‘Wait a moment,’ said Skins. ‘You didn’t tell me about that. What happened?’

  ‘It was when I was playing the piano. He oiled up to me and put his clammy hand on my shoulder. Howard had to peel him off.’

  ‘You should have said something – I’d have given him what for.’

  ‘That’s precisely why I didn’t mention it, honey. No point in starting a fight over it. He’s not tried anything since.’

  ‘I’ll slosh him one if he does.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘What about Veronica?’

  ‘I’ll slosh her, too, if you really want me to, but I quite like her.’

  Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘As a suspect.’

  ‘Put her down as a yes,’ said Skins. ‘She’s as brainy as they come, so helping us could be a clever double bluff. She’s none too keen on the rest of her family and she doesn’t mind who knows it. Especially her old man – she really wasn’t a fan of his. I’d always put a tanner each way on the outsider.’

  ‘I thought you said you liked her?’

  ‘What can I say? I’m attracted to dangerous women.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Ellie with a frown. ‘I’m not so sure, but OK. Howard?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dunn. ‘Again, contingent on the will. If he’s not already been disinherited he’d want to kill his old man and get his share of the loot.’

  ‘Hetty Hollis?’

  Dunn shrugged. ‘Haven’t spoken to her yet.’

  ‘That’s a point,’ said Skins. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘I’ve not seen her since before lunch,’ said Ellie. ‘We can talk to her later. Staff?’

  Dunn shrugged again. ‘Could be any of them – who knows who he might have upset? Who even knows how many of them there are? It doesn’t seem like something they’d do, though. If your employer upsets you, you just leave, don’t you? I mean, you might put a couple of kippers in an air vent, but you’d just pack your bags and do a moonlight. You’d not stage an elaborate murder and then hang about.’

  ‘Fair enough. Valentine Baisley?’

  ‘No,’ said Dunn. ‘He’s not here, unless he’s hiding upstairs. He’d get one of his thugs to do it, anyway – and they’d definitely be too dim to stay out of sight this long.’

  ‘That’s everyone, I think,’ she said, closing her notebook.

  ‘Unless it was one of us,’ said Skins.

  ‘No motives,’ said Ellie. ‘And no opportunity – we know where we were the whole time.’

  Veronica had appeared at the doors behind them. Ellie couldn’t help wondering what, if anything, she’d overheard.

  ‘Ah, there you are. Do you want to continue our tour?’

  Veronica led them back through the salon and the library to the Grand Hall. From there, they went up the broad stone steps to the first landing, where she paused.

  ‘Left, I think,’ she said, after a moment’s thought.

  They trailed up after her.

  ‘We can start at my room. All the others are broadly the same save for decoration and whatnot, so it’ll give you an idea.’

  They turned right at the top of the second flight of stairs.

  ‘On the left is another of our secret staircase doors – that one leads upstairs to the second floor as well as back down to the secret door outside the dining room. The main staircase for guests is over on the other side.’

  ‘What’s up on the . . . second floor?’ asked Ellie. She still sometimes struggled with the English custom of naming their floors from zero. Surely, she thought, the first floor you walked into was the first floor. Not here. The first floor was the ground floor. Which made the second floor the first floor. Still, she should think herself lucky they didn’t go all nautical and call it the orlop floor, or the quarter floor.

  ‘Guest bedrooms. The layout is much the same as down here.’

  ‘Or the poop floor,’ said Ellie out loud.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘End of a conversation in my head. Ignore me. Actually, I did know what was upstairs – Howard told us earlier. I’m sorry.’

  Veronica frowned quizzically. ‘Righto. Then there are servants’ quarters and storage on the attic floor,’ she said. ‘We’ll see it in a minute.’

  She reached for the handle of a conventional door in the corner next to the secret door.

  ‘Welcome to my humble abode. It’s not much, but it’s home.’

  The three friends were reluctant to invade the young woman’s bedroom, so they peered in through the door. There was a bed, a chest of drawers, a dressing table and a large wardrobe. The furniture was elegant without being extravagantly “antique”. A large window looked out on to the parkland at the rear of the house. Veronica, it seemed, was a tidy person and there was little clutter.

