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mixed up … don’t know what I’m doing half the time!’
    ‘What else can you tell us about this man? Lacey asked.
    ‘All I know is that Alice says she loves him … and then, this week, well, she shows all the signs of being … well, with child !
    Lord George took a sip of his whisky and then, waving Perch to sit down again, he spoke with care, in his most judicious manner. ‘I’m afraid that there is no Lord Lenisham. Lord Albert died two years ago, and he had no family … no sons, no heir. Very sad. It seems that you have been the victim of a fraud. This bounder who charmed your daughter, he’s most likely a seasoned rogue. If you could give us a description we may be able to help. Eh Lacey?’
    ‘Well, let me see,’ Perch blustered, ‘I gather he’s short, rather rotund … smokes cigars and … he has wavy blonde hair and, oh my God!’ A look of horror filled his face. He had suddenly had some kind of epiphany, and it wasn’t a good one.
    ‘Oh my dear Lord Lenham-Cawde … the crook may be at my home now! The place is empty now … as we speak. My daughter Alice is with her aunt in Oxford, as she is ill!’
    Lacey asked, ‘Surely he can’t get in?’
    ‘Would he have a reason to get in?’ Lord George asked. ‘I mean … are you a particularly wealthy man Mr Perch? One hates to mention money, but in this case it seems to apply.’
    ‘Well, yes … I mean, I’m retired from my hotel business. I own a hotel by the sea … the Calsworth … and well, I live a quiet life really.’
    Lacey stepped in with a direct question, ‘Do you keep money at home?’
    Perch was visibly sweating now and he took out a handkerchief and dabbed his forehead with it, mumbling a mix of laments and curses. Then he said, ‘Well, no, very little … but I do have … oh no! My collection of guns. He wouldn’t! I have a very valuable collection of pistols…. I have a room full of Parkers … of Holborn, you know? I have around forty of them … and some rare duelling pistols too. Been collecting them since I was twenty, forty-odd years ago now. He wouldn’t be after those surely?’
    Lord George spoke, even as he picked up his coat from the stand, ‘Parkers? I know the ones. He may be more than a cad … he may be out for something else. What about your servants? Are they at home?’
    ‘No … I have none living in, and I am a widower. Two local ladies do all the cleaning. I don’t live a grand life, as I say. No butlers or anything grand!’
    ‘There’s no time to be lost,’ declared Lord George. ‘Let’s get to Richmond … Lacey, have Smythe call a cab, now!’

    Seconds after arriving at Shering House, Richmond, all three men were standing in a small ante-room of Mr Perch’s home, beside the spacious library, surrounded by cabinets, displays and wall-mounted cases containing weapons of all kinds. Nothing appeared to have been touched or disturbed.
    ‘Well, there are no signs of a forced entry, Mr Perch. It appears that all is well,’ Professor Lacey said, tapping the glass top of a long display case. ‘Your home is indeed, it appears, your castle!’
    ‘Yes, thanks to providence eh?’ Charles Perch sighed and offered his guests a drink. ‘Please take a seat … here, gentlemen, please.’ He motioned to a comfortable sofa and then fetched drinks from the corner. Lacey glanced along the shelves, noting the rare sets of eighteenth-century works, and a few of what appeared to be beautiful solid folios of topography in a special collection.
    ‘You have a marvellous collection, Mr Perch,’ he said, accepting the proffered whisky.
    ‘Yes. I’m very fond of Dr Johnson and his circle. I collect them quite, what should I say … avidly.’
    Lord George stretched out his long legs and looked around the room. Unlike Lacey, he had no interest in the books and furniture. What he saw was the small detail, and there was one of these which he disliked. ‘Oh dear … Mr Perch, I fear you have not noticed that