back into the room.
‘It was Veronica O’Bryan,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised.’ No, he wasn’t surprised. Most of all he was relieved.
Sir Charles nodded. ‘That’s one coincidence too many. Damn! I wonder what she heard?’ He bit his lip. ‘What now, Brooke? Even now we don’t know enough to take definite action.’
Anthony chewed the problem over. ‘We need some evidence. D’you know which is her room? If there’s anything to be found, that’s the obvious place to look.’
‘I can ask Sedgley which room she has. I think a search is a good idea but getting her out of the way may be a problem.’
‘Let’s see what turns up,’ said Anthony. ‘She’s bound to go out sometime.’
‘All right,’ Sir Charles agreed. ‘Come on. We’d better go down to lunch.’
Anthony half-expected Veronica O’Bryan to be absent from lunch but she was there, all right. What’s more, the look she gave him and Sir Charles as they came down the stairs convinced him that she’d managed to overhear enough of their conversation to get the wind up. It wouldn’t take much, he reflected. All she’d have to hear was the word Frankie and she’d know exactly which way the wind was blowing.
That being the case, he was surprised, then pleased, then deeply suspicious when, over the apple pie and cream, she announced her intention of going riding that afternoon. ‘I think I’ll take Moondancer over to Carson’s Water,’ she said. ‘She needs a gallop.’
Josette Sherston looked up. ‘You’re going out?’
‘You have no objection, I presume?’ said Veronica O’Bryan icily.
‘Carson’s Water’s a fair old way,’ said Sherston.
‘I need some fresh air, Patrick. I probably won’t be back for tea.’
‘No, you probably won’t, if you go as far as Carson’s Water,’ said Sherston mildly. ‘Incidentally, Colonel,’ he added, turning to Anthony, ‘if you fancy taking one of the horses out, please say so. You too, Talbot. You’re very welcome.’
‘I think I’d rather have a stroll round the grounds,’ said Anthony. ‘I’m feeling very lazy. I’d like to take a look round the stables though. I like horses.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Tara. ‘We’ll go after lunch.’
‘Did Mrs O’Bryan really go riding?’ asked Sir Charles.
They were in Anthony’s room. Anthony had been shown the stables by Tara, then retreated to his room, pleading an overpowering desire for an afternoon nap.
Anthony nodded. ‘Yes, I saw her leave. Mrs Sherston went out too. It’s odd, you know. I could have sworn Mrs O’Bryan heard something this morning. I’d have thought she’d be very cautious about leaving her room unguarded.’
Sir Charles shrugged. ‘She might think it’s all right. After all, you mentioned Frankie to her last night. You obviously didn’t know much about Frankie then. She might not realize you’ve tumbled to it.’
‘That’s the optimistic view,’ said Anthony dryly.
‘Yes . . . She could be meeting someone to tell them about you. I thought of following her, but it’s next door to impossible to follow someone on horseback and stay unobserved.’
‘It could be a trap of some sort.’
‘It’s possible,’ admitted Sir Charles. He opened the door and looked along the corridor. ‘Come on, Brooke,’ he said. ‘We might as well try our luck. Thanks to Sedgley, I know exactly where her room is.’
The upstairs of the house was very quiet, the sun-filled corridor wrapped in early summer silence. The only sounds were far-off snatches of conversation drifting up the stairs and the rustle of the wind in the trees through the open window at the front of the house. Most of the doors in the corridor stood ajar. Veronica O’Bryan’s was locked.
Sir Charles took a bunch of picklocks from his pocket.
‘Wait a moment,’ said Anthony and went down on one knee beside the keyhole. He drew out a piece of paper that had been stuck in the door. ‘She left that as a telltale,’ he said. ‘I’ll put it back when we leave.’ He examined the door carefully. ‘There’s nothing else.’
Sir Charles grinned in satisfaction. ‘So she was expecting a visit. That sounds promising.’
Anthony stood to one side while Sir Charles opened the door. ‘Stay outside,’ he said quietly as the door swung open. ‘I’ll feel happier knowing you’re on guard.’
He took the picklocks and went in. His real fear, that Veronica O’Bryan had somehow doubled back and was waiting for him, had been quieted by the telltale of the piece of paper. That would be impossible to arrange from the inside. He stood by the door and considered the room.
He hoped that Veronica O’Bryan would