“I happen to know there is a whole row of costumes hanging in the attic,” I said. “I suggest you and I slip up there before the others and grab something.”

“Slip up to the attic and grab something. That sounds interesting.”

“Darcy!” I glared at him.

“My, but you’re testy today,” he said.

“Because I’m feeling really angry and frustrated that people are being killed and nobody is doing anything to stop it,” I said. “We have to help, Darcy. How many people will have to die otherwise before Scotland Yard sends someone down to take charge?”

“I suppose the point is that from what we can tell, we have no evidence that any of the deaths was a murder.”

“My grandfather says there is no such thing as coincidence. Do you really believe that so many accidents could happen in one small part of Dartmoor, with a death every day?”

“I agree it does sound far-fetched. Unless you believe in the Lovey Curse.”

“Do you?”

“Of course not.” He gave a half-embarrassed laugh. “But I’m dashed if I can see how these deaths have anything to do with each other. I mean to say, if you were going to kill a chap, would you wait until he was up a tree? And the man who pushed that garage owner off a bridge was most likely the wronged husband, not an outsider. And if someone turned on the gas to kill the old woman, it was probably one of her sisters, tired of being bossed around.”

“But what if it wasn’t? What if it was a clever killer with a motive we haven’t yet fathomed?”

He put an arm around my shoulder. “Georgie, think about it—do you really believe we can do anything that the local police can’t?”

I chewed on my lip, something I tend to do when I’m not sure of myself. “I just thought that if three of us put our heads together and looked at the sites in order, then something would occur to us.”

Darcy stared past me, out the window, then he pushed away his plate. “All right then. I’ll go find Monty.”

“We have to choose costumes first,” I said. “Come on. Let’s see if we can sneak up to the attic without being noticed.”

Darcy gave a reluctant sigh, then took my hand. We crept up several flights of stairs, each one less grand than the one before, until we reached a set of steep wooden steps to an attic. The place was illuminated only by the light coming in from some dormer windows, and items covered in dust sheets looked ominous in the darkness. Having grown up in a really spooky castle, I’m not normally afraid of such things, but the way they stirred in the draft we let in was unnerving and I was glad I had Darcy with me.