  ‘The one concession Papa made to modern living was to provide each bedroom with its own bathroom,’ she said. ‘The alterations meant we lost a few guest rooms, but we’re not part of the “country house weekend” set, so we never have many guests anyway. And it’s such a joy not to have to share. It’s over there on the left.’

  Leaning in through the doorway, they could just about see another door in the corner of the room and took her word for it that it led to a bathroom.

  ‘Swanky,’ said Skins.

  ‘It’s not a bad place to live, certainly,’ said Veronica. ‘Most of the bedrooms are the same – there’s just a little variation in size.’

  She closed the door and led them clockwise around the gallery. There were doors to their left, and to the right a view of the Grand Hall over an ornate balustrade.

  ‘Next to mine is Howard’s – his room’s a little smaller, which pleases me more than it ought.’ She walked on. ‘Then there’s a view of the glass roof of the salon and the park beyond. And then a guest room where Peter stays when he’s here. Which seems to be most of the time. It’s a mirror of Howie’s room, and Boring Betty has the room in the other corner, which is a mirror of mine. And that bothers her more than it ought – she thinks she should have a larger room.’

  She turned the corner.

  ‘That’s the concealed door for the secret stairs back down to the door outside the library, and the main staircase up to the guest rooms above us.’

  She led them on past the other arm of the main staircase and along the gallery.

  ‘Gordon and Charlotte are in here,’ she said, indicating a door about halfway along. ‘With Papa and Marianne next door. Theirs is more like a suite – they have room for a sofa and chairs.’

  Huge windows formed the far wall of the gallery, looking out across the entrance hall on to the drive. They crossed to the other side of the house and Veronica resumed her guided tour.

  ‘Uncle Malcolm has the suite on this side. He often sits up here if he wants to be alone. Then there’s a bathroom—’

  ‘Where Katy and I got changed for the party,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Ah, of course. And finally another guest room. Hetty Hollis has been staying here. Hello, she’s left her door open.’

  She knocked on the door. ‘Hetty? Are you in there?’

  There was no reply. Veronica opened the door a little wider and peered in.

  ‘Hetty?’

  She turned back to the friends.

  ‘I think she’s on the floor by the other side of the bed. I can just see her shoes.’

  Ellie pushed past and entered the room.

  ‘Miss Hollis?’ she said. ‘Hetty?’

  As the others followed her in, she knelt down beside the bed.

  ‘Don’t touch anything,’ she said. ‘She’s dead.’

  Chapter Nine

  Veronica hurried to the other side of the bed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ said Ellie calmly.

  ‘Any signs of foul play?’ asked Dunn.

  ‘Nothing obvious, but don’t touch that glass of Scotch on the bedside table – it could be poisoned.’

  Veronica put her hand to her mouth. ‘Poisoned? So we have two killers?’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Dunn.

  ‘Well, killers stick to one method – everyone knows that. It’s in all the stories. And Papa was shot.’

  ‘He was drugged first,’ said Ellie. ‘There was something in his Scotch – I guessed Veronal but the police will be able to test it – to knock John out and make it easier to stage the fake suicide. But an overdose can be fatal, and if the killer had access to a supply of Veronal to drug John, they might have had enough to kill poor Hetty.’

  ‘But if it is poison, she might have taken it herself,’ said Veronica, as though she were trying to wish away the possibility of two murders.

  ‘Easy enough to check,’ said Dunn.

  He scanned the bedside table and found only a book and a travel clock. Hetty’s clothes hung in the wardrobe, with several items, including an impressive selection of shoes, on the shelves. He looked through them and then took down the suitcase from the top. He found nothing he wasn’t expecting to see. Hetty’s make-up case and spongebag were in the bathroom and they, too, yielded nothing out of the ordinary.

  ‘No sign of any other pills,’ he said. ‘I can’t see anything she might have kept them in, either. Unless she was carrying drugs loose in her pockets, anything in the Scotch glass that isn’t whisky was brought in by someone else.’

