‘It’ll be in the Murder Spiral,’ Posy said.

‘The circular garden at the back of the house?’ Rosalind asked.

Posy nodded. ‘Kit and I were stationed there yesterday during the murder mystery. Apparently it has every poisonous plant Lettice ever used in any of her novels planted there.’

‘Well, that sounds like a remarkably stupid idea.’ Rosalind sniffed, and reached for a mini croissant.

‘Were the plants labelled?’ Caro asked, thinking. ‘If they were, we could find out what this plant looks like, at least. Heck, but I miss the internet.’

‘I reckon Dahlia would have solved half her mysteries a damn sight quicker if she’d had a smart phone,’ Rosalind agreed.

Smart phones. What was Caro forgetting about phones? She followed the thought back through the last twenty-four hours, and found what she was looking for. Posy had told them she was supposed to be getting her phone back from Clementine.

An investigative mind at work was a glorious thing. ‘Still no sign of Clementine returning this morning?’ she asked Posy, enjoying Rosalind’s look of confusion at the apparent non-sequitur. Not everyone was built to be a detective.

‘Not that I’ve seen.’ Posy pulled a face. ‘The convention must be in chaos with her and Marcus gone.’

Down on the grass below, the group of waistcoated volunteers was getting larger and louder. Had anyone told them that Marcus was dead?

‘Looks like it.’ Caro moved to the edge of the terrace and looked down at the growing throng of volunteers.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Hugh shut down the whole thing,’ Rosalind said.

‘No.’ Caro spun back to face the table. ‘We can’t let that happen.’

‘Why not?’ Rosalind asked, with an elegant shrug. ‘Would get us out of this bloody panel later.’

‘Because someone here could still be planning on blackmailing us,’ Posy pointed out. ‘Probably the same person who is trying to frame me for theft, and is responsible for murdering Marcus. We can’t let anyone leave until we figure out what’s going on.’

‘And make sure it isn’t going to come back to bite us,’ Caro agreed. ‘Well, if we want to keep this show on the road someone is going to have to take charge. And it doesn’t look like it’ll be Hugh or Isobel.’

Her gaze swept across the terrace. The fans were still talking quietly over coffees, but none of the Davenports had deigned to join them for breakfast. Unless … Caro beamed at the sight of a blonde head bobbing across the lawn below.

‘Juliette!’ The young woman looked up, and Caro beckoned wildly from the terrace until she hopped up the steps to join them. ‘Pull up a chair.’