Relief caused Cecily to rush her words. “Thank you, Sam. I shall make arrangements to have the body collected by Charlie’s next of kin just as soon as Dr. Prestwick arrives. Now, if you’d like to have some refreshment in the kitchen, I’m sure Mrs. Chubb will oblige.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before the constable had spluttered his good-byes and disappeared out the door.

“Well,” Cecily murmured, “we do know how to get rid of him when needs be.” She turned to Madeline, expecting to see an answering smile, and instead, encountered an expression on her friend’s face she knew well. Madeline sat staring into space, her features transformed into stone.

Cecily sank down on her chair, knowing there was nothing she could do until Madeline came out of her trance. For long, anxious moments she waited, until Angelina, apparently unnerved by the tense silence, let out a howl of protest.

Madeline blinked, focused for a moment on Cecily’s face, then leaned over to pick up her squalling baby. “Hush, now, little one,” she murmured, rocking Angelina back and forth until the crying subsided.

“You saw something,” Cecily said, as peace was restored to the quiet room.

Reaching into the bag at her side, Madeline pulled out a soft cloth and dabbed at her daughter’s wet cheeks. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I did. I’m sorry, Cecily, but I’m afraid P.C. Northcott is wrong. Your footman’s death was no accident. He was murdered.”

CHAPTER 4

Cecily briefly closed her eyes. “I knew it. The moment Gertie walked into the room this morning I felt certain it would turn out to be murder. What did you see? Do you know what happened?”

Madeline straightened the baby’s bonnet, which had slid sideways over her face. “Not much that would be of help, I’m afraid. All I could see was the figure of a man standing on the roof, with his hands raised over his head. He was holding a gargoyle.”