He started to cough; she passed him a napkin. He spat into it and she saw blood. 'Should I get the doctor?'

'He's calling in later. Not that it'll make any difference.' He gave her a ghastly smile. 'That's it then, now you know. I'd better lie down.'

He rose, picked up the stick and walked slowly into the hall. 'I'm sorry, Helen, desperately sorry.'

'It's not your fault, Tony.'

He heaved himself up the stairs and she watched him go. Hedley appeared behind her, holding the file. 'I figured you'd want this.'

'I surely do.' She took it from him. 'Let's move on, Hedley. There's only death here.'

Back in the Mercedes, as they drove through the narrow lanes, she read through the file, every detail, every photo. Strangely enough, she dwelt on Sean Dillon longer than anyone: the fair hair, the self-containment, the look of a man who had found life a bad joke. She closed the file and leaned back.

'You okay, Lady Helen?' Hedley asked.

'Oh, fine. You can read the file yourself when we're back at South Audley Street.'

She felt a flutter in her chest, opened her purse, shook two pills into her hand, and swallowed them. 'Whiskey, please, Hedley,' she said.

He passed back the silver flask. 'What's going on? Are you okay?'

'Just some pills the doctor gave me.' She leaned back and closed her eyes. 'No big deal. Just get me to South Audley Street.'

But Hedley didn't believe her for a moment and drove on, his face troubled.

Chapter Two

At South Audley Street, she sat in the study and worked her way through the file again, studying the text, the photos.