‘A certain Miss Dolly Tremaine.’

‘Oh, that beautiful girl,’ wailed Lady Polly. ‘But what has all this to do with my daughter?’

Matthew came in at that moment and the earl roared, ‘Get Cathcart. He’s got to come here now.’

‘Very good, my lord.’

‘Your daughter, Lady Rose Summer, had an appointment to meet Miss Tremaine at the Serpentine Bridge at six o’clock this morning.’

‘Why the deuce . . .?’

‘Miss Tremaine gave me a note at the ball last night,’ said Rose. ‘She said she was running away. When I arrived at the bridge, I looked over and saw her lying dead in that rowing-boat dressed as the Lady of Shalott.’

‘Who’s she?’ demanded the earl. ‘She ain’t in Debrett’s, I can tell you that. Foreigner, hey?’

‘The Lady of Shalott is the title of a poem by Lord Tennyson, Pa. I have a copy of his poems here. This is the famous illustration, Mr Kerridge.’

‘Any idea why she was dressed like that?’

‘Miss Tremaine may have had the costume made to wear at a fancy-dress ball next week.’

‘Have you any idea why she would want to run away?’

‘I do not know. I only know that she was bewildered and unhappy in society. Her father is a country rector and her parents would expect her to marry someone with money to offset the cost of a Season.’

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ muttered the earl.

‘I assume you have interviewed her parents,’ said Rose. ‘Have they any idea why she would want to run away?’

‘None whatsoever,’ said Kerridge. ‘In fact, they say that she was about to be engaged before the Season even started. To a certain Lord Berrow.’

‘Lord Berrow is old,’ said Rose. ‘That is probably the reason she wanted to run away.’

‘Fiddlesticks,’ said Lady Polly. ‘The trouble is that girls these days will read cheap romances. One does not marry for love.’

‘Steady on, old girl,’ protested the earl.

‘We were a rare exception,’ said Lady Polly. ‘Where is this rector’s church?’

‘Probably somewhere dire like Much-Slopping-in-the-Bog,’ said the earl. ‘Hey, rather neat that, what?’

Quite amazing, thought Kerridge. Their only child has just discovered a murder and yet they seem to have no concern for her welfare.

‘Captain Cathcart,’ announced the butler.

‘How did he get here so quickly?’ asked the earl.

‘He’s got a motor car,’ said Rose.

‘Nasty, smelly things. Never replace the horse. Sit down, Cathcart.’ The earl pointed a finger at Rose. ‘Rose is in trouble again.’

Kerridge reflected briefly that one of his mother’s lectures had been, ‘Don’t point. Ladies and gentlemen don’t point.’ This lot would have been an eye-opener, thought Kerridge sourly.

‘Lady Rose’, he began, ‘discovered the murdered body of a Miss Dolly Tremaine early this morning.’ Harry listened intently as Kerridge outlined all he knew.

‘What do her family say?’ asked Harry. ‘Had she any enemies?’

‘They are grief-stricken and bewildered. They do not know of any enemies.’

‘Any brothers or sisters?’