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white.” He studied his notebook. “Here: ‘veteran collector of scandal. Kept records.’”
    â€œYes, but I’m sure she never used them to extort money. I can’t think of anything less likely.”
    â€œGood gracious, no!” The Chief Constable was horrified. “My dear Inspector, a lady of the unhappy victim’s social standing simply doesn’t stoop to extortion.”
    â€œThere’s other kinds of blackmail,” Crummle said obstinately,
“like making people do what you want. And there’s just plain mischief-making, like telling a wife her husband’s been seen in Brighton with a chorus girl. And I’ve known them that’ll tell a person they know something just to enjoy watching them squirm.”
    In spite of his curious syntax, the Inspector was making sense. “But I don’t think it was any of those,” Daisy said. “I think she just enjoyed knowing. It gave her a feeling of power, though she would never use the knowledge.”
    â€œAh, you can say Lady Eva wouldn’t stoop to it, madam, but you can’t be sure. And no more could the people she found out about be sure she wouldn’t tell. And to my mind, that’s motive enough for murder, sir.”
    Sir Leonard sighed. “You may be right.”
    â€œMrs. Fletcher here says the deceased kept her records at her house in London, sir. I’ll have to send a man up to take a look.”
    â€œCan’t spare anyone,” Sir Leonard said with suspicious promptitude. “Look here, my dear chap, we’d have to notify the Metropolitan Police before intruding upon their bailiwick. Why not just ask them to see what they can find at Lady Eva’s? And once they’re involved, why not ask ’em to give you a hand down here?”
    â€œI’ve got everything well in hand,” Crummle protested, with no great conviction.
    â€œWhat you’ve got is a whacking great house full of important people any number of whom may turn out to be suspects. They’re not going to take kindly to being questioned. Now wouldn’t you rather they vented their spleen at some London chappie, not at you?”
    â€œYou can be sure I’ll do my duty, sir, without fear nor favour.”
    â€œNaturally, naturally. I don’t mean to suggest otherwise.” A note of desperation entered Sir Leonard’s voice. “The fact is, my dear fellow, I’m bound to take Lord Haverhill’s wishes into account. As long as they don’t run counter to my duty, of course! I hardly think a request for a detective from Scotland Yard can be regarded as beyond the pale.”

    â€œHis lordship wants a Yard man on the case?” Crummle demanded angrily.
    â€œâ€™Fraid so. No reflection on your competence, Inspector, no reflection at all. But as a matter of fact, I’ve already been on to a chap I know, Superintendent Crane, and he’s sending us one of his best men, a chief inspector.”
    Sir Leonard had funked mentioning the chief inspector’s name, Daisy noted. Or perhaps he was being tactful not mentioning it in her presence. With luck, Crummle would finish with her before he found out her husband was to take over his case.
    Sir Leonard was making soothing noises about how much the London DCI would appreciate Crummle’s groundwork as a strong basis for the investigation. “Fingerprints, I suppose, and photographs and all that. Dr. What’s-his-name, the police surgeon, never can remember his name, he’s been already, eh?”
    â€œYes, sir,” grunted Crummle, unsoothed. “Dr. Philpotts.”
    â€œGood, good. Right you are. Now, who’s going to telephone London and tell them about these mysterious records of Lady Eva’s? Like me to do it, would you, my dear chap?”
    â€œYou’d better, sir, seeing I don’t have your connections at the Yard. You’ll be wanting me to assist this DCI, will you,