“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded close to breaking point. “Georgie, I swear. . . . He came into my room earlier tonight. He suggested he was getting tired of Rose and we could . . . get together again. But I told him no and he went off in a huff. I was a bit shaken up so I decided to have a lovely hot bath. When I came back everything was dark. I opened my door and I kicked something on the floor. I picked it up and it was all sticky and I turned on the light and it was this knife.” She was still holding it, staring at it in disbelief. “And then I saw him, on my bed, lying there. Dead.”

At that moment there were hurried footsteps. “What’s going on? Is something the matter?” a voice called and Mrs. Mannering appeared at the open door, wearing a dark blue dressing gown and with her hair in curlers. She stood breathing heavily as if she had just come running. Her gaze went from Belinda’s bloody hands to the bed. She opened her mouth as if to scream, then controlled herself, pointing at Tony’s corpse, her hand shaking. “Oh dear God. You’ve killed him,” she stammered. “Poor Mr. Summers. You’ve killed him. How could you?”

“I didn’t,” Belinda whimpered. “It wasn’t me. I found him here like this. I don’t know who did it.”

“Where is Rose?” I asked. I stepped out into the corridor but at that moment I saw her crossing the foyer down below.

“I can’t believe how long it took me to make cocoa,” Rose’s voice floated up the stairwell toward us as she started to come up the stairs with a mug of cocoa in her hand. “I couldn’t find the cocoa tin, then I found it in a tin marked Horlicks. Then I couldn’t get the wretched stove to light for hours. And then the blasted milk boiled over and I had to clean that up—” She broke off, as Mrs. Mannering came out of Belinda’s room. “Is something wrong? Has someone been taken ill? Is it Belinda?”

“Let us take that mug from you, Mrs. Summers.” Mrs. Mannering stepped out to intercept Rose. “I’m afraid you’re in for a nasty shock.”

She took the mug and handed it to me.

“What is it? What are you saying?” Rose gave her a questioning glance, then looked toward Belinda’s open door and started forward. Mrs. Mannering restrained her, then put her arm around Rose’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be very brave. Your husband has been . . .”