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‘Can I ask you one thing?’ I said. ‘And then we’ll leave you.’ He inclined his head. ‘Could you just forget all the old history now? Just say nothing about it to anyone and let it die?’

‘I’ve no interest in any of that family or their doings,’ he said – all very lofty and completely untrue; his cheeks were only now returning to their usual hue after his near apoplexy – but I believed that he would say nothing.

‘And can I ask something?’ said Alec. ‘Why, in the name of heaven, after all that had passed, did you ever come here to set up your store? Why choose this town of all places?’

Mr Hepburn smiled again. ‘To pay her back,’ he said, and his voice sent goose bumps down my spine. ‘To ruin it all for them.’

‘My God,’ said Alec. We were downstairs, in the cool darkness of the alley at the side of the bank, leaning back against the wall. ‘What an absolute horror of an old man. Wouldn’t you hope to be past such passions at his age?’

I nodded, but distasteful as the recent scene had been, something else was troubling me.

‘That mix-up is very odd,’ I said. ‘Did I say old Mr Hepburn on the telephone earlier, Alec? Why would the maid at Roseville think “Mr Hepburn” meant the grandfather rather than her own master?’

Alec shrugged. ‘It was lucky she did,’ he said. ‘We’ve added another big chunk to the story of the great feud, haven’t we?’

‘I suppose so,’ I said. ‘And I can quite believe there was enough bitterness to explain why Robert and Mary didn’t want an alliance between their grandchildren. I think the cousin marriage and the unfortunate sisters are just a nasty red herring, don’t you? An excuse for each lot to sneer at the others.’

‘God, if he knew that Jack Aitken had cuckolded his son!’ said Alec. ‘If he knew that Dugald had Aitken blood in him, he would…’

‘Explode,’ I said. ‘Burst with fury and ruin all those good Turkey carpets. He went absolutely purple at one point up there.’

Alec gave a short laugh. ‘I haven’t seen that since my brother was small. He had a talent for tantrums that had to be seen to be believed.’ He laughed again. ‘And my colouring. He used to go so black in the face that his freckles looked yellow. Very unnerving.’

‘Which brother was that?’

‘Ed,’ said Alec, and the abruptness of that one syllable told me not to say any more. I tried not to mind how much more he had said to Abigail in the hospital yesterday than he ever had to me in the five years I had known him, but instead turned my mind back to the case again.

‘I wish I knew why the mix-up was bothering me,’ I said. ‘This feeling is usually a sign that I’ve forgotten something. Is it bothering you too?’

Alec only shrugged again. ‘Roseville now?’ he said. ‘Get to work on Robin? I’d like to be able to go back to Mary and tell her that the Hepburns, to a man, either don’t know or have their lips buttoned.’

‘On whatever it is,’ I said. ‘The thing Abby told her mother yesterday can’t have anything to do with Mary and Robert’s ancient history.’

‘Yes, it’s very frustrating, isn’t it, to keep uncovering secrets and yet be sure that none of them is the secret we’re after. The one at the bottom of it all. Oh, let’s at least get out of here, Dandy. Let’s go.’

When the door of Roseville opened on us twenty minutes later it was not a servant who stood silhouetted against the light there, but an old woman dressed in black who peered up at us and cleared her throat with a fussy little sound. Without understanding why, I found myself clutching Alec’s arm, my heart suddenly hammering. Then in a moment the odd panic passed as she moved forward into the light of day.

She was a very small woman, neat and precise in her movements, and she fixed us with a bright, shrewd gaze that made me think of a robin, her head slightly on one side and the effect completed by a pronounced cupid’s bow in her mouth, so pronounced that when it was pursed, as it was now, it really did look like a beak, like the beak of a budgerigar or perhaps a canary.

‘Who are you?’ I said. Alec glanced at me, puzzled by my tone.

‘I beg your pardon?’ she said, rather clipped but not angry. ‘Can I ask the same of you? I’m afraid this isn’t a good day for visiting.’

‘Mrs Hepburn?’ I said, guessing. ‘We’re not visiting, exactly. We’ve just been to see your husband.’ Her head inclined even more to one side as she heard this and her bright eye glinted. ‘I’m Mrs Gilver and this is Mr Osborne. I wonder if we might have a word with you.’

‘Ah, the detectives,’ she said. ‘I heard about you. Come away in, then.’ She swept the door wide and we entered the hallway.

‘Please accept our condolences,’ I said.

Little Dulcie Hepburn nodded her head thoughtfully and her eyes brightened further as tears sprang into them.

‘It’s a sad finish,’ she said, ‘the two of them so young. They’d have got over it as well – that’s the worst thing. Nothing hurts more than first love, but live as long as me and you’ll surprise yourself what you can get over.’

‘You’re quite sure that it was suicide then?’ said Alec. ‘In both cases?’ His voice was low but Mrs Hepburn still shushed him.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Of course it was.’ Then she looked at Alec with a new, wary expression. ‘But why is it you need to see me?’

‘Mary Aitken sent us,’ Alec said and I did not miss the quick puckering frown that hearing the name caused.

‘She thinks you know something,’ I went on, ‘and she wants you to keep it-’

Again she shushed, peering at the doors around the hallway and up the stairs, her head making little pecking movements as she checked the corners and shadows.

‘Not here,’ she said, ‘but I will talk to you.’ She stepped very lightly across the floor and poked her head around a door, then, finding the room empty, she beckoned us and closed the door very softly behind us with one careful hand on the plate, shutting us all in.

It was another room very like the first I had seen at Roseville, with satiny little settees and gilt and white chairs and writing tables. Dulcie Hepburn rubbed the arm of her chair as she sat down and she smiled.

‘Fiona has a right way with a room,’ she said. ‘But it would never do Bob and me.’ She looked up at us again. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘No one will disturb us here. Bob would like burst in to see what was to do if I closed a door on him in his own house. He’s not a trusting man. Not easy in his own mind and it makes him restless. He always has to know what’s to do.’

‘We don’t want to pry, Mrs Hepburn,’ I said. ‘I just want to be able to assure Mary-’

‘Poor Mary,’ said Dulcie. ‘She was more sinned against than sinning, if you ask me. And if I can say it I don’t see who in the world should disagree.’

‘We know about her affair with your husband,’ I told her gently.

‘I don’t begrudge my husband any comforts,’ she said, and a swift look of pain flitted across her face and disappeared again. ‘We’ve not had our troubles to seek and he’s been very good to me. Stood by me and we have our son and our grandchildren. Still got our granddaughters even with Dougie gone. You can tell Mary Aitken her secret’s safe with me.’

‘I don’t think she meant that secret,’ I said.

‘No, I’m sure she didn’t,’ said Mrs Hepburn and she gave a small, knowing smile. I could not help myself. In fact, I did not even try.