“All right, lead on. Which room is it in?”

My curiosity got the better of me. I slipped out of bed and opened my door just enough to peek out. The newly arrived inspector was a much younger man but life had not been kind to him. Either that or he had spent the evening being rather too merry at the local pub. He had large bags under his eyes and he was scowling as if it was an effort to see. His sandy hair was already thinning on top. Not an encouraging sight.

“The next room on your right, sir,” Constable Hood said and started to push the door open for him.

“Don’t touch the door, man,” the inspector barked. “There might be valuable fingerprints on it.”

“I expect there will be if people have gone in and out over the last hundred years,” the constable said with a chuckle. The inspector was not amused.

At that moment Mrs. Mannering came rushing down the hallway toward the two men. I stepped back hastily into my room as she went past.

“Inspector Purdy. How good of you to come at this time of night,” she said. “I am Mrs. Mannering, the housekeeper. I’m afraid Mrs. Summers was so overwrought at the death of her husband that I gave her a sleeping powder. But I will be of assistance in any way I can.”

“I don’t need assistance, thank you, madam. But I hope you’ve made sure that any evidence has not been tampered with?”

“Oh yes. Indeed I did. Nobody has entered that room since the young woman was found holding the murder weapon.”

“And where is she now?” the inspector asked.

“Her friend, Lady Georgiana Rannoch, sister of the duke, is looking after her in her own bedroom.”

“Sister of the duke, eh?” The inspector gave a slightly nervous cough now. “And is the young lady suspect also a titled person?”

“Not titled but of good family. Her grandmother was Lady Knott—”

“Not what?” he asked impatiently.

“No, that was her name. Lady Knott. With a K. A true lady of the old school. Used to own a house very close to Trewoma. Now deceased unfortunately.”

“I see.” The inspector sucked through his teeth. “In my opinion just because you’re highborn doesn’t mean you’re not capable of dirty deeds. I shall need to speak with both young ladies after I’ve viewed the scene of the murder.”

“It’s in here,” Mrs. Mannering said. “Nothing has been touched.”

I watched as he stepped into the room. “Oh my God,” I heard him exclaim. “And a young lady did this?”

“She was discovered clutching the knife, and her hands covered in blood,” Mrs. Mannering said.

“Mentally unstable, obviously. A lot of them are. Too much inbreeding. They probably won’t hang her but send her to one of those nice rest homes for batty aristocrats. And where is the murder weapon now?”