“Oh, well, that’s all right, then, ain’t it?” A beam spread across her round red face. I wished I could be as easily satisfied as she was.

I came into the breakfast room to find Darcy sitting alone at one end of the table while the Rathbones and Upthorpes were busy working their way through enormous piles of kedgeree at the other. I slid into a seat beside him and he looked up, smiling. “Good morning,” he said.

“Do you think you could possibly borrow Monty’s motorcar today?”

“You want to escape for a tryst?” he asked, his eyes teasing me.

I lowered my voice even though the distance between us and the other diners was considerable. “No, I want to help solve this ridiculous business before any more people are killed.”

He looked surprised and a trifle amused. “You are suddenly turning into the Sherlock Holmes of Rannoch, are you?”

“Darcy, be serious, please. The local detective inspector is a nice enough man but he’s quite out of his depth. You know a thing or two about questioning people and judging who might be lying, and my grandfather—well, he’s dealt with all kinds of gruesome cases during his years on the force. So I thought we might at least take a look for ourselves at the sites where these things happened.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my aunt’s right-hand woman? Are you allowed to vanish for a day when you should be running skittles tournaments and things?”

I regarded him frostily. “You sound as if you don’t want to come with me. Fine, if you don’t want a chance for us to spend time together . . .” I began to stand up. He grabbed my arm to hold me back.

“Don’t be silly. You know very well that I’d love any chance to spend time with you. It’s just that I’m not sure we should interfere in local police business. We don’t know the people or the territory. I can’t see how we can be of any use whatsoever.”

“Darcy, you haven’t spoken with Inspector Newcombe. I have. He admits that he is flummoxed. He’s been popping in on my grandfather asking for advice every two seconds. Of course he wants help, and if my grandfather had somebody to motor him around he might be able to solve this.”

“Very well,” he said, looking around as if trying to make up his mind. “I suppose I could ask Monty, but I’m none too sure about the lay of the land around here.”

“There are such things as maps,” I said. “I’ll ask Sir Oswald for one.”

“So what are we going to do about this fancy dress ball if we’re gone all day? Aren’t we supposed to be creating costumes?”