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Hatton whom you and your uncle, Sir Alan Dilhorne, so greatly resemble, was named after my great-great-grandfather, his first cousin. Interesting, Mr Grant, sir, interesting?’
    He was gone, leaving Cobie to reflect that Machiavelli’s Chance had been brought along, once again, like a horse ready for him to ride.

Chapter Two
    â€˜E xactly like the other one, Lizzie Steele. But not thrown in the river this time, just dumped in an alley.’
    Inspector Will Walker thought that there were some things in his line of work which he would never get used to, and examining the sexually mutilated bodies of murdered girl children was one of them.
    He sighed. He could imagine the excited headlines in the new popular press, the criticism of the police for not being able to track the brutal murderer down. Just his luck that he should have been involved in the previous case.
    â€˜Turns your stomach, don’t it, guv?’
    Walker nodded wearily.
    â€˜True, Bates. I shan’t rest until the beast who did this has been stopped. But it’s not going to be easy. No clues at all—other than that this one was killed and maimed exactly like the Steele girl was.’
    â€˜So it wasn’t Hoskyns who killed Lizzie Steele?’ said Bates thoughtfully. ‘Do you think that the Ripper has come back from wherever he vanished to?’
    Walker shook his head. Four years ago, in 1888, Jack the Ripper had stalked the East End, killing and mutilating prostitutes in the most gruesome manner. And then, as suddenly as they had started, the murders stopped.
    â€˜No, Bates. This ain’t the Ripper’s handiwork. It’s a different way of going on altogether. No, this means another interview with our friend Mr Dilley. If it weren’t that he had an unbreakable alibi for the night Hoskyns was killed…’
    His voice trailed off. He was a frustrated man these days. Things were not going well with him. He had walked upstairs only the day before to be told that his record of success in clearing up crimes was not good enough. He had wanted to retort that so long as he was not given proper back-up, his record would remain poor. But he held his tongue.
    Now he had a multiple murderer on his patch. The similarity between this death, and that of Lizzie Steele was too great to believe that two men were involved. Dismally he had little doubt that this would not be the last body he would be called out to see…
    A fortnight ago the word had come down from on high to lay off Mr Jacobus Grant, alias Mr Dilley, amateur magician and former outlaw. What a thing it was to have friends in high places, being his cynical reaction to that. On the other hand, he had to allow that, so far, he had uncovered nothing to support his belief that Grant was responsible either for the fire by the river or Hoskyns’s death.
    But if Grant had thought that Hoskyns had murdered the girl, as well as procured her, what was he thinking now? Hoskyns dead, Madame Louise and the rest of her cohorts in prison—and a killer of girl children was still on the loose.
    What magic trick could Mr Dilley answer that with?
    Dinah sat at breakfast with Cobie. Their Sandringham excursion was safely over without any further trouble fromSir Ratcliffe or anyone else. Not that she was aware of Cobie’s session with Hervey Beauchamp.
    Sir Ratcliffe had behaved himself after that first disastrous evening. The Prince had made it plain to him that he was no longer one of the favoured few around him, and he did not like that upstart Grant the more for that.
    Part of him regretted the behaviour which had drawn the Royal wrath down on him because it meant that his rocky social position had become even rockier. He could only console himself with the thought that, as long as he possessed Tum Tum’s letters, the Prince could not banish him from high society by withdrawing his patronage completely.
    On their last day in Norfolk the Prince had genially