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Fletcher.
    Daisy went over to the desk, sat down on the chair Walsdorf had placed for her earlier, and waited. This did not bode well for her intention of helping Crummle. She realized the poor man was bound to feel rather out of his depth among lords and ladies, but being discourteous wasn’t going to help him.
    At last he looked up from his notebook.

    Before he could speak, she asked kindly, “What can I do for you, Inspector?”
    Disconcerted, then affronted, he snapped, “ I ’ ll ask the questions, madam. I understand you discovered the deceased?”
    â€œGosh, no! One of the maids was taking round morning tea. She started screaming murder and most of the people in the bedrooms on that passage came out to see what was up. Another maid looked in and said Lady Eva was dead. Mr. Montagu Fotheringay, Lady Eva’s brother, wanted to go in but I stopped him. I asked Nancy—Mrs. Timothy Fotheringay—to go in and check, because she was a nurse during the War. She confirmed that Lady Eva had been murdered.”
    â€œSo you didn’t even seen the cor—the deceased?”
    â€œI did take a quick look before I went to telephone. I didn’t want to be responsible for a false alarm. When I saw—well, I imagine you’ve seen for yourself. There’s not really any question as to whether she was murdered, is there?—I locked the door and gave the key to the butler, Baines. Then I came down here to telephone.”
    â€œYou seem to have taken a great deal upon yourself, Mrs. Fletcher.” The inspector scowled at her. “I understood from Mr. Walsdorf that you’re a guest at Haverhill, not a member of the family. Yet you took charge and everyone followed your instructions?”
    â€œNot exactly.” Daisy hesitated, extremely reluctant to explain her unorthodox credentials to the touchy detective. Apparently the desk officer who took John Walsdorf’s call hadn’t told Crummle about Alec. With luck—lots of luck—he’d never have to find out. “I suppose they turned to me because I’m not one of the family, so I’m able to view the tragedy with a clearer head.”
    â€œHmph.” His pale blue eyes held nothing but scepticism.
    More to stop him pursuing that line of thought than for any other reason, Daisy said, “There’s one more thing I ought to tell you. Lady Eva was an inveterate collector of gossip and scandal. I believe she kept records at her place in London of all the information she gathered.”

    â€œLondon!”
    â€œHave to ask the Yard for help, sir,” observed the constable with malicious satisfaction.
    Crummle looked as if he’d rather die the death of a thousand cuts. Daisy awaited his response with interest and a certain trepidation, but it never came. The door opened, a breezy voice said “No need to announce me,” and a short, thin man limped in.
    The inspector jumped to his feet. “Sir!”
    â€œSit down, my dear chap, sit down. I see you’re hard at work already?” He looked at Daisy.
    â€œThis is Mrs. Fletcher, sir. She’s helping me with my enquiries.”
    â€œHow do you do, Mrs. Fletcher. Fletcher? Aha! Crowe’s the name, Sir Leonard Crowe. I’m the Chief Constable of this county. You won’t mind if I just interrupt for long enough to give the good inspector a bit of news?”
    â€œNot at all, Sir Leonard.”
    â€œExcellent!”
    Daisy read complicity in his regard and knew what was coming. “Perhaps I should leave?” she said hopefully.
    â€œOh, no, no, no, dear lady. Quite unnecessary.” Turning back to Crummle with a guilty air, Sir Leonard hesitated.
    The inspector beat him to it. “It is my duty to inform you, sir, that Mrs. Fletcher here claims the deceased was a blackmailer.”
    â€œI never said anything of the sort!”
    â€œPardon me, madam, but I have it down here in black and