‘Who is that?’

‘She’s got the museum at the head of the causeway, and what she doesn’t know herself she can always look up. There 217are photographs and newspapers going back years down there, as well as all the general displays.’

‘Mr Penrose isn’t here for a history lesson, Tom,’ the housekeeper said impatiently. ‘He’s got more important things to do than look for a needle in a haystack, and you know how Emily likes to talk. It’s you he wanted to see.’

‘Actually, that might be very useful,’ Penrose said, looking at his watch, ‘but first I need to know if there’s any chance at all of getting to the mainland? I know low tide isn’t for an hour or two yet, but is there anyone who would be prepared to take a boat across with me?’ Pendean looked doubtful. ‘I don’t want you to take any risks, but I really can’t stress how urgent this is.’

‘All right. I’ll take you, but I’ll need some help.’

‘Tom! It’s not safe!’

‘Let me talk to some men down in the village,’ Pendean said, ignoring his wife’s protestations. ‘If you can wait, the best thing might be to go for the causeway at the lowest point of the tide. We’ve done it before, with a few of us roped together, so if I can get a couple of volunteers, I’m happy to give it a go.’

‘Thank you,’ Penrose said gratefully. ‘Will you see what you can do now? And I’ll come down to the village with you and have a look at the museum.’

As they left the servants’ hall together, Penrose couldn’t help but feel guilty at how distressed the housekeeper seemed by her husband’s offer to risk a sea crossing. God forbid that anything should happen to them, he thought; the last thing the Mount needed today was another tragedy, especially one brought about by his own recklessness. He accepted the long oilskin jacket and boots that one of the footmen found for him, and was glad of their protection as he followed Pendean 218down the winding cobbled paths to the village. The wind caught at their heels and the early brightness of the day had long since disappeared, replaced by a light but insidious rain. He turned to look back at the castle, and offered a silent prayer of thanks that at least Richard Hartley’s body was no longer exposed to the elements.

The snow was entirely gone from the lower parts of the village. Even though the tide was on the wane, the water levels in the harbour were still high, and Penrose could tell from the seaweed and other debris along the front that the sea, at its worst, must have pounded against the most exposed line of houses, all of which now had boards and sandbags across their doors and windows. He parted company with Pendean by the graveyard, and crossed the narrow road to the museum on the corner. The ground floor was in darkness, so he knocked hard on the door and waited. When there was no answer, he went round to the side of the building to look for another, more private entrance, but there were only two sets of windows, which showed him nothing but a counter and a variety of packed display cases. Disappointed, he returned to the front door and tried again.