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this?”
    Roderick seemed to find the question somewhat insulting. “I have been Mr. Devries’s valet for thirty-two years. I know everything about him.”
    So much for his claim that Devries kept his own counsel. “When did he get home this morning?”
    “He came in around nine, I believe. He wanted a bath and a shave. He always does when he returns from visiting Miss English.”
    “Did you help him with his bath?”
    He acted insulted again. “I always help him.”
    “I’m just trying to find out if you noticed a wound on his back.”
    Roderick frowned. “Where would it have been located?”
    Frank half turned and reached around to touch his thumb to the approximate spot on his own back. “Like I said, it was small.”
    “I didn’t notice anything, but …”
    “But what?”
    “He might have put some sticking plaster on it, mightn’t he? To keep it from bleeding? That could be why I didn’t notice.”
    Roderick seemed very eager to implicate the mistress. “Is this Miss English the kind of girl who might stick a knife into Mr. Devries?”
    “She’s the kind of girl who might do anything.”
    Frank considered this information for a long moment. “Does Mrs. Devries know about Miss English?”
    “Ladies of Mrs. Devries’s station make a point of ignoring women like Miss English.”
    “So you think she knows but has decided not to make a fuss.”
    “I believe that would be an accurate assumption, yes.”
    “Do Mr. and Mrs. Devries get along?”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “I mean, do they fight?”
    “Certainly not.”
    “At least not where the help can hear.”
    Roderick winced. “The staff can hear everything. They simply don’t speak to each other as a general rule. At least, Mr. Devries tries to avoid speaking with her whenever possible.”
    “Is it usually possible?”
    “Mrs. Devries occasionally attempts to have a conversation with her husband.”
    “Did she attempt to have a conversation with him this morning?”
    Roderick hesitated, and Frank figured he was trying to decide whether to lie or not. “I believe she did,” he said finally.
    “Did anyone else have a conversation with him?”
    Roderick rubbed his palms along his thighs, as if to dry them. “Mr. Paul Devries sought him out as well, I believe.”
    “Any idea what they talked about?”
    “No.”
    Roderick had just told him the staff heard everything, but Frank let the lie pass for now. Paul Devries would probably admit it himself. He didn’t look like a very good liar. “Mr. Devries had a busy morning. Did he meet with anybody else? Any visitors, maybe?”
    “No one came to the house. This house, I mean. The only other people he would have seen are the other staff members, but none of them had a reason to attack Mr. Devries, and if one of them had, he surely would have raised an alarm.”
    Just like he would’ve raised an alarm if somebody had stabbed him at the club. “What about his daughter-in-law?”
    An emotion flickered across Roderick’s face too quickly for Frank to identify. “Why do you ask about her?”
    “I’m just being thorough. Perhaps she noticed something. Did she see Mr. Devries that morning?”
    “I have no idea. She may have.”
    Another lie. Frank was sure of it. He wanted to ask if Garnet Devries was the kind of girl who might stick a knife in Mr. Devries, but Roderick would probably lie about that, too, if he didn’t die of shock at the suggestion. “Did Mr. Devries get along with his daughter-in-law?”
    “I’m sure they had a very cordial relationship.”
    “I thought you knew everything about him.”
    Roderick flushed again. “They were always civil to each other in my presence.”
    Civil. An interesting description. In his experience, people who were civil to each other were trying to hide stronger emotions,and Garnet Devries had seemed to enjoy the news that her father-in-law was dead.
    He wondered how good a liar she would be.
    “Let me get this straight now. Mr. Devries