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was too late! Quick, take your medicine and then I’ll explain.’
    She held out the brown bottle to Dorothy, who shook her head.
    ‘It’s eased again.’
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘I’ll keep it until I really need it. What were you saying about being wrong?’
    Rosemary leant forward and regarded Dorothy earnestly.
    ‘Our fundamental mistake all along has been to assume that there was a logical motive for each of the murders which have taken place so far,’ she said. ‘We’ve taken it for granted that Roland Ayres and Hilary Bryant were killed for revenge, or for their money, or to silence them. Now a third member of our little group, George Channing, has become the target of a seemingly senseless act of …’
    Dorothy twisted impatiently in her chair.
    ‘Why is Dr Morel taking so long, Rose?’ she broke out. ‘Don’t they know how hard this is for me? Why can’t they just tell me and have done?’
    ‘Pull yourself together, Dorothy Davenport!’ snapped Rosemary. ‘We’re facing a ruthless and cunning killer who has already struck three times, and while I don’t yet know who he – or she – may be, I do know the identity of his – or her – next victim.’
    Dorothy smiled wanly.
    ‘Can you save him, Rose?’
    ‘Her.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘You.’
    Dorothy’s eyes widened.
    ‘Me?’
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ Rosemary sighed. ‘Try and be brave.’
    ‘But …’
    ‘It came to me in a flash while I was upstairs. I was thinking of what happened when we had tea. Do you remember? Belinda Scott was annoyed because of something that happened when you were outside the room, so she insisted on serving the tea in strict alphabetical order …’
    ‘But you had to wait until the end, even though you were getting my tea too. I didn’t think that was fair, Rose. You shouldn’t have stood for it! If I’d been you, I’d have …’
    ‘That isn’t the point!’ hissed Rosemary. ‘The names of the victims so far are Ayres, Bryant and Channing. Now do you understand? The killer is eliminating the residents in alphabetical order. Which means that you will be the next victim!’
    Dorothy tut-tutted.
    ‘Come on, Rose!’ she exclaimed with a toss of the head. ‘This simply won’t do. It sounds like one of those awful American books about some maniac who goes about chopping up total strangers with an axe because he had an unhappy childhood. Not my cup of tea at all, I’m afraid. Life is quite horrible enough as it is, I should have thought, without scaring oneself silly with such rubbish.’
    Rosemary smiled in a superior way.
    ‘That’s precisely what the killer wants us to believe. The plan – and I’m bound to say it’s a very clever one – is to create the impression that these killings are indeed the work of some distasteful psychopath such as you describe, whereas in reality all except one are simply red herrings designed to obscure the identity of the murderer’s true target.’
    Dorothy’s eyes narrowed. She gave her friend a suspicious look.
    ‘Wait a minute,’ she said. ‘This has been used before, hasn’t it?’
    ‘Are you accusing me of plagiarism?’ snapped Rosemary.
    ‘Of course not, Rose. It’s just that, well, it has a familiar ring to it.’
    ‘This is no time to discuss the finer points of the genre, Dot! Every minute you remain here you are in the most terrible danger. This very night might be your last! We must get you out of here at all costs.’
    ‘Don’t be silly! No one’s ever managed that. Look what happened to Channing.’
    Rosemary clasped her friend’s hand and smiled confidently.
    ‘We’ll think of a way.’
    Dorothy shook her head.
    ‘Anyway, why should anyone want to kill me? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t like it when things don’t make sense, Rose. And I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you. I’m sure you must be mistaken about this. After all, we’re the detectives. The detectives never come to any harm, do they?’
    The door banged open