That was a sensible plan.

Phyllida clambered to her feet. Her legs wobbled; she still felt woozy. She was about to turn away when the hat on the table beyond Horatio's body caught her eye.

Had the stranger carried a hat when he'd entered? She hadn't noticed it, but he was so large, he could have reached forward and put it on the table without her seeing.

Gentlemen's hats often had their owners' names embroidered on the inside band. Stepping around Horatio's body, Phyllida reached for the brown hat-

"I'll just go up and check on the master. Keep an eye on that pot, will you?"

Phyllida forgot about the hat. She shot through the hall, out of the front door, then raced across the side lawn and dove into the shrubbery.

"Juggs, open this door."

The words, uttered in a tone Lucifer usually associated with his mother, jerked him back to consciousness.

"Nah-can't do that," a heavy male voice answered. "Mightn't be wise."

"Wise?" The woman's tone had risen. After a pause, during which Lucifer could almost hear her rein in her temper, she asked, "Has he regained consciousness at all since you picked him up from the Manor?"

So he was no longer at the Manor. Where the hell was he?

"Nah! Out like a light, he is."

He wasn't, but he might as well have been. Beyond hearing, his senses weren't functioning well-he couldn't feel much beyond the massive ache in his head. He was lying on his side on some very hard surface. The air was cool and held a hint of musty dust. He couldn't lift his lids-even that much movement was still beyond him.