Inspector Newcombe was staring at me, frowning. “If that’s the case then we’re looking at a deliberate act of malice, if not of murder.”

I nodded. “I fear so,” I said.

He gave a deep sigh. “Until now I kept telling myself that these deaths were just an unfortunate string of accidents. But now I had better face facts and admit that there is either a deranged killer or a clever one, or both, operating on my turf. And I’m buggered—I mean, I’m dashed—if I can understand what the motive could be.”

I paused before I said, “You don’t possibly think that Wild Sal might have had anything to do with it, do you? She stopped me from going where the master had gone. Did she know that there was a trip wire waiting for me?”

The inspector brightened up considerably. “You know, you may be right. There’s one thing I’ve just remembered. I went to look at the place where that van drove off the road yesterday—and I did see some footprints in the snow nearby. Bare feet, they were. And I commented to the lads and one of them said, “Oh, that’s just the crazy woman who lives in Tiddleton. She runs around barefoot all year.” He paused as his brain processed the next step. “And you say she stepped out right in front of your horse? What if she stepped out right in front of that van? He’d swerve to avoid her and on that icy road he’d plunge straight down into the river, wouldn’t he?”

“In which case I should mention one more thing, or rather two more things,” I said. “The first time I met her, she gave me a sinister warning. She told me to watch my step or I’d come a cropper. I took it to mean slipping in the snow, but it could have been more than that. She could have been warning me to keep my nose out of her business. And one of the Misses Ffrench-Finch told me that she’d found out that Sal came to their kitchen door on the night their sister died. She was asking for food and the cook felt sorry for her and let her in. Maybe she had a chance to slip upstairs and turn on the gas then.”

The inspector got to his feet. “Right you are. You’ve put my mind at rest, Lady Georgiana. A good little head on your shoulders, that’s what you’ve got. Well, I’m off right now to find that woman and bring her in. Then finally I may be able to have one peaceful day with my family over Christmas.”

He left with an almost jaunty spring to his step. I didn’t feel so jaunty; in fact, I felt sick inside. Had I just condemned Wild Sal on entirely circumstantial evidence?