More policemen arrived on the scene. Rose explained that as she bent down to tie her bootlace, a bullet had whizzed over her head and shattered the window. ‘I assume it was a bullet,’ she said, ‘because I heard someone shouting, “He’s got a gun”.’

A police inspector joined them just in time to hear Rose’s last words. ‘Get into that crowd,’ he roared, ‘and get hold of anyone who saw this man.’

At last a small, fussy elderly man was propelled through the crowd to the inspector.

‘There was a lot of traffic, officer. I noticed him because he had an odd colour of red hair. He stood in the middle of the traffic behind a hackney carriage and I wondered why he did not cross. Then, as the traffic in front of him cleared, he pulled out a gun and fired.’

‘Age? What was he wearing?’

‘He was wearing a long black cloak. Oh, and he had pince-nez. No hat.’

Another two witness were brought forward. They said they had seen the man with the red hair and black cloak run away in the direction of Green Park.

The inspector snapped out orders. The park was to be searched immediately and all the streets round about.

Kerridge had been talking to Harry when the phone on his desk rang. When he answered it, Harry, to his dismay, heard Kerridge exclaim, ‘Lady Rose! Shot! I’ll be down there right away.’

‘Is she dead?’ asked Harry. ‘Please don’t tell me she’s dead.’

‘No. Someone fired a shot at her in Piccadilly. She bent down to tie her bootlace and that’s what saved her. Lady Rose is being escorted home. We’d better go there.’

Lord and Lady Hadshire were heading back to London, a local policeman having been sent to tell them about the attack on their daughter.

‘I’ve had enough,’ said the earl. ‘The only thing is to send her out of the country where she’ll be safe. I must say Cathcart’s been a fat lot of good at protecting her.’

‘It’s Rose’s fault,’ moaned the countess. ‘Always wilful. And what were the servants about to let her leave the house?’

‘If Brum thinks he’s getting any sort of raise in pay after this, he can forget it,’ raged her husband.

‘I wouldn’t do that,’ said Lady Polly uneasily. ‘He might talk to the press.’

Rose was beginning to feel exhausted as she told her story over and over again to Harry and the superintendent. Matthew had told her that her parents were on their way back and she felt sure that nothing now would stop them from packing her off to India. Inspector Judd had been placed on guard outside the drawing-room to make sure none of the servants was listening outside the door.

‘I think the fellow was probably wearing a wig,’ said Harry. ‘I mean the wig, the pince-nez and the black cloak are really all that anyone can remember. I think, Lady Rose, that it would be a good idea to get you out of London for a bit, but not to Stacey Court. You would not even be safe in your country home. I wish we could lock you up in a police station.’