Letting his hair fall, the lady stated, "So it's obvious he's not the murderer."

"Not with that wound and the halberd lying beside him. Looks like the murderer hid behind the door and coshed him when he discovered the body. Mrs. Hemmings swears the thing couldn't have fallen on its own. Seems clear enough. So we'll just have to wait and see what this gentleman can tell us once he regains his senses."

Precious little, Lucifer mentally answered.

"Well, he's not going to get better lying in this cell." The lady's voice had developed a decisive note.

"Indeed not. Can't understand what Bristleford was about, thinking this fellow was the murderer who'd swooned at the sight of blood."

Swooned at the sight of blood? If he'd been able, Lucifer would have snorted derisively, but he still couldn't speak or move. The pain in his head was just waiting for a chance to bludgeon him into unconsciousness. The most he could do was lie still and listen, and learn all he could. While the lady held sway, he was safe-she seemed to have taken his best interests to heart.

"I thought Bristleford said he had the knife in 'is fist."

That came from Juggs, of course.

"Papa" snorted. "Self-defense. Had a moment's warning the murderer was behind him and grabbed the only weapon to hand. Not much use against a halberd, unfortunately. No-it was obvious someone had found the body and turned it over. Can't see the murderer bothering-it wasn't as if Horatio would have been carrying any valuables in his nightshirt."

"So this man is innocent," the lady reiterated. "We really should move him to the Grange."

"I'll ride back and send the carriage."

"Papa" replied.

"I'll wait here. Tell Gladys to pile as many cushions and pillows as she can into the carriage, and…"