‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The company may be uncomfortable, but it’s still the safest way to go. If you really do need to lie down, we could always bring in a couch …’
‘Nonsense!’ said Melanie. ‘Walter and I have our bedroom here on the ground floor, these days. Just down the hall. You’ll have no trouble hearing me yell if we need you.’
‘When did you move downstairs, Daddy?’ said Penny, frowning. ‘You’ve had the same room on the first floor since you were a boy.’
‘The view’s better down here,’ growled Walter, avoiding her gaze.
‘He can’t handle the stairs any more,’ said Melanie. ‘Another good reason why you need to lie down and get your rest, dear.’
‘She’s right,’ said Walter. He smiled at her. ‘You always know what’s best for me. That is why I keep you around, isn’t it, dear?’
‘Of course, Walter. Because I’m always right. Now come along.’
They headed for the dining hall door, Walter leaning heavily on his walking stick and on Melanie. He was too tired now even to try and hide how tired he was. Everyone else started getting to their feet.
I stood up, to face them. ‘This really isn’t a good idea,’ I said.
‘No one else has been killed since James,’ said Sylvia, just a bit testily. ‘I don’t see any reason why we should see ourselves as targets. Murderers don’t kill for no reason. You need your rest too, Diana. You get some sleep, and I’ll stand guard over you. Well actually, I’ll sit guard over you. I’ve got some magazines.’
‘She’s right,’ Diana said to me. ‘We’ve all had a long hard day, and we can’t hope to defend ourselves or protect each other if we’re too tired to keep our eyes open. We’re only on the first floor, after all. And I can probably scream louder than Melanie, if I have to.’
‘Dear Diana,’ murmured Melanie, still guiding Walter to the door. ‘Always so competitive …’
‘I think I’ll feel safer in my own room, with the door locked and a chair jammed up against it,’ said Khan. ‘I suggest we all get what sleep we can, recharge our batteries, and then reconvene tomorrow morning in the drawing room.’
‘Someone should send word down to Jeeves, in the kitchen,’ said Penny. ‘He can stand guard in the hallway, with his gun.’
‘You trust the one man we know for sure isn’t who he said he was?’ I said. ‘The one man in the house with a weapon?’
‘The Colonel wasn’t shot,’ said Penny. ‘And right now, I don’t trust anyone.’
She just happened to be looking at me when she said that.
‘I’ll walk you to your room, darling,’ said Roger.
‘I can look after myself!’ she said, a little more sharply than was necessary.
And just like that, they were all heading for the door. There was nothing I could say or do to stop them separating, so I just shrugged mentally and went after them. Maybe if they did split up, someone would seize the opportunity to do something stupid, or revealing. Or incriminating.
At the last moment, Penny hung back at the doorway and gestured for me to come forward so we could speak quietly.
‘You can’t bully them into doing the sensible thing, Ishmael. They all need time to themselves, to talk and think in private. A chance to play the blame game and decide who they trust. It’s scary to be on your own, but it’s even scarier to be stuck in a room with a hidden killer. What do you think is really going on here, Ishmael? Was James the real target, or was he just a way to get at Daddy?’
‘The killer must have seen the Colonel as a threat, to kill him first,’ I said. ‘Beyond that, I have no idea. It could be anyone.’
‘Including me?’ said Penny.
‘Of course not,’ I lied.
Seven
I took my time climbing the long winding staircase to the next floor. Partly because I had a lot of thinking to do, but mostly because I wanted to give the others time to get ahead of me. I didn’t want anyone at my back. In fact, by the time I got to the top of the stairs, I was alone on the landing. Everyone else had hurried inside their rooms, and all the doors were firmly closed. It was very quiet.
I strolled down the corridor, all the way to my far-off room, and stopped before the door. I looked at the stylized image of the red rose, and then leaned forward and listened carefully. I couldn’t hear anything inside the room. Couldn’t smell anything, either. But I still had a feeling of being watched; so I took my time getting my key out of my pocket, and then looked quickly back down the corridor. No less than four doors that had been closed were now cracked open just a little, so people could peer out. The doors all slammed shut in a hurry as they saw me looking, like so many firecrackers going off. I smiled, unlocked my door, and then sent the door flying inwards with a push of one finger. It swung all the way back to crash against the inside wall, with a satisfyingly loud noise. The room inside was very dark, very still, very quiet.
I reached inside and found the light switch. A pleasant yellow glow filled the room, showing it to be completely empty. I remained where I was, in the doorway, looking in. I didn’t feel at all embarrassed, or even self-conscious, at taking these necessary precautions. Being so very careful, all the time, is what has kept me alive all these years. I listened, carefully. I could hear people moving about in their rooms, further down the corridor. I could even hear them talking, quietly and far away. Muffled, as though underwater. It all seemed peaceful enough, nothing worrying or out of the ordinary, so I entered my room.
I shut the door firmly, but didn’t lock it. I had a distinct feeling people would be coming to talk with me. To say things they wouldn’t or couldn’t say to someone they actually knew. To tell me things in private that they would never dare say in public. People have always found it easy to talk to me; perhaps because they can sense I won’t be so quick to judge them.
I looked around my room. The yellow light was warm and comforting and easy on the eyes. The rose-patterned wallpaper somewhat less so. The fire was still crackling cheerfully in the fireplace. I went over to it and studied the flames thoughtfully. Jeeves had been very firm that I needed to tend the thing, to keep it from going out. I knew you had to feed it coal, regularly, but not too much or you’d smother the fire and it would go out. But beyond that … I took a piece of coal from the scuttle, dropped it on to the fire, considered the effect, and then added another piece. That should do, for a while.
I did some more looking around. Everything was just as I’d left it. No one had entered my room. If they had, I would have seen their footprints in the thick carpet. Smelt their perfume, or their aftershave, or just their scent. My battered old suitcase was still sitting on the bed. I picked it up, carried it over to the massive oak cupboard, opened the door sharply, and when I was sure there was no one hiding inside it, I put the case in and shut the door again. And then, I sat on the edge of the bed, to do some thinking. I didn’t change into pyjamas, because I don’t wear such things, and I didn’t lie down on the bed because I had no intention of sleeping. I didn’t sit in one of the oversized chairs provided, because that was where people would expect to find me.
I’m not really a detective. Usually, by the time I arrive on the scene all that stuff has already been taken care of. The Colonel’s people will have worked out what and where and when, and will usually have a pretty good idea as to who and why. The Colonel gives me a name, or an identity, and then it’s up to me to track them down and take all necessary measures. On those occasions when I am called in to solve a mystery, it’s because the local field agents have run dry and the Colonel is depending on me to pick up the slack because I have a knack for the unusual. And even then, the Colonel will have amassed a really thick file for me to read on the way in, to bring me up to speed.