Alex was sat, sprawled across three chairs he had pushed together, next to the fireplace in the bedroom that Charles was currently using as a study, whilst the real study, on the ground floor, was being renovated.

“Do you think, perhaps, you may have a little too much furniture in this house Charles?”

“Alex, the point has been raised by others and I have noted that point. I wasn’t going to let the new owners get all the bloody stuff for free.” Charles responded, snipping the end of two cigars as he did so.

He passed one to Alex.

“So what do you think of D.I Deacon?”

“Charles are you asking me to assess him as a police officer, or are you asking me whether I think he is going to find out anything about the disappearance of the old Duke’s companion? This so called ‘Pale Clara’.” Alex grinned around his cigar.

“Oh Christ, don’t you start.”

“Well both you and Kath have told me the story of that New Years Eve.”

“Yes, but we were very and I mean very drunk. You can’t honestly believe that father locked some poor woman in the attic can you?!” Charles exclaimed.