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‘No’ like you to be on the side of the law, Harry,’ said John.

‘I should have been consulted,’ said Mr Faulds. ‘It’s only what’s right and proper. I should have decided whether to telephone the police station. I’ve no intention of touching anything.’ But his actions belied his words; he was shifting from foot to foot, inches from the door, and shooting its locked handle endless darting glances, like a puppy who had been trained not to scratch at things but was dying to.

‘Oh, Mr Faulds, please,’ I said. ‘If you had seen it you’d wish you hadn’t. There’s nothing right and proper to be done about it any way you look. And I’m not trying to take centre-stage, I assure you. Let’s please all go back downstairs and wait for the police. If they need someone to show them round, you can volunteer for that – I’m sure I don’t want to.’

At that moment, the question was decided for us by Eldry, who fainted, sinking into her skirts and then half rolling a few steps down the stairs. John and Harry gathered her up between them and fought over her for a moment or two, then John relinquished her with a grin.

‘I hope she comes to before you put her down,’ he said. ‘She wouldn’t want to miss this. Anybody else feeling dicky?’ he asked, turning to the other girls and flexing his arms.

‘Shut up with your stupid jokes for once,’ said Harry, turning away and beginning to feel his way down the steps. ‘It’s not the time.’

John tried mugging to the girls but they threw him their severest looks and trotted anxiously after Harry and his still unconscious cargo. John, his cheeks aflame, followed them. I had been looking at Mattie, the hall boy, who was dangerously white-looking, and I went over to him, put an arm across his back and walked down after the others holding him up firmly.

‘Thanks, Miss Rossiter,’ he said. ‘Sorry to be so-’

‘Ch-ch,’ I said. ‘I’ve never been closer to fainting in my life, my dear. Don’t say another word about it.’ In truth, though, I was wondering why he – who had seen nothing of the horrors – should be so affected, but I filed the question away for later; after all I barely knew the child and perhaps this was his norm.

Above us, Stanley was speaking in a low and rather thrilled voice.

‘Terrible thing, Mr Faulds,’ he said. ‘Shocking the way she just waltzed in and took over. I don’t want to see it – I’m as sick as a dog just thinking about it – but if you want to get the spare key and go for a look-see I’ll stand watch for you.’

‘Oh, stop sucking up for once,’ said Mr Faulds.

Three policemen arrived at the door and two of them climbed the stairs, sounding very solemn and deliberate as they did so. I was with Lollie, having changed places with Mrs Hepburn shortly after the mass gathering on the landing had broken up. Eldry had been put to bed with a hot bottle and the steady Phyllis watching over her, and Mattie had been given the honour of one of the servants’ hall armchairs and the more pertinent remedy of hot sweet tea.

Lollie sat absolutely motionless in a small armchair staring straight ahead of her. She had a shawl over her shoulders and there was a fire in the grate – Mrs Hepburn’s work, I imagined – but she was white and pinched-looking and she turned her head only very slowly when a firm knock sounded and a large man in a dark suit entered along with a uniformed sergeant.

‘Superintendent Hardy, Mrs Balfour,’ he said in a strained voice. Lollie stared back without blinking, but I must have reacted since he turned to me and explained. ‘We’ve suspended leave and called in all the specials while the strike’s running, and every one of my inspectors and sergeants is busy organising them so it fell to me.’

‘I see,’ said Lollie. ‘Well, thank you for coming at all, Mr Hardy.’

The large man looked rather grim at that, perhaps seeing an unintended slight or suspecting irony. Actually, I thought Lollie’s tone – the careless sound of her voice – arose from disbelief, from a simple inability to take in what was happening.

‘I assure you, my dear madam,’ said Superintendent Hardy, ‘you will receive our utmost attention until this matter is resolved. I shall see to it personally.’ His voice and his bulk were reassuring although there was some subtle kind of panic in his eyes. Still, Lollie nodded.

‘Of course, of course,’ she said.

‘Now, it’s your husband, I believe?’ he said. ‘Met with a nasty mishap? Where is he?’

Mr Faulds was hovering behind Superintendent Hardy and he stepped forward now.

‘In his bedroom, sir, if you might allow me to escort you.’

‘And you are?’ Hardy nodded at the sergeant, who opened his notebook.

‘Ernest Faulds, the butler.’

‘Well, Faulds, if you’ll just point us in the right direction we’ll take over from here.’

‘It’s locked, Superintendent,’ I said, and he turned to look at me. ‘I thought it was best. I have the key, but I’m sorry to tell you that – in all the confusion – I didn’t stop to think about prints; I just grabbed it, so there’s probably no point in worrying about them now.’ I took the key out of my pocket and offered it to him.

‘Thank you, Miss…?’

That was the question I had been trying to answer for myself since I first stepped towards Pip’s bed and saw the bloodstain. Was this the end of Miss Rossiter? Surely it must be, and yet not only would I give anything to be able to stay in her skin a little longer now that matters had taken this hideous turn, but there was the problem of where my duty lay. As I considered the point, all of a sudden I thought I knew what lay behind the look of unease in Hardy’s eyes. His inspectors and sergeants were policing this stupid strike and he had been left nursing the screaming baby, holding the ticking bomb. And if he could not read the shock in a widow’s voice – whether it were the shock of grief or the shock of what she had done, if she had done it – could he solve a murder? Could he, plucked out from behind his desk and thrown back into the torrent of an investigation for the first time in years perhaps – and there was something about him, the crisp cuffs, clean nails and careful arrangement of his glossy hair, which made me sure it was years – but anyway, could he be trusted to do it without me?

‘Miss…?’ he prompted, and the very fact that he seemed not to have gleaned any of what was surging through me, right before his eyes, had almost made my mind up when Lollie spoke, looking awake again, and aware of what was around her.

‘Miss Rossiter, my lady’s maid,’ she said. I shelved the decision, telling myself that the body was their first priority, that it would be an annoyance and a distraction to them to start a long and confusing story about my identity right now.

‘Fanny Rossiter, Superintendent,’ I said. ‘I, with one other, found him, you know.’

Mr Hardy took the key from me and I was glad to see that he – finally – gave me a searching look as he did so. Miss Rossiter’s vowels and manner of speaking had completely deserted me and even Mr Hardy must know that I was no ordinary maid.

‘This way, sir,’ said Mr Faulds, and they left Lollie and me alone.

‘Please don’t tell them who you are, Dandy,’ she whispered to me as soon as they were gone. ‘If they know that I thought he was going to hurt me they’ll think I hurt him. They’ll think I only asked you to come to give me an alibi and they’ll arrest me and put me in jail and I’d die. I couldn’t stand to be locked up in a jail cell. Oh, please, promise me. Or ask-’ She broke off with a cry. ‘I was going to say, ask Pip,’ she said. ‘He would know what to do. He would be able to help. Oh! Oh, Pip!’ Then she put her head down into her hands and began crying hard, sobs racking her chest as though she were choking.