‘The Honourable Cyril Banks proposed to Dolly and was turned down.’

‘Let me see, that one has a bad reputation from drinking and gambling. I feel sure Dolly’s parents told her to turn him down. No money there.’

‘Anyway, I’m going to interview him.’

‘Mind if I come along?’ asked Harry.

‘Very well. But I’ll get a lecture from Judd over allowing amateurs into a Scotland Yard investigation.’

‘What about the gun?’

‘We got the bullet. It was embedded in some stupid hat covered in dead birds. Our expert thinks it came from a lady’s purse revolver, maybe a 0.2500 French-Belgian one.’

‘Any gun of that type registered to anyone?’

‘We’re working on it. Let’s go and see what the Honourable Cyril has to say for himself.’

They tracked Cyril down to The Club in St James’. His manservant had told them that was where he had gone. The gloomy Inspector Judd had at last to realize that there was some benefit in bringing Harry along, for The Club would not have allowed policemen, however high-ranking, past the entrance. Since Harry was a member, he was sent in to winkle Cyril out.

Kerridge waited outside until Cyril, protesting volubly that he would have Harry blackballed, emerged at last from The Club and was helped into the police car and they all drove to Scotland Yard.

In Kerridge’s office, a flustered Cyril was still protesting. ‘It is disgraceful that I should be dragged out of my club like a common criminal. I shall report you to the Home Office.’

‘Settle down, Mr Banks,’ said Kerridge. ‘Only a few questions and then you will be driven back to your club. Now, we believe you proposed marriage to Miss Tremaine and were turned down.’

‘So what?’ said Cyril. He raised his monocle, screwed it firmly in one eye and glared at Kerridge.

‘As you know, we are investigating her murder.’

‘Here, now!’ exclaimed Cyril. ‘I’m leaving. You’re trying to pin this murder on me!’

‘Sit down, Mr Banks. No one is accusing you of anything. We simply, at this stage, want to ask a few questions about Miss Tremaine. Did she say anything or give any indication that she was being threatened?’

‘Well, no. In fact she prattled on about the countryside and how she missed it. Empty-headed sort of girl.’

‘If you thought her empty-headed, why did you want to marry her?’

Cyril looked at the superintendent as if he thought the man had lost his wits.

‘She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. What did it matter whether she had a brain or not?’

‘How did you take it when you were rejected by her?’

‘She didn’t reject me, the parents did. Never got as far as popping the question to her. I asked her father’s permission and he told me she was meant for greater things. I told him she couldn’t do better than me and who did he think he was anyway? A mere country rector. Silly little man.’