Of course there was no logic to what I’d just said. That was why I reckoned it would work. If I came up with a more rational reason for not hiding under a duvet when I’d been given permission to do just that, Winter would continue to question what I was doing. Instead, he’d spend so much time puzzling about it that he’d stop asking.

Just in case, I rushed ahead. ‘We need to go and speak to Bellows. If Belinda and her vial have been ruled out, he’s the only other person who’s got any reason to be dodgy.’ My mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘And from those photos, he’s dodgy as hell.’ I swung a side look at Winter. ‘Has Belinda said anything about them?’

He was silent for a moment, as if he still wanted to ask more about the Ipsissimus and my reasons for springing up from my sick bed. Fortunately, his inner investigator took over. ‘Our focus was on the vial. The photos, distasteful as they are, don’t seem pertinent to necromancy.’

‘No,’ I agreed. ‘But they are pertinent to being a bastard.’ I still didn’t think Bellows was the bastard witch we were looking for but there were few other options at this point. ‘Where’s Tarquin?’

Winter stilled. ‘Why?’

‘He’s obviously good friends with Moonbeam. I imagine he has insights into all this which we can only guess at.’

Winter was only slightly appeased. ‘Unless he’s gone with the others, Tarquin’s probably around here somewhere. Many witches are. They’re using tracking spells to see if they can work out where the zombie came from.’ His expression was grim. ‘Not to mention making sure there aren’t any more of the damn things anywhere.’

I frowned. ‘Gone where with the others? What others?’

‘Other than Armstrong, everyone else in the crew has been shipped back to Tomintoul. No matter what Armstrong wants, it’s pretty certain that Enchantment is finished.’

‘Rampaging zombies are just a bit too much even for reality television?’

‘It appears so.’

I sniffed. After what had happened to Benjamin Alberts, they were lucky that no one else had died. Yet. All the same, it was a bit of a shame that my television career was probably over before it had barely started. I wondered if they’d use the footage of me after I died saving the world. I shouldn’t have played the bitchy role like Barry wanted me to; post-mortem montages of yours truly would be much more effective if I looked like I was a nice person. Oh well.

Then a thought struck me. ‘Wait a minute,’ I said slowly. ‘Everyone involved with Enchantment apart from Armstrong is back in Tomintoul?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then why did I see Mazza strolling around when I looked out of the window?’

Winter’s blue eyes darkened. ‘The runner?’

I nodded, feeling the sudden chill fingers of dread tap down my spine.

‘Where was he?’ There was a sudden urgent edge to Winter’s voice.

I tried to think. Pointing to the side, I drew an imaginary line. ‘He was walking from there over to there.’