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“Now I think,” said Sir Alastair, “we’ve kept Phillips away from his duties long enough.” He turned to the butler. “You can go.”

There was no point questioning Phillips further. It was clear he would say whatever Sir Alastair wanted.

When Phillips had returned to his work, Sir Alastair said, “Why do I have the feeling you knew about McEwen’s feelings for my wife?” I opened my mouth to reply but he made a dismissive gesture. “There’s no need to answer. We both know the truth. Why don’t we cut to the chase, Ms. Fairweather? You want to know whether Justina or I have any involvement with the paranormal.”

“Do you?”

He smiled. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “You’ve probably heard the rumor that Justina is a witch. I can assure you the only bewitching she has done is on my poor heart.” He covered the left side of his chest with his hand. The theatricality of his gesture made me want to puke. With an effort I reminded myself that just because he was slimy didn’t mean he had anything to do with McEwen’s death.

Deciding it was time to question Lady Justina, I suggested she join us.

Sir Alastair seemed surprised by my request but he recovered quickly.

“I’m afraid my wife is not available at the moment.”

“We’ll wait,” I said.

“You might be waiting a very long time. My wife is unwell.” Abruptly, he changed the subject. “More tea?”

Stalling for time, I accepted another cup. Maybe Lady Justina would appear, miraculously cured of whatever ailed her. Of course I didn’t really believe that would happen, just as I didn’t believe she was really ill.

As I saw it, there were two possibilities. Either Lady Justina didn’t want to talk to us and had persuaded her husband to lie. Or, and this was much more likely, Sir Alastair didn’t want us to talk to her.

I glanced at Casper. He had remained quiet so far, watching and listening. I’m sure he knew much more than I did but he could do nothing to help me guess the truth. I hoped, as I often did, that something in his expression might lead me in the right direction. To date he had never betrayed a thing. But a girl can hope, right?

Wrong.

Casper was giving nothing away. His gorgeous green and amber eyes betrayed sympathy for my situation but little else. He gave me a smile that said more clearly than words: Sorry. I can’t give you any clues.

Accepting the inevitable, I sipped my tea. I had drunk enough to sink a battleship but I battled valiantly on. By the time I had finished this cup I would genuinely need the bathroom. Even someone as secretive as Sir Alastair couldn’t deny me the use of his facilities. I smiled to myself at the thought of seeing a little more of this stately home than my host had intended.

I forced down the last mouthful of tea and returned my cup and saucer to the silver tray.

“We won’t take up any more of your time, Sir Alastair.” Did I imagine it or did he appear relieved? “Before we leave,” I continued, “can I use your bathroom?”

“Do you want to have a bath?” he asked. “Oh, you Americans. You mean the lavatory. The toilet.”

Smartass.

“That’s right.” I forced a smile. “I want to use the john. The can. Or, as my Australian father would say, the dunny.”

Sir Alastair sneered. “Ah yes, my investigator told me your father was Australian.” Apparently, in his mind, this was even worse than being American. I tried not to show my annoyance. For a moment I thought I’d succeeded, then I realized that not only did Sir Alastair know I was annoyed, he was enjoying it. Trying to provoke me further, he leaned back, steepled his fingers, and said, “So your father’s descended from convicts, is he?”

This wasn’t the moment to reveal that Dad had been inordinately proud of his convict heritage. His great, great (I’ve forgotten how many greats exactly) grandmother had been transported to Australia for stealing. She had arrived with the First Fleet which, as Dad explained it, was the Australian felons’ equivalent of arriving on the Mayflower.

I glanced at Sir Alastair. No, this definitely wasn’t the moment to reveal my convict ancestor.

“Could I please use your toilet, Sir Alastair?