“I am so glad you returned, Inspector,” she said. “I took the liberty of packing a small overnight bag for Mrs. Summers. Her basic toiletries and nightwear.” Then she noticed Rose who had emerged from the vehicle. “Mrs. Summers? You are back. What has happened?”

“You are Alice Mannering?” The inspector stepped up to intercept her.

She looked surprised. “Yes, Alice is my Christian name. Why do you ask?”

“Mother of Colin? Colin Hucklebee?”

Her face had always looked white and featureless to me. Now she had gone even whiter, if that was possible. “Who told you about . . . ? How could you possibly know? Nobody knew.”

“We have our ways,” he said smoothly. “Suffice it to say that we know everything.”

“There is nothing to know.” She tossed her head defiantly. “I had a child. I had to give him up. But there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about him, wonder what he was doing, how he looked.”

“And then he came here. Right on your doorstep, so to speak,” the inspector said calmly. “That must have been hard for you—to have him so close and not be able to speak to him.”

The look she gave him was of pure defiance. “You have no idea what I have endured, Inspector. No idea at all.”

“But how did you find out the names of his adoptive parents? They normally keep them from the mother.”

“I hired a private detective,” she said, staring at him coldly. “I saved my stupid, hard-earned wages and I paid for him to find out. I used to visit the area in my summer holidays, just to catch glimpses of Colin. He turned into a lovely young man. His adoptive parents were so proud of him. Scholarship to the grammar school and talk of university.”

“Was it pure luck that he came down here?”

She looked at him with scorn. “Of course not. I sent his family the brochures. I quoted them a ridiculously low rate on a bungalow. I paid the rest myself. And they took the bait. They came.”

“Why did you want him down here? Just to see him a bit more?”

“I had a plan, Inspector,” she said. “If you know everything else, then you must know that his father was Mr. Trefusis, the master of this house.” I heard a tiny gasp come from Belinda. “I was a young, innocent housemaid. He took advantage of me. One does not refuse the master of the house, and it struck me that if I was a special favorite, maybe I’d get special treatment. Foolish notion, of course, but as I said, I was young and naïve.”