I watched her with appreciation. It was the first time I had heard her speak with confidence. They went up the stairs. We stood and waited inside the foyer. And waited. Just when I felt that they had been gone for a long time DI Watt said, “What can the woman be doing? She doesn’t strike me as the type who would spend a lot of time choosing her knickers.” He glanced at the constable waiting in the doorway. “You don’t suppose she’s given us the slip, do you? Gone out through the back door?”

“She didn’t come back down the hall, sir,” the constable said.

“What floor is she on?”

“I think the first floor.”

“Aren’t servants’ rooms usually on the top floor?” Belinda asked.

The inspector shot her a worried look. “Go and check she hasn’t come out of any back door, Williams.”

“Right you are, sir.”

“And we’d better see she hasn’t done herself any harm.” He started up the stairs. “Mrs. Summers, are you up here?”

He stood at the end of the first hallway, listening. Then he shook his head and started up the next flight. “Mrs. Summers?”

I don’t know what instinct drove me but I went down the hall toward Jonquil’s rooms. As I got closer I could hear hammering on a door, a muffled voice yelling “Help. Somebody help me.”

“Inspector!” I yelled. “This way.”

I tried the door. It was locked and no sign of the key. What’s more, I could smell smoke. I shouted again. The sergeant came running. He tried hurling himself into the door with his shoulder but it was good solid English oak and didn’t budge. Then he ran back down the hall and returned with a brass statue. “Stand back,” he shouted and rammed it against one of the panels. It splintered. Smoke poured out and Rose’s frightened face appeared. “Quick. Save me,” she begged.

It took several more blows with the statue before enough of the door was broken to drag her out. I saw then that Jonquil’s beautiful dresses were ablaze. So were the lace curtains.

“Where is she?” the sergeant shouted.

“I don’t know. I followed her in here. She was already holding the oil lamp. She threw it at the dresses and lit a match. Then she shoved me to the floor and ran out.”

I put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Where can she have gone? She didn’t come back toward us. Are there stairs at the end of this hall?”

“The servants’ staircase.”

We both ran down the hall to the end, to be greeted by more smoke. “What has she done?” Rose gasped. “Oh no.”

We emerged onto the minstrel gallery above the big hall. Fire was now burning up the tapestries and across the floor.