she were to blame for the mishap—indeed, for all the mishaps. Not daring to perform any action so vulgar as sticking the injured digit in her mouth, Lady Dalton frowned further still as she pulled out her clean-white handkerchief to wipe off the bead of blood forming on her fingertip.

Lady Dalton sighed heavily over the state of her kerchief, not to mention her normally-flawless skin. "Inconsiderate!" She grumbled. "Now look what you've made me—"

"Where is Tom?" Agatha wasn't much interested in hearing out an accusation against her for something she very obviously did not do.

"Don't try to change the subject, Agatha Christine!"

A figure appeared in the doorway. "What's this about me?"

"Tom!" Agatha burst from her seat and fairly threw herself at her brother. The more she clung to his arms, the faster she could leave behind the terrible images of him lying somewhere with his head bashed in or his throat cut. "I was so worried about you! Where did you go?"

He squinted at her in confusion. "What do you mean? I only went for a walk around the grounds."

"Without telling anybody?" Lady Dalton rose from her chair with considerably more dignity than her daughter. "Thomas, there are criminals out there!"

Lord Dalton emerged through the dining room door at last, looking much more worn now than ever before. He glanced at each face before him.

"Oh, wonderful," he said in a dull voice. "You are all here." He directed his gaze toward his children. "Have a seat, Agatha, Thomas; there is something important you must know."

Lady Dalton moved forward to grasp her husband's arm. "Are we leaving Afton-By-The-Sea?"

Both siblings protested, "No!"

Lord Dalton shook his head. "No, the constable has asked that we remain here until the valuables are found and the thieves are dealt with. We will stay—but there is one thing I must ask of you all." He became very stern once more. "I have just been telling the servants that I am issuing a curfew for everyone in this house."

"Curfew?" protested Thomas.

"Everyone?" echoed Agatha.

Lord Dalton nodded. "All outings must end at ten o'clock. The servants will report to Mason where they intend to go and when they intend to return, so that we know where they are, and you two," he glanced between his children, "will report to Mother and I."

"Ten o'clock!" Tom grumbled. "That's not fair!"

Lord Dalton laced his fingers through those of his wife. "Only until the crime is solved; it would be safer that way."

Both siblings wilted at their dismal prospects.

"So much for a holiday," Tom grumbled, slouching on the sofa.

"You're one to talk," Agatha sighed grumpily. "I was looking forward to Lilly Montgomery's soirée, but now it looks like I shan't bother going to that if I can't stay!" She made mournful eyes at her father.

Dalton stroked his chin. "Inspector Tenney seemed to believe that someone in the house is responsible for conspiring with the thieves to permit them to steal our valuables." His keen eyes moved from daughter to son and back again. "Someone left the gate in the side yard unlocked, so the robbers could just walk in without alerting the groundskeeper. This case could be solved much faster if we only knew who that was."

"The gate? Good grief, Dad!" Agatha burst out, resting a hand on her forehead to check her churning emotions. "You don't think one of us did it?"

"What about the servants?" Tom demanded, more than a little affronted by the insinuation.

"Mason is making inquiries," Dalton allowed. "The police are satisfied that there isn't enough evidence to support the theory that he did it, so I have him on the watch downstairs to see if he can't find out who did."

"Oh this is awful!" Lady Dalton moaned. "Our whole holiday, ruined!"

"Yes," her husband murmured, "and every holiday after that, if Afton-by-the-Sea becomes a cesspool of all kinds of crime. Don't worry, my dear," he comforted his wife while his children sulked, "The police will sort this out, we'll get everything back, you'll see."

"Do you think it might have been someone who saw Tom and I shopping in town lately?" Agatha mused.

"Shut up!" Tom snapped at her, bounding suddenly to his feet. "Don't take that away from me, Miss Prudence! I still haven't got my glider, and hanged if I have to stay at home for the rest of the fortnight!" He stalked out of the room. Lady Dalton followed.

Agatha looked at her father, who sighed. "The truth of the matter is that it could very well be anybody," he said. "We never expected this sort of thing to happen, so we were never very careful about appearances.”

Agatha huffed and flounced back to her seat as her father took up the day’s newspaper. He cringed at the boisterous announcement of the robbery on the front page, and buried himself deep in the middle of it.

“I was never aware that we had left off worrying about appearances,” she grumbled softly.

Down in the kitchen, Pearl raced from door to door.

"Where's Mollie?" She asked Dot.

The laundress had spent a good deal longer than she liked being questioned by Mason about her movements on the night in question—as if he hadn't been responsible for half of them! And now, she was sadly behind on her duties. She didn't bother removing her hands from the big tub as she grumbled, "Don't know!" at Pearl.

Lady Dalton's chambermaid passed by at the end of the hallway and caught Pearl's question and Dot's comment.

"What ye lookin' fer Mollie about?" Gwen asked.

Pearl snorted. "Dummy! Because she ain't heard the new house rule yet! Mollie!" She sighed with relief as the mottled blue skirt swished around the corner. Mollie froze guiltily as Pearl darted after her. "Where have you been?"

Mollie hung her head and slumped her shoulders. "Errands," she muttered.

Pearl opened her mouth, but Mason's cutting voice sailed over her shoulder. "What the bloody hell are you running errands for? Are you daft? The master says we're to account for our whereabouts at all times."

Mollie actually brightened a bit

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