“Oh, absolutely; he was a young soldier in the Great War, you know. He told me how they were trained to run a bayonet through somebody and fight in close combat. He boasted about sneaking up behind a German and slitting his throat.”

“But that was war. Lots of men had to do things that were not really part of their nature because they were commanded to.”

“I think it might be his nature to do anything to get what he wants,” Belinda said. “My grandmother said he was a difficult child, prone to fits of temper and that he would lie smoothly to get out of trouble. Quite the opposite from my mother, who was the sweetest, gentlest person in the world.” She gave a shuddering sigh. “My father probably won’t do anything to help me. He might care but the wicked witch will tell him I’m not worth bothering with.” I heard her voice tremble.

“Surely not, and anyway, it’s all going to be sorted out very soon,” I said. “Now drink that brandy and I’m going to tuck you up in my bed.”

She gave me a watery smile. I smiled back, trying to seem more confident than I felt. Because in truth I did think that things looked very bleak for her and I had no idea how we would prove that she was not the murderer. Oh, Darcy, I thought, I wish you were here. You’d know what to do.

Chapter 16

OCTOBER 17

TREWOMA, WHERE THE MOST UNBELIEVABLY HORRIBLE THING HAS HAPPENED. I HOPE THE POLICE CAN SORT THIS OUT. POOR BELINDA.

A loud hammering at the front door announced the arrival of the local police constable.

“So you’re sure you’ve got a murder here, and not just a nasty accident?” I heard him saying in his broad Cornish accent as he came up the stairs. “Or is it possible that the young gentleman took his own life?”

“It was clearly not an accident.” This was Mrs. Mannering’s voice. “One does not run into a sharp dagger while lying on a bed. And also he could hardly have stabbed himself to death and then thrown the knife across the room. Besides, the young female guest was found still holding the knife, with blood on her hands.”