Chapters (39)
- Cover
- TITLES BY RHYS BOWEN
- Dedication
- Foreword
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Yes, leave everything exactly as we found it.” There was a pause. “Right. I think that’s all we can do at this moment. Let’s go and have a cup of tea in the kitchen, then.”
I retreated to the top of the stairs so that it appeared I was just coming up as they emerged from Belinda’s room. The inspector raised a questioning eyebrow at me. “Did you want something, my lady?”
“I’m just retrieving my handkerchief from my bedroom, Inspector.”
“Your room is next door?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Do you mind if we take a look around?”
“By all means, Inspector,” I said. “Miss Warburton-Stoke had to share my room last night so you’ll find her fingerprints in there, but apart from that there is nothing of interest, I can assure you.”
“No matter. Just a routine check. And I’d like to test how easy it is to hear through the walls.”
I waited while they rummaged around in my room, then he sent a younger sergeant to speak, then shout in Belinda’s room. I was delighted to observe that they could hear nothing until the loudest shout.
“The walls are pretty darned thick here, aren’t they, sir?” the young sergeant said, returning.
“They seem to be,” the inspector admitted. He turned back to me. “We won’t trouble you any longer, my lady. We’re off for a cup of tea.”
I took a handkerchief from the top drawer, made as if I was straightening items they had moved during their search and as soon as they were safely far away, I slipped into Belinda’s room. The first thing that greeted me was a blast of cold air. The window was wide-open. That was interesting as I didn’t think Belinda was usually the hearty type who slept with her window open in bad weather—unlike my own experience growing up at Castle Rannoch where windows were open in blizzards. Tony’s body had now been covered with a white sheet. I could just make out the shape. I went over to the bed and lifted the sheet a little, shuddering at the sight of his body, so white and cold. His eyes had now been shut but his hair, apparently washed during his bath, had gone into attractive blond curls.