrome when her mistress wasn’t planning to return to London for several days and had given her maid no instructions to leave the residence.”

“I wish I could help you, Sir William,” I said, “but as I just told you, I had no dealings with this person.”

“You’re a friend of this Miss Padgett, are you?”

“Not at all. I only met her once and then by chance. She happened to land her aeroplane at Croydon Aerodrome when I was visiting with friends. She knew one of our party and we went to drink a glass of champagne with her while she waited for her maid.”

“I see,” he said. There was a long pause. “Just an unfortunate coincidence,” he went on, “but it’s lucky that you’re leaving London, or this might turn into another whiff of scandal that we simply can’t allow.”

“Is that all?” I asked. I felt as if my nerves were close to snapping. Honestly, I’d done nothing wrong and I was beginning to feel as if I were a prisoner in the dock and the black cap might be produced at any minute.

He nodded. “Well, that seems to be that, then.” He glanced at his watch. “If we made a dash for King’s Cross, we might still catch today’s Flying Scotsman. It leaves at ten o’clock, doesn’t it?”

“Today’s Flying Scotsman?” I stared at him, openmouthed. “I will need some time to pack, you know. I can’t just up and go to Scotland.”

“Have your maid do it for you, and she can follow on a later train. Surely you have the bulk of your clothing at Castle Rannoch?”

Now I was feeling both angry and flustered. “Contrary to popular belief, all aristocrats are not rich enough to own a vast wardrobe. The few items of clothing I possess are with me in London.”

“But you can do without them until tonight. I’ll have my man drive you via Belgrave Square so that you can give your maid instructions and pick up the odd toiletry.”

“I have no maid at the moment,” I reminded him.

“No maid? You’ve been living in Rannoch House alone?” His manner implied that I had indeed been operating the suspected house of ill repute.

“I can’t afford a maid,” I said. “Which is why I’ve been trying to find work.”