We scrubbed at the wall, then Belinda said, “So where was the other dagger hanging? Perhaps the person who stabbed Tony also touched the wall when they took it down.”

We searched the room but couldn’t find where the dagger had hung. Then we looked through the long gallery and drawing room and again there seemed to be no empty hook.

“So where could the murder weapon have been displayed?” Belinda asked. “If it wasn’t easily visible, how could anyone say that I found the dagger and stabbed Tony with it?”

“That will be a good point in your favor,” I said. “Now please come back to the morning room and don’t do anything else that could incriminate you.”

“You’re right,” Belinda said and allowed herself to be steered back to her armchair beside the fire.

Shortly afterward a young constable arrived and took our fingerprints. He seemed rather taken with Belinda, as were most men, and blushed when she smiled at him. If only the inspector was as influenced, she’d be all right. But my experience was that most inspectors were older men with no susceptibilities to pretty faces or long sexy legs. The morning dragged on and there was no sign of Rose. I began to wonder about that too. What if Rose was lying dead in her bed, if the killer had finished her off at the same time as Tony? I was tempted to go and ask Mrs. Mannering to check on her, but I didn’t feel like wandering around this house looking for the housekeeper. But I did find myself glancing across at Belinda. Seeing her standing there with the dagger in her hand and a strange look on her face had definitely shocked me and made me wonder. I thought I knew Belinda pretty well. We had slept side by side in the dorm room at school. We had had adventures together. But she had always been a free spirit, an opportunist, so different from me in so many ways. She had certainly had more than her share of men. But since she had had a baby and had to give it away she had become less sure of herself, more cautious, vowing to stay away from men. Was it possible that something inside her had snapped and when Tony came into her room, perhaps tried to force himself on her, she had taken revenge for the times she had been betrayed? I didn’t want to think that. I told myself that it was just the brooding atmosphere in this house that was making these strange thoughts pop into my head.