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by osmosis.’
    Jenny smiled. Ah, that explained it. Easily led. And obviously used to being handled by the women in his life. Excellent. It meant that he’d already been thoroughly house-trained. As a prospective lover for a brief summer flirtation, he was shaping up nicely.
    ‘Have you seen the Fellows’ garden by moonlight?’ she asked him. ‘It’s strictly private and off limits, but I discovered an unlocked gate into the walled grounds on my afternoon exploration.’
    James laughed. ‘Are you trying to get me into trouble?’
    ‘Oh yes,’ Jenny agreed, taking him gently by the hand.
     
    As the travelling cook showed James Raye just how lovely hollyhocks could be by the light of a silvery moon, someone else, now circulating in the JCR and drinking a fine malt whisky, went over their plans for tomorrow in their head.
    Timing was important of course. And, if the victim arrived too early or too late, then a little improvization might be called for. But the person planning murder was fairly confident that they wouldn’t be seen. Or if they were, that nothing too compromising would be obvious to a casual glance from a passer-by.
    But still. Best get an early night and lay off the booze. A clear head was essential.
    The would-be killer smiled, bid several people good night, and retired to bed.
    Once in their tall, high-ceilinged bedroom, the killer put the kettle on and then carefully retrieved the stolen bottle of medication from their suitcase. Carefully, the killer cleaned out a mug and wiped it dry, before pulling apart twenty capsules and emptying the powder into the mug. When the kettle was boiled, the killer then poured the boiling water over it, anddissolved the powder into liquid form.
    From the research done, it was more than enough to kill a man.
    Carefully, the killer set aside the water to cool, and began to undress before climbing into bed.
    This individual contemplated their actions uneasily. The person concerned wasn’t a monster, when all was said and done. Nobody in their right mind, after all, actually
wanted
to kill another human being. But the killer was being given no other choice. It wasn’t, even, really their fault. They were being pushed into it by the malice of others. What was going to happen tomorrow was the result of other people’s wrongdoing, as much as anything else.
    And with that comforting thought, the individual turned over in the comfortable bed and, eventually, slept.

CHAPTER TWO
    J enny rose bright and early, smiling over her memories of the previous evening. James had looked as good in the moonlight as he had under the far more prosaic electric lights, and they had spent a pleasant hour in the gardens, strolling, chatting, and generally getting to know one another.
    So far the signs looked good, but Jenny was picky about her men. Time would tell. Right now, she stretched and dressed and made her way down to the kitchens, although, in truth, breakfast could have been handled by the college’s regular kitchen workers, since there was very little that needed overseeing by a professional cook.
    As she stepped into the massive, white-tiled space, the unmistakable scent of toasting bread hit her nose and made her smile happily. Toast and frying onions were two scents that could be almost guaranteed to put most things right, in her opinion.
    The scouts had already set up a selection of cereals, breakfast fruits and bread rolls on the side tables, to which the guests could help themselves. For those who preferred porridge, Jenny could see that a big pot was already simmering away, and was being attended by a competent-looking, grandmotherly woman, who wasn’t about to let it stick on the bottom.Excellent. Jenny beamed at her and got a happy beam back.
    Then she walked across to the vast range of ovens, where two men and two women were at work grilling bacon, sausages and kidneys, and frying eggs.
    Jenny nodded. ‘Just what is it about the great traditional English breakfast that