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Temperance and Hill, he manoeuvred the courtier into his coach, and by the time they had finished, the club was empty. With a weary sigh, Temperance indicated that Chaloner was to accompany her to the kitchen, where she had assembled the staff.
    ‘Interview the girls first,’ she directed. ‘Then they can go to bed. I do not want them yawning and heavy-eyed when they start work tonight.’
    Chaloner obliged, although the prostitutes were young, fit and vivacious, and he doubted they would be troubled by the loss of an hour’s sleep. They were all shapes and sizes, so as to accommodate any particular preference among the guests, and were in a state of careless undress, which made it difficult for Chaloner to concentrate on his questions.
    ‘We saw nothing unusual,’ said one named Belle, taking the role of spokeswoman. ‘It was busy but it always is on Sundays. Our gentlemen are forced to spend hours in church, you see, so they cannot wait to come here and make up for all the tedium.’
    ‘Especially the clergymen,’ interposed Snowflake.
    ‘Did any of them do anything unusual?’ asked Chaloner.
    ‘We cannot reveal that,’ declared Belle indignantly. ‘It would be a betrayal of trust.’
    ‘I meant when they were in the parlour,’ explained Chaloner. ‘Other than the woodlice incident, did anyone pay Ferine particular attention? Did he say or do anything to annoy someone? Was there a disagreement or a squabble? Perhaps over Snowflake – I know she is popular.’
    ‘I am,’ agreed Snowflake proudly. ‘But no. Our guests behaved exactly as they always do – with relief to be away from the strictures of high society.’
    ‘All the men I allowed upstairs were clients who had been here many times before,’ added Maude. ‘None would have hurt Ferine.’
    ‘How can you be so sure?’ asked Chaloner. ‘Some of them fought in the wars, which means they are no strangers to violence. And all are wealthy enough to hire assassins.’
    ‘Oh, fie!’ cried Belle. ‘You read too many salacious broadsheets! Our patrons are gentle, peaceable men, and there is not a malicious bone among them.’
    Chaloner struggled not to gape, given that their members included such feisty individuals as Buckingham, Rupert and Lawson, two of whom had drawn their swords that very night.
    ‘It is true,’ insisted Snowflake. ‘We see a different side of them. Take Rupert, for example. One of his favourite places is Hackney Marsh, which is where I am from, and he loves to chat about the ducks on the River Lea. He has even met my father.’
    Chaloner seriously doubted that Rupert had done any such thing, and strongly suspected that the Prince had lied in order to make her more willing to do what he wanted in bed.
    ‘Perhaps you would tell me where you all were at the time of the murder,’ he said.
    There was some consternation at this request, as most had been with clients and Temperance had forbidden them to mention names, but he eventually managed to establish that they all had alibis for the salient time. Except Snowflake.
    ‘Well,
I
did not kill him,’ she said crossly. ‘He was one of my favourites – especially when he gave me presents.’
    ‘Like dried toads,’ recalled Chaloner.
    Snowflake nodded. ‘And wood from a gibbet to protect me from agues. He also gave me something valuable, something he said that a lot of people will want in time, so I am to keep it safe. Show him, Maude.’
    Maude unlocked the heavy chest where Temperance stored her money, and produced two metal cylinders about the length of her hand. One fitted inside the other, and they looked ancient.
    ‘What are they?’ asked Chaloner, regarding them blankly.
    ‘I do not know,’ confessed Snowflake. ‘But he said they will make me rich one day.’
    There was no more to be learned, and Snowflake seemed an unlikely killer, so he nodded to say he had finished, and watched the girls troop off to bed. Then he questioned the cooks and the servants who