“That’s Tom Mogworthy. I inherited him after I bought the Manor. He’d worked as gardener here for thirty years. He comes from an old Dorset family and regards himself as an expert on the history, traditions and folklore of the county, the bloodier the better. Actually, his father moved to London’s East End before Mog was born, and he was thirty before he returned to what he sees as his roots. In some ways he’s more of a cockney than a countryman. As far as I know, he’s displayed no murderous tendencies, and if one discounts headless horsemen, witches’ curses and the ghostly armies of marching Royalists, he’s truthful and reliable. He lives with his sister in the village. Marcus Westhall and his sister occupy Stone Cottage, which is part of the Manor estate.”

Dalgliesh said, “And Rhoda Gradwyn. How did she come to be a patient?”

“I first saw her in Harley Street on the twenty-first of November. She wasn’t referred by her GP, as is general, but I had a word with him. She came for the removal of a deep scar on her left cheek. I saw her once at St. Angela’s Hospital, where she underwent tests, and briefly when she arrived on Thursday afternoon. She was also here on the twenty-seventh of November for a preliminary visit and stayed for two nights, but we didn’t meet on that occasion. I’d never met her before she came to Harley Street and have no idea why she chose the Manor. I assumed she had checked on the reputation of cosmetic surgeons and, given a choice of London or Dorset, chose the Manor because she wanted privacy. I know nothing about her except her reputation as a journalist and, of course, her medical history. At our first interview I found her very calm, very straightforward, very clear about what she wanted. One thing was interesting. I asked her why she had waited so long to get rid of the disfigurement and why now. She replied, ‘Because I no longer have need of it.’ ”

There was a silence; then Dalgliesh said, “I have to ask you this. Have you any idea who is responsible for Miss Gradwyn’s death? If you have suspicions, or if there is anything I should know, please tell me now.”

“So you’re assuming that this is what you no doubt call an inside job?”

“I’m assuming nothing. But Rhoda Gradwyn was your patient, killed in your house.”

“But not by one of my staff. I don’t employ homicidal maniacs.”

Dalgliesh said, “I doubt very much whether this is the work of a maniac, nor am I assuming that a member of your staff was responsible.” He went on, “Would Miss Gradwyn have been physically capable of leaving her room and taking the lift to the ground floor to unlock the door of the west wing?”