myself back together as much as I could. I had some experience of murder, unfortunately, and the first thing I realized was that all these people in here were making a complete mess of the crime scene. I said to Rafe, “We should clear the room. The police won’t appreciate all these people in here.”

He nodded. Raised his voice. “Hugo? Why don’t we all adjourn to the dining room? Leave the scene for the police.”

Huge Percival Brown had taken one look at the body and turned pale but immediately rallied. “Yes, of course. Come along, everyone. There’s nothing we can do for her now.” He looked at his son. “Has anyone called the police?”

It seemed no one had, so Hugo said he’d make the call.

He was obviously a man used to making quick decisions and acting on them. Hugo ushered everyone out of the billiards room and told them all to go up to the dining room. Rafe said he’d remain behind to make sure no one else went in. It was too late to keep the crime scene uncontaminated, but at least he could prevent it from getting any more messed up.

Lochlan would have stayed behind, but Rafe told him to go on and quietly asked me to stay with him.

After the group of them had left us downstairs, I said to Rafe, “Why would anyone do that? And why put her body in that bizarre pattern?”

He shook his head. “It’s puzzling me, too. Why pose her like the emblem of the Knights of the Garter?”

I didn’t want to point the finger of blame at his friend, but I had to point out the obvious. “There is one Knight of the Garter here, you know.”

He glanced down at me. “And only three of us, four counting William, are aware of that fact.”

“Well, I know I didn’t kill her. I know William didn’t. And I’m guessing you didn’t. But what about Lochlan? Would he have any reason to kill Pamela?”

“And point the finger of blame at himself? Seems unlikely. He didn’t even know the girl.”

“Are we sure about that?”

Rafe’s brows drew together. “Not positive, no. But why would Lochlan Balfour, who lives in a castle in County Cork in Ireland, know a woman who recently came over from Boston?”

“I don’t know, but it’s amazing the connections people make with each other. Especially when they’ve been alive a really long time.” I thought about it. “Does he live like a rich recluse, or does he have a job or something?”

“Lochlan Balfour runs a very successful high-tech firm with offices all over the world.”

“Including Boston?”

“I see what you’re saying. He could have known her, I suppose, but I’ve known Lochlan Balfour a long time. No one gets to be a Knight of the Garter without great service to the Crown.”

“What do the Garter Knights really stand for?”

He paused before speaking. I liked the way that Rafe did that. He wasn’t one to throw out an opinion rapidly. He liked to gather his thoughts, so I always knew what he was saying wasn’t off the top of his head or random. “The Garter Knights’ primary role is protecting and supporting the monarch. They’re known for sacrificing themselves for others. They stand for chivalry.”

“I understand that, but the world’s changed in seven hundred years. I mean, people used to go on crusades and kill all sorts of people back in the middle ages. Maybe Lochlan hasn’t moved on.”

“You think he killed her as part of a crusade?”

“Maybe she offended his sense of chivalry. Or someone’s making a cruel joke about the fact that today is St. George’s Day.”

“Let me talk to him. In the meantime, don’t say anything to the police.”

Oh, as if I would. I was so used to hiding things from the Oxford CID, I’d go to jail just for that if they ever discovered all my secrets. Mind you, since my secrets were generally of the supernatural kind, I doubted the Oxford police would believe me anyway.

“If it’s not Lochlan Balfour, then who would do that?”

“An excellent question.”

I had another one. “What do you think the chances are that somebody came in from outside this house and murdered Pamela?”

He appeared to give my random theory some thought. “I would say it’s possible but unlikely.”

I nodded. That was my feeling exactly. “That means that the killer is in this house now. It’s somebody in the Gargoyle Club.”

“Since I would vouch for William, you and Violet, I suspect you’re right, Lucy.”

There was a commotion upstairs, and then, inevitably, DI Ian Chisholm and DS Barnes came down the stairs and toward us. Hugo was with them, leading the way.

Ian looked at me, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Lucy. May I ask what you’re doing here?”

I motioned to my white blouse and black skirt, not that they really made anything obvious. “I was waitressing.”

He looked as though he had trouble believing me. “Moonlighting from the knitting shop? Are knitting sales down? Have people stopped crocheting?”

I really didn’t appreciate the sarcasm, especially in front of Hugo and Rafe. “No. But the caterer’s a friend, and I’ve waitressed for him a few times. It makes me a little extra money, and I enjoy doing it.”

He shook his head. “You do get into the most extraordinary situations.”

He could say that again.

He looked at my companion, who didn’t get off easy either. “And Rafe Crosyer. Are you waitressing too?”

To Rafe’s credit, he didn’t go all vampire on Ian’s ass. “I’m not. I was dining with Hugo.”

“And you’re all wearing your fancy dress, I see. The Gargoyle Club outfit. Believe me, I recognize it. I thought that club had been banned from Oxford.”

“The Gargoyle Club was never an official part of Oxford. It’s always been a private gentlemen’s club.”

“My mistake. Banned from the grounds of Cardinal College then.”

Rafe and Hugo exchanged a glance, and their silence pretty much confirmed what Ian already knew.

I heard more footsteps coming down the stairs, and soon we were joined by paramedics.

Hugo unlocked the billiards

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