This time Gertie barely waited for a summons before opening the door. After bowing her head at Cecily, she carried the tray over to Northcott as if she were bearing a crown for the king.

Aware of the disdain the maids felt toward the inept constable, Cecily pursed her lips and hoped her chief housemaid wouldn’t show him any disrespect in her presence. For then she’d be forced to reprimand Gertie in front of him.

To her relief, Gertie offered the brandy without comment and, apart from an overly enthusiastic curtsey when he took the glass, left the room without offending the man.

Nevertheless, Northcott had to resort to mopping his brow with his handkerchief before continuing. “H’anyway, as I was saying, as you know, Mrs. B., me and the missus always go away for the Christmas season. Well, not always, since we didn’t go last year, what with the in-laws coming here for a change. Blinking disaster that were, too, m’m, if you’ll pardon the h’expression.”

“Yes, yes,” Cecily said, finally succumbing to impatience. “Do get on with it, Sam. Why are you here?”

“I’m coming to that, aren’t I.” Sam fidgeted for a moment or two. “The inspector is tied up with some important job at Scotland Yard and wants me to take care of this case. He says as how I can’t leave Badgers End until the killer is h’apprehended.”

“I see,” Cecily said yet again. Now she was, indeed, beginning to understand, and she didn’t like what she was afraid was coming.

“Well, me and the other constables have been looking into it, and so far we’ve come up with nothing. If I don’t find the killer in the next few days, I’m going to have to tell the missus that I can’t go to London with her. She’s going to raise merry hell if I do that.”

“Yes,” Cecily murmured. “I suppose she might.”