He bent closer. She was young – perhaps thirteen or fourteen. Her skin was naturally very pale but her cheeks were red, almost purple. Her eyes were open and her lips widely parted. He held the candle nearer. There was froth on the lips, and a trickle of vomit at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes protruded from their sockets.

‘God damn it.’

‘It is such a waste,’ Mrs Phear said. ‘And I believe she was really a virgin, too.’

‘The little bitch. Was ever anything so unlucky? What happened?’

The woman shrugged. ‘I made her ready for him. I went up to the house for more candles, and she asked me to put a nut or two in her mouth before I went. And when I came back she was as you see her. She’s still warm.’

Jesus straightened up, though his eyes lingered on the girl’s face. ‘It’s as if someone smothered her.’ He looked quickly around the room.

‘I locked the door behind me,’ Mrs Phear said in a flat voice. ‘She choked on a nut, that’s all. The footboy was in the lobby all the time and saw no one. Is he trustworthy?’

‘He’s nothing but a child. He heard nothing?’

‘The walls are thick.’

Candle in hand, Jesus moved about the room. Mrs Phear waited, with hands folded and eyes cast down.

He pointed at the ceiling, to the great room above. ‘I cannot afford to disappoint Frank Oldershaw. Not him of all people.’

‘I suppose he would not take the girl like that?’

‘What? Dead?’ He stared at Mrs Phear.

‘I told you, she’s still warm.’

‘Of course he would not.’

‘But would he notice?’

‘Dear God, ma’am, yes – I think he would. He’s not so far gone. Besides, that’s where the sport of it is for them, the struggle. Believe me, that’s what they brag about afterwards in their cups. That and the blood on the sheet.’

‘Are you sure it cannot be contrived?’