William frowned and said, ‘My cousins tell me there was a wasps’ nest outside the office window last summer – some cyanide was bought to deal with it.’

Miss Silver gave a reproving cough.

‘There should be more restraint upon the sale of these dangerous poisons. Procedure is at present sadly lax. A great deal of crime would be avoided if the means were not to hand. Miss Jones probably had no evil intentions when she put the surplus cyanide away. She may have forgotten that she had done so. She may have come across it by accident, or she may have remembered it – we have no means of knowing. But if she had not had this poison ready to her hand she might not have resolved upon this last, most ruthless crime which would rid her of Mr. William Eversley and of Emily Salt by a single stroke and leave her, as she supposed, in a position of complete security.’ She paused for a moment and sighed. ‘The triumphing of the wicked is short. It is all very sad, very regrettable, but I think we now know how it happened. As I said before, some excellent work has been done. I trust that Chief Detective Inspector Lamb is aware of how much I have valued his very kind cooperation.’

Frank Abbott bent over the fire, poker in hand, his face not quite under control. He had a picture of Lamb with empurpled cheeks and bulging eyes being graciously thanked for his co-operation. Maudie was marvellous – she really was. From her moralizings to her quotations from the moderns (!), from her strict hair-net to the toes of her beaded shoes, she was unique and he adored her. Her reproving cough came to his ears.

‘My dear Frank, you are really spoiling the fire. It did very well as it was.’

William and Katharine walked home together. Curious how quickly a place could become home when you were happy there. This wasn’t Carol’s flat any more – it was theirs, it was home. Because wherever they were together would be home. Coming into it with Katharine, William got the feeling he had always had when he came into the house in his dream – the feeling of safety, the feeling of something shared, the feeling of home. He couldn’t put it into words. He could only put his arms round Katharine and hold her close.

Born in Mussoorie, India, in 1878, Patricia Wentworth was the daughter of an English general. Educated in England, she returned to India, where she began to write and was first published. She married, but in 1906 was left a widow with four children, and returned again to England where she resumed her writing, this time to earn a living for herself and her family. She married again in 1920 and lived in Surrey until her death in 1961.

Miss Wentworth’s early works were mainly historical fiction, and her first mystery, published in 1923, was The Astonishing Adventure of Jane Smith. In 1928 she wrote The Case Is Closed and gave birth to her most enduring creation, Miss Maud Silver.