“Yes,” the footman said with a yawn.

“How is he?”

“Still unconscious. He’s breathing. One of the maids is with him now.” He took a step to move on, his eyelids drooping.

“Could you wake Lord Harwin? We have a body in the garden.”

The footman stared at me for a moment, groaned, and then hurried over to a door and tapped on it. When that didn’t bring a response, he tapped harder. A sleepy grumble could be heard.

The footman walked in and I followed as Lord Harwin sat up in bed. Seeing me, he quickly threw a robe over his striped pajamas. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a dead body in the garden,” I said.

Lord Harwin gawked at me as if I’d grown a second head.

“Baron von Steubfeld and the Duke of Blackford are guarding it until the police are summoned.”

“You’d think these people would have better manners than to kill each other off in my garden. I’ll be right there.” His lordship stuffed his feet into slippers and rose, belting his robe as he crossed the room.

I ran downstairs again, planning to go out to the two men. Instead, I began to move around, checking room by room, looking for anything out of place. Anything that might tell me where the drawings were.

There were too many hiding places. Chests, bookshelves, drawers in the servers. I’d have to turn on the lights and start searching room by room. Or get the duke or Lord Harwin to order it.

I went out onto the terrace and began to try the other doors into the house, watched by the duke and von Steubfeld. The doors to the ladies’ parlor and the red parlor were still locked. I went the other direction past the two men and tried the first door on the other side. It opened easily. I stuck my head inside and didn’t recognize the room.

“What is this?”

“The smoking room.”

I’d check this as the most likely room in which to hide the plans as soon as Lord Harwin or the police took over watching the crime scene. The killer I’d followed hadn’t had much time to snap Snelling’s neck and get back into the house before I came out.

I walked back to Blackford and told him my suspicions. “If he hasn’t run into the village instead,” was his reply.

“Then someone will be missing from the house, and that will be easy to discover.”

“Could it be Lady Bennett, Baron?”

He looked at me and laughed. “Good heavens, no. I don’t trust her, but I’m sure she is only out for the pleasure of being seen at the best parties. And I only use her for—social occasions and gossip.”

“Was she out for pleasure in breaking Clara Gattenger’s heart by telling her another woman’s secret?” I asked. “You did ask Lady Bennett to tell Mrs. Gattenger, didn’t you?”

The baron frowned but did not reply.

Blackford said, “What is this?”

“The reason there was a fire in the Gattenger study the day Clara was killed. The baron told Lady Bennett of Gattenger’s secret the same day Gattenger took the new warship plans out of the Admiralty. It turns out that both times their engagement was called off, Ken Gattenger had an affair. Lady Bennett immediately told Clara Gattenger what the baron told her. Clara insisted on facing the woman and demanding any love letters or trinkets her husband had given the woman. She took them home and burned them.” I stared angrily at the baron.

“Von Steubfeld, is this true?” The duke employed his most commanding tone.

“Yes. I thought it would keep the Gattengers out of the study that evening, allowing Snelling to get in and take the blueprints. Regretfully, it didn’t work.” He shrugged.

I wanted to punch him for being so callous. “The baron told Lady Bennett that delivering bad news was her payment for dancing with the devil.”

Blackford winced.

“What’s more, Your Grace, I’ve been told Lady Bennett was trying to get her hands on the blueprints Snelling possessed.” I glared at the baron.

“Lady Bennett was trying to get the ship blueprints for herself? That’s impossible.” The baron laughed. “Lady Bennett understands clothes and manners and decorating. She wouldn’t know what a blueprint looked like.”

“We’re going to need to search every inch of this house to find the blueprints. You can refuse on diplomatic grounds, von Steubfeld, for your luggage and wardrobe to be searched, but I ask that you agree. It will make it difficult for anyone else to object,” Blackford said.

“And therefore easier to find the person who cheated me.” The baron smiled with a look that made me shiver. He was already planning revenge. “Very well. I agree.”

Lord Harwin arrived accompanied by the footman I’d spoken to earlier. The weary footman was ordered to send someone into town to carry a message to the police station and to bring back the doctor. He shuffled off, head bowed. Then Harwin went inside to wake his staff and his wife.

The baron, Blackford, and I went into the house when a second footman came to stand watch over the body. I glanced back to see the young man gaze nervously over his shoulder and then look longingly at the house. The baron went upstairs, presumably to tell his valet the bad news. After a few minutes, sleepy-eyed members of the staff were fanning out throughout the main floor with their morning duties, lighting gas lamps as they plumped cushions and dusted and swept. The dining room was prepared for an early breakfast.

I guessed Lord Harwin had warned his servants that the police would soon arrive and some of the guests would either be disturbed out of their rest or would come downstairs out of curiosity.

“I think we should check the smoking room. It’s the most likely place for someone to have reentered the house.” I started in that direction.

“Why not the ladies’ parlor? It’s as close to the entrance where the body was found as the smoking parlor.”

“Because, Your Grace, Lady Bennett could have known what the baron was up to and wanted to get there first. She could name her own price for those blueprints with half a dozen countries, including ours. And she would know, like I do, that the parlor door to the terrace was locked and bolted tonight by the butler when everyone went to bed. Lord Harwin had given specific instructions in front of everyone after Sir Henry was attacked in the garden. That door is still bolted, and I found the smoking parlor door unlocked.”

“Your Grace,” Lady Harwin called from the foot of the stairs.

He walked over to talk to her, and I went into the smoking room. The gaslights were now lit, and I could easily see there was no bolt on this door. The key was on a table a few feet from the door.

“Does my lady require anything?” The man’s voice made me jump.

I swung around to find myself facing the butler. “Was this door locked last night?”

“I’m sure it was. I asked the gentlemen still in here when the rest of the guests had retired to lock this door.”

“Who were these gentlemen?”

“Baron von Steubfeld and the Bishop of Wellston.”

I immediately eliminated the Anglican bishop from espionage. The baron could have pretended to lock up, leaving it open for a meeting with Snelling. A meeting someone disrupted.

“Thank you.” I gave a gracious nod and turned back to my study of the room.

His footsteps barely made a sound as he walked away.

There was a small chest against the side of the room. I carefully opened the dry leather clasps of the old trunk. Empty. There was a server with several drawers. The only thing I managed to do was wrinkle the linens stored there and shuffle the paper and ink bottles. I looked under chairs and