“Private-inquiry agents. Never heard of such a thing.”

“As it happens, you may be able to assist me in my investigation, madam,” Lavinia said. You were no doubt acquainted with Fullerton. He was approximately the same age as yourself. You must have known him since the days when you were first brought out. Can you think of anyone who might have had a reason to kill him?”

Lady Huxford stared at her in stunned shock.

“You are quite mad,” she whispered hoarsely.

Lavinia turned to Lady Ferring. “You know, madam, when one considers the matter, one sees a marked similarity in the deaths of both Fullerton and Lady Rowland, don’t you agree? I must make a note to discover what they had in common. I wonder if the motives for the murder were the same in both instances. Something to do with altering plans for a wedding, perhaps.”

Lady Ferring’s eyes widened. “I have no notion of what you are talking about. This is the most ridiculous chatter I have ever heard.

“Lady Huxford is right, you are, indeed, a candidate for Bedlam, Mrs. Lake.”

“I have had quite enough of this lunatic, Sally.” Lady Huxford was on her feet, crumpling her napkin with one gloved hand. She seized her cane with the other. “I do not intend to eat in such company. Let us be off.”

“I quite agree.” Lady Ferring gripped an ebony walking stick with both hands and levered herself to her feet. She glared about with a ferocious expression. “Daniels? Where are you? We’re leaving.”

“Aye, madam.” A harried-looking footman hurried forward to take her arm.

Another man in different livery followed quickly. He took hold of Lady Huxford’s elbow. “Sorry, madam. Didn’t realize that you wanted to leave so soon.”

“The quality of the company is not what it should be,” Lady Huxford declared. “Quite intolerable.”

The two footmen prepared to escort their employers back through the maze of supper boxes.

Joan watched the slow progress with a mix of amusement and dismay.

“I thought you intended to question them with great subtlety,” she murmured.

“Bah, I saw immediately that subtlety would achieve nothing with those two.” Lavinia looked at her across the table. “I decided to rattle their nerves instead. Tobias assures me that making suspects anxious sometimes results in them giving themselves away.”

Joan eyed the departing ladies. “I cannot say if they are rattled, but they do seem to be quite annoyed.”

“Either way, perhaps they will grow careless and make some move that will provide us with a clue.”

“Assuming they are guilty.”

“Now that I have met them, I am certain they are both quite capable of hiring a killer if they thought it would achieve their ends.”

“It is certainly true that it would be extremely unwise to get between those two and whatever they happened to covet,” Joan agreed.

“I do not doubt that for a moment.” Lavinia turned around to glance at Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring.

The progress of the two women was quite slow, almost stately.

They had not gone far.

Lavinia stared at the backs of the voluminous silver-gray wigs.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Joan followed her gaze, frowning. “Is something amiss?”

“Their chignons.”

Joan peered at the two elegantly styled hairpieces. “They are certainly quite elaborate, are they not? What about them?”

“They’re identical in design. Do you see the little rows of curls at the top of the upper portion and the manner in which the lower section is twisted around a braided coil?”

“Yes, but what of it?”

At that moment the music swelled, the lights in the trees dimmed as though by magic, and a series of crackles and explosions announced the start of the fireworks display.

Sparkling showers of fire filled the night sky. The crowds oohed and aahed. A roar of applause went up.

“The hairdresser,” Lavinia said.

“What?” Joan raised her voice to be heard above the din. “I cannot hear you.”

“The same hairdresser did both wigs,” Lavinia shouted back.

“That is hardly a surprise. It is obvious that the same dressmaker designed both of their gowns. I told you, Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring have been close friends for years. Why would they not share a dressmaker and a hairdresser?”

“You don’t understand,” Lavinia yelled above the uproar. The hairdresser who did those two wigs was the same one who accompanied Mrs. Oakes to Beaumont Castle. He styled her false hair in precisely the same manner for the costume ball. He told me that the row of curls at the top of the chignon and the loop around the coil are his signature.”

“What are you implying?”

“Don’t you see? The hairdresser is the Memento-Mori Man.”

Tobias came down the steps of his town house in two long strides.

The great sweep of the high-collared coat he wore over his dark shirt and trousers gave him the appearance of a thoroughly menacing highwayman.

One of Joan’s liveried footmen hastened to open the door of the maroon carriage. In spite of his bad leg, Tobias did not wait for the step to be lowered. He grabbed the handhold on the side of the opening and hauled himself up into the softly lit interior of the cab. He sat down beside Lavinia and looked first at her and then at Joan.

“What the devil is this about?” he asked. “I was just about to leave to visit Jack at the Gryphon. He thinks he may have found someone who knows something about Zachary Elland.”

“Lavinia is convinced that she has just identified the Memento

“Mori Man,” Joan said.

“Tobias turned his highwayman’s gaze on Lavinia. You mean to say that you actually learned something useful at Vauxhall tonight?”

“You need not sound so astounded, sir.” She drew herself up in the seat. “I told you that it would pay for me to question Lady Huxford and Lady Ferring, and I was right. I believe that the hairdresser who traveled to Beaumont Castle with Lady Oakes may be the murderer-for-hire whom we are seeking.”

To his credit, Tobias did not immediately reject the possibility.

Then again, she reflected, he was desperate for clues.

“Are you referring to that fool who told you red hair was unfashionable?” he asked warily.

“He is one of many who have pointed that out to me recently, but, yes, I am talking about Mr. Pierce. You will recall that he dressed Lady Oakes’s wig with an extremely elaborate chignon.” Lavinia touched the back of her head. “Lots of little curls and a braided coil?”

She used her finger to trace the design in the air. “It was a very unusual creation.”

“I have no recollection whatsoever of Lady Oakes’s headdress.”

“The thing is, Tobias, I got a close look at Lady Huxford’s and Lady Ferring’s chignons this evening when they left the supper box.

“Both were wearing wigs and both of their headdresses were identical to the one Lady Oakes wore at Beaumont Castle.”

“What of it?”

“Really, sir, were you not paying attention when we interviewed the wig-maker, Mr. Cork, and his associate, Mr. Todd? They made it quite clear that a fashionable hairdresser takes great pride in creating his own unique designs. Mr. Todd emphasized that he considered his chignons his signature.”

Tobias looked at Joan as though seeking assistance. She moved one shoulder in an elegant little shrug.

“I tried to tell her that it could, indeed, be a coincidence,” Joan said. “But the more I consider the matter, the less I am inclined to believe that myself. It is, indeed, quite odd that the hairdresser who created coiffeurs for the two women we believe hired the killer was also at Beaumont Castle the night of Fullerton’s death.”

Lavinia watched Tobias’s face closely. She could see that he was not entirely convinced but he was considering the possibilities closely. “It would explain a great deal about this case,” she said persuasively.