“And of course it makes sense, now that we think of it,” Granddad went on cheerfully. “She roams all over the moors, doesn’t she? And she’s clearly quite crackers. Probably didn’t even care who she was bumping off. Probably hears voices or something like that. They often do, don’t they? Well, at least the inspector can breathe easier now, and it won’t even go to trial. She’ll be sent off to an asylum, poor thing.”

We walked on, past the village shop, which was open again today and doing a good trade in newspapers and cigarettes, and past the pub, where a group of local people were standing gossiping, presumably about the arrest of Wild Sal. They looked up warily as we walked past.

“I’m glad it turned out to be a mad person,” Granddad said, “because I couldn’t for the life of me find any link between the people who had died and the way they were killed. It didn’t tie in with any case I’d ever worked on in my long years with the force.”

“You’re walking quite fast,” I said. “The country air is making you a lot better.”

“You’re right, it is,” he agreed.

“You should think of moving down here. Get a little cottage in a village like this.”

“Oh, no, ducks. Wouldn’t suit me at all,” he said. “I’m from the Smoke. Born and bred. I know where I belong.”

I looked at him with concern, realizing how much I loved him and relied on him. In fact, he was the only person in the world I could rely on—certainly not my flighty, self-centered mother, or even Darcy, who was never around for more than two minutes. Why would Granddad want to go back to London where the air was so bad for his chest and could lead to an early grave? I tried to dispel gloomy thoughts. He was here with me now and we were enjoying ourselves. That was all that mattered.

By the time we came back to the cottage there were wonderful smells coming from the kitchen and Mrs. Huggins’s head poked out. “I’ve some sausage rolls in the oven if you need a bite to eat before your meal,” she said. “The gentleman upstairs is particularly fond of my sausage rolls. He told me I was a dab hand with pastry, and of course he’s right. I’ve always had a way with pastry, ain’t I, Albert?”

“You have, my dear,” he said.

She smiled at him fondly.

Mummy and Mr. Coward came down to join us for wine and sausage rolls. Mummy had changed into a skirt and cashmere jumper, but Noel was still in his dressing gown.

“I made another of your favorites, Mr. Coward. A steak and kidney pie,” Mrs. Huggins said.