At Marlow she turned north and wound up into the beech-covered hills, marveling that in a few miles she seemed to have entered a hidden world, dark and leafy and far removed from the broad, peaceful expanse of the river below.

“What are the Chiltern Hundreds?” she asked the barman. “I’ve heard that phrase all my life and never knew what it meant.”

He set down a bottle he’d been wiping with a cloth and considered his answer. Approaching middle age, with dark, wavy, carefully groomed hair and the beginning of a belly, he seemed happy enough to pass the time chatting. The lounge was almost empty-a bit early for the regular Friday night customers, Gemma supposed-but cozy with a wood fire burning and comfortable tapestry-covered furniture. A buffet of cold pies, salads and cheeses stood at the bar’s end, and she eyed it with anticipation.

Thames Valley CID had certainly been up to the mark, booking her into the pub in Fingest and giving her precise directions. When she arrived she’d found a stack of reports waiting for her in her room, and having attended to them, she had only to enjoy her drink and wait for Kincaid.

“The Chiltern Hundreds, now,” said the barman, bringing Gemma sharply back to the present, “they used to divide counties up into Hundreds, each with its own court, and three of these in Buckinghamshire came to be known as the Chiltern Hundreds because they were in the Chiltern Hills. Stoke, Burnham and Desborough, to be exact.”

“Seems logical,” said Gemma, impressed. “And you’re very knowledgeable.”

“Bit of a local history buff in my spare time. I’m Tony, by the way.” He thrust a hand over the bar and Gemma shook it.

“Gemma.”

“All the Hundreds are obsolete now, but the Stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds is still a nominal office under the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the holding of which is the only reason one is allowed to resign from the House of Commons. A bit of jiggery-pokery, really, and probably the only reason the office still exists.” He smiled at her, showing strong, even, white teeth. “There, I’ve probably told you more than you ever wanted to know. Get you a refill?”