"Well, don't tell it to the whole of the town," recommended the rudest man in London.

"Yes, but joking apart, you know, why should anyone want to take a pot-shot at a butler? Respectable old blighter, been at the manor umpteen years. The thing just isn't done. I mean, I could think of a lot of people who might get shot - gangsters, and cabinet ministers, and all. that push — but not butlers. After all, why shoot a butler? Where's the point?"

"I've no idea," said Frank discouragingly.

"There isn't one," Anthony declared. "That's what makes the thing look so fishy. I'll tell you what,

Amberley; it's all very fine to read about mysteries, but in real life - no. Cut 'em right out."

"I will."

"Yes," said Anthony, suddenly gloomy. "But if you were staying at the manor you wouldn't be able to. The whole place is stiff with mystery."

"Oh?" said Frank. "Why?"

"Damned if I know. There isn't anything you could put your finger on, so to speak, but it's there all right. For one thing there's Brother Basil." He lowered his voice confidentially. "Between ourselves, he's a bit of a dud. I've got no time for him at all. Bit awkward as things are. If it weren't for Joan I don't mind telling you you wouldn't catch me staying at Norton Manor."

"Because of its mystery or because of its host?"

"Bit of both. Mind you, I don't say there's anything wrong with the house. It's the people in it. Like a lot of cats snooping round in the dark. Look here, don't repeat this, but it's an absolute fact that you can't do a darned thing but what you get the feeling that you are being watched. It's getting a bit on my nerves."

"Are you being watched?"

"I don't know. Shouldn't be surprised. Brother Basil's got a valet who's always popping up out of nowhere. Another one of the leftovers from the old regime. Now if he'd been murdered I shouldn't complain. Nasty piece of work, I think, and so does Joan, but Brother Basil likes the fellow."