“You think this is revenge for the death of her son? A son she gave up at birth? After all this time? But it doesn’t make sense.”

“What if something finally pushed her over the edge?” I asked. “What if blaming Tony and Jonquil and Belinda for Colin’s death has festered all these years, but recently something happened—” I broke off. “Tony was talking about selling up the house, turning it into a hotel and he said ‘She’ll have to go.’ She loved to snoop. What if she overheard this and having Belinda in the house was perfect for her?”

“This seems like a long shot to me, young lady.”

“The house is her life. She rules the roost here. If she was really going to have to leave—” I broke off. It would be in her interest to keep Rose in residence or she’d have no job.

He stared long and hard at me. “I hope you’re right about this, young woman.”

“I hope so too,” I said.

Chapter 32

OCTOBER 21

BACK AT TREWOMA, HOPEFULLY FOR THE LAST TIME!

We walked back to the motorcars. “It’s also possible that she killed the late Mrs. Summers,” I said, “but that would be hard to prove.”

“The one who fell over a cliff?”

“That’s right.”

“In revenge for letting her son die?”

I shrugged. “Partly. Maybe in revenge that she had had to give up her son and Jonquil had led the most privileged life with everything she wanted. Who knows what can fester in a lonely person’s mind?”

He looked at me long and hard. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“A big reader of crime novels, then?”

“No, Inspector. A big observer of crime,” I said. “And I do know what living in a dark and isolated house like this can do to the mind. I grew up in a castle in Scotland. Luckily I had a kind nanny.”

We reached the cars. He instructed his driver to turn around and drive slowly toward the house and told Belinda to stay well back. We did as we were told.

“Did he accept your story?” Belinda asked.

“Let’s just say he’s skeptical,” I replied. “But he’s willing to pursue it.”

The police car drew up outside the front steps. Inspector Watt got out. We parked farther away.

“Perhaps we should stay here, out of sight, until the inspector has questioned her,” I said.

“Are you joking? If she’s guilty she would have gladly let me go to the gallows. She’s a vile woman and I want to hear what she’s got to say for herself.”

We walked slowly forward as the inspector reached the foot of the steps. He had hardly started to ascend when the front door opened and Mrs. Mannering herself came out.