She gave me a smile—the first attempt at a smile I had seen from her, and a little nod of a bow before she went out. Almost immediately a footman and maid appeared, each carrying trays. On the tray was a bowl of thick vegetable soup, a plate of ham, pork pie, a wedge of cheese, a small dish of pickled cabbage and several slices of bread. Mrs. Mannering followed, carrying a bottle of white wine and two glasses. She poured us a glass each without waiting to ask and placed them on the low table in front of the sofa. Then she left.

Belinda toyed with the soup while I’m afraid I tucked in with gusto. “It’s very good,” I said. “And the pork pie is delicious. And this pickled cabbage.”

“I just can’t swallow,” she replied. “I’m so scared, Georgie.”

“I’m sure it will be all right.” I reached across to pat her hand. “Do try at least a few sips of soup. You need to keep your strength up.”

She brought a spoon to her mouth. After two or three attempts she put down the bowl.

“At least have the wine and cheese,” I said.

“If I drink the wine, they’ll think I have an alcohol problem and that I was intoxicated last night.”

“Of course they won’t. And you drank exactly the same amount as the rest of us. I’ll tell them that.”

“Except for Tony,” Belinda said. “He drank more, didn’t he? He had several brandies after dinner.”

“He did,” I agreed.

I toyed with this thought as I ate in silence. Tony was definitely tipsy by the end of the evening. Had that fact made it easier for someone to kill him? Had he, in fact, passed out on Belinda’s bed? Not that this would make it any better for Belinda—just explain how easily she could have stabbed him to death. I suddenly experienced what she was feeling, that I could not swallow another morsel. One of the maids appeared with another tray, this one with dishes of blancmange and stewed apple. Both of us managed those quite nicely. We had moved on to coffee when Mrs. Mannering appeared again.

“The inspector would now like to speak to both of you young ladies. He suggested speaking to you in the library but I pointed out that the fire is not normally lit in the library during the evening and it might feel rather cold for all of you. So he said he will come in here instead.”

“What is he like, Mrs. Mannering?” Belinda asked. “Is he terrifying?”

“He seemed a most mild-mannered man, Miss Warburton-Stoke. Quiet in his speech. Thoughtful. Observant. No, I do not think you will find him a bullying type of policeman. His name is Detective Inspector Watt, by the way.”

“What?” Belinda asked.

“Yes.”

Mrs. Mannering gave a little nod and left us.