  Ellie stood. ‘Obviously it could be natural causes, but she’s a fit and healthy young woman in the prime of life. There are no obvious signs of a heart attack, but that doesn’t prove anything. And there are any number of other things that might have killed her – a brain aneurism, perhaps.’

  ‘It’s certainly suspicious, though,’ said Skins. ‘One death in a house is rare. Two in the same house in the same weekend . . . there’s got to be something going on.’

  ‘Whatever happened, it was recent and quick,’ said Dunn. ‘She was with us in the chapel, but she didn’t show up for lunch.’

  ‘Was anyone other than us late for lunch, I wonder?’ said Ellie. ‘Can you ask around, Veronica?’

  ‘I’ll try to think of a way to make it sound like an innocent enquiry.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But we really need the police here now,’ said Veronica, looking pale. ‘There’s a murderer in the family. My family. They killed Papa, now possibly poor Henrietta—’

  ‘Who?’ said Skins.

  Dunn rolled his eyes. ‘What did you think Hetty was short for, mate?’

  ‘Oh, right. But without the phone, and without a way to get on or off the estate, there’s no one coming, I’m afraid.’

  ‘There’s not,’ said Ellie. ‘Gordon says the roads are still impassable. That’s why it’s up to us. Will Gordon start investigating, do you think? Start trying to figure it out?’

  ‘No,’ said Veronica. ‘He won’t believe it’s murder. And even if he does, he’ll fuss and bluster and tell us all to wait for the police.’

  ‘What about the others? Anyone else fancy themselves as an amateur detective?’

  ‘Oddly enough, it’s not the sort of thing that comes up in family discussions.’

  ‘No, of course not. Sorry. We’ve got to tell everyone, though.’

  Ellie put an arm around Veronica as they filed out of the room. It was obvious that she was shaken and, like them, wondering who in the poisonous Bilverton family was capable of murder.

  They found Gordon sitting alone in the drawing room.

  ‘Oh, dear Lord,’ he said when Ellie explained what they had found. ‘Not another thing to deal with.’

  ‘I do think you could be a little more sensitive about it, Gordon,’ said Veronica, visibly upset. ‘Someone has died. Another murder. In our house.’

  ‘What do you mean, “another murder”?’

  ‘First Papa, now Hetty.’

  ‘Don’t talk such rot, Ronnie, you utter fathead. Father killed himself and Hetty collapsed.’

  ‘Have it your way, brother dear. But there’s a woman’s body in the guest bedroom on the first floor, and since you’re so keen on taking charge I shall leave you to sort it out.’

  She stomped out of the room, leaving the three friends to offer Gordon embarrassed shrugs and trail after her.

  They stood in the Grand Hall for a few moments, trying to decide what to do next.

  ‘We ought to get back down to the chapel and tell the others,’ said Dunn.

  ‘And I could do with joining in the card game,’ said Skins. ‘I need something to clear my head.’

  They set off towards the library and their footsteps echoed loudly around the hall. Suddenly, Ellie motioned for them to stop. She listened intently for a few seconds.

  ‘You boys go on to your card game. I want to check on something.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Skins.

  ‘Can’t you hear?’

  ‘After a lifetime of drumming, I’m lucky I can hear you, never mind anything else.’

  ‘Can’t you hear it, Barty?’

  Dunn shook his head. ‘After a lifetime of standing next to this wiry idiot while he plays the drums, I’m even luckier that I can hear anything at all.’

  ‘Well, why don’t you two old fellas toddle off back to the chapel for a nice sit-down, and I’ll find out what the noise is.’

  Skins and Dunn obediently set off for the studio while Ellie turned towards the source of the noise that had caught her attention. She paused at the door to the garden parlour and listened again. It was a woman crying.

  Without knocking, she gently opened the door and stepped in. Marianne started, and hurriedly wiped her eyes with her handkerchief.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Ellie, ‘I had no idea there was anyone in here. Am I disturbing you?’

  ‘No,’ said Marianne, ‘it’s quite all right. Please come in. It’s lovely in here in the afternoon, don’t you think?’

  Ellie approached the sofa and looked out through the large windows into the walled garden.

  ‘It is,’ she said. ‘I don’t quite understand why the family doesn’t like it.’

  ‘Nor do I. It’s my favourite room.’

  Ellie turned and looked down at Marianne. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, are you OK? You look as though you’ve been crying.’

  Marianne sniffed. ‘I’m fine, thank you. Things have just suddenly got on top of me, that’s all.’

  ‘I can understand that. Can I get you anything?’

  ‘What? Oh, no, thank you. You’re very kind.’

  Ellie smiled. ‘I should leave you in peace – I don’t like to intrude.’

  ‘No, please stay. It would be nice to talk to someone who isn’t a Bilverton.’

  Ellie sat at the other end of the sofa. ‘I noticed the way they treat you.’

  ‘I can sort of understand it, I suppose. I’m only nine months older than Gordon, after all. I was his father’s secretary, and then suddenly one day I was his stepmother.’

  ‘Being a stepmother of any age must be hard, I’d have thought.’

  ‘I’ve always imagined so. It might be easier if the children are young, but this lot were all adults. Well, nearly – Howard was nineteen by the time John and I married, but that’s not far off. The upshot is that they’ve never really thought very highly of me. I’m a gold-digger, obviously. And a scarlet woman – it wasn’t hard to work out that I must have been having an affair with John while their mother was still alive. But I loved him, you see? Even when I found out he was sleeping with Charlotte.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I’m not naive. He had an affair with me while he was married to Christina, after all. But I’d always hoped . . . It sounds as stupid now as it was then, but I’d always hoped that maybe . . . maybe I would be enough.’ She swallowed a sob. ‘Eventually I just stopped noticing . . . the lipstick marks, the late nights. The perfume on his shirts. I turned a blind eye. I wasn’t happy about it, not at all, but I never stopped loving him. And that made it worse, of course.’

  ‘Worse? How so?’

  ‘Instead of storming out like a betrayed wife, I stuck with him. That confirmed the gold-digger theory, didn’t it? I must be in it for the money if I stayed after that.’

  ‘Did they really think that?’

  ‘They’ve always thought that. I was John’s secretary so I’m not “one of them”. Which meant, of course, I was only with him because I wanted the big house and the fancy frocks. They couldn’t imagine it any other way.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘I’m used to it. Look, you don’t mind me talking like this, do you? I just needed to get it all out.’

  ‘You go right ahead. We’re not so afraid of personal stuff as you English.’

  ‘Ah, of course. Are you American? Or Canadian?’

  ‘American. From Maryland.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know where that is. Is it nice?’

  ‘It is, actually, yes. Beautiful.’

  ‘Don’t you get homesick?’

  ‘Not any more. I served as a nurse in France during the war and I felt it terribly there, but London is my home now.’

  ‘Good heavens. That was brave.’

  ‘Going to France? Perhaps. Or foolhardy. I was chasing a man.’

  Marianne laughed for the first time. ‘Did you catch him?’

  ‘I married him.’

  ‘Ah, yes, you’re married to one of the musicians, aren’t you? The tall one or the short one?’

  It was Ellie’s turn to laugh. ‘The short one.’

  ‘I can see the appeal.’

  ‘He was worth chasing halfway round the world for.’

  ‘He seems like a nice fellow. They all do, though. We often have musicians down in the chapel with Malcolm and they’re not always as pleasant as your lot.’

  ‘Are they not?’

  ‘Not always, no. Some of them are a bit . . . dodgy. But Malcolm doesn’t seem to mind. How are you all getting on with him?’

  ‘He seems like a nice fellow, too.’

  Marianne smiled and then nodded towards Ellie’s elegant dress. ‘Do musicians earn a lot?’

  ‘They get by.’

  ‘That’s a lovely frock, though. Am I right in guessing that you come from money, too? You’d fit in round here, at least.’

  ‘My family is wealthy, yes. I don’t inherit for a while yet – there was a weird clause in my father’s will. It’s complicated.’