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“Won’t be long.”
    Daisy waited outside on the landing until she heard the captain being ushered into the breakfast room and then ran lightly down the stairs.
    Becket was standing in the hall.
    “Why, Daisy!” he exclaimed. “You do look like such a fine lady.”
    “Pretty, isn’t it?” said Daisy, smoothing down her gown with complacent fingers. “What’s going on?”
    “At first the captain refused,” said Becket in a low voice, “because he’s busy and he doesn’t like the way Lord Hadfield expects him to drop everything and come running. So the secretary, Mr. Jarvis, he phones back and says that Lady Rose has received a death threat.”
    “Oh, my stars and garters!” said Daisy. “This is bad. Rose has had a bad shock. She looks as cool as anything but I heard her crying during the night. I hope they don’t decide to ship her off to India after all!”
    “The story’s been in all the papers. Probably some nutter.”

    “Probably a madman,” Harry was saying. “I’ll take this round to Scotland Yard. Kerridge will want to see if he can get any fingerprints off the letter. I mean, it must be from someone deranged.” He studied the letter again. It consisted of letters cut out from magazines and the message read, “Dear Lady Rose, Keep your mouth shut about what Dolly told you or you’ll be next. A Well-Wisher.”
    “I mean,” Harry went on, “any sane person would assume that Lady Rose had already told Scotland Yard everything she knew.”
    Matthew Jarvis, standing behind the earl’s chair, gave a slight cough. “If I may be so bold, my lord . . .”
    “Go on. What is it?”
    “There was an article in the Daily Mail yesterday which speculated that Lady Rose probably knew the dark secret of what had caused Miss Tremaine to say she was running away but was keeping quiet out of loyalty to her friend.”
    “Rubbish,” said Harry. “Lady Rose barely knew the girl.”
    “How did the papers find out that my daughter was even involved?” raged the earl.
    “I’m sure they have some pet policeman at Scotland Yard in their pay, not to mention the bribes they give to servants.”
    “A reporter tried to bribe me,” said Brum. “But I sent him off with a flea in his ear, my lord. I told him I was due for a raise in salary anyway.”
    “Are you?” asked the earl, bewildered.
    Harry looked briefly amused. “I think Brum means that he is now.”
    The earl twisted round and goggled at his butler. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”
    The butler raised his gloved hands in horror. “I would not dream of it, my lord. But your lordship did promise me a raise in salary after a number of years.”
    “Did I? Oh, well, see to it Mr. Jarvis.”
    “My lord . . .” began Brum.
    “What now?”
    “If I may speak, my lord. It concerns Lady Rose and her dark secret.”
    “She doesn’t have a dark secret!” howled the earl. “Oh, what is it?”
    “The Morning Bugle has picked up on the Daily Mail ’s story and has a large feature on Lady Rose about her involvement in previous murders and the fact that her fiancé is the captain here. They have published a photograph of Lady Rose taken a year ago at a garden party in which she looks sad. They say she must break the bounds of loyalty and tell the police what she knows. I did not wish to distress you, but several newspapers were on the doorstep yesterday.”
    Harry eyed Brum’s impassive face and was suddenly sure that the butler had taken money from the reporters and had supplied them with fantasies about Rose in return.
    “This is serious,” said Harry. “I should have read the popular papers instead of the Times. I am afraid Lady Rose will need to be kept indoors until we are sure she is safe.”
    Rose was summoned. She turned slightly pale when she realized Harry was taking the threat seriously. Daisy had just told her about the letter.
    “It may be just some crank,” said Harry soothingly, “but it is as well to be safe.”

    Rose