Madoc and Sir Caradoc were coming down the hill, very slowly. The old man was leaning heavily on the cane he often carried but seldom made much use of. Sir Emlyn and Lady Rhys fell back to walk with him, keeping the baby with them, Madoc came on ahead to meet Janet. “Anything happening, love?” “Lisa’s invited us to lunch, but I said you were probably going to be busy. Is that right?” “Yes, you go along without me.” He’d save the story of the ram for when they had time to talk, if ever. “I need to search the house, and I’d like to dust that green box you found in Mary’s fireplace for fingerprints. I’m guessing it will be bare as a baby’s bum and turn out never to have held more than that one pinch of gunpowder.” “Then what was the point of putting it there?” “Good question. The house was wide open all day yesterday, there were scads of people around, and you say Mary never went back to her room. Anybody or his uncle could have planted the box.” “Anybody who knew which room was Mary’s, and knew she was going to get blown up,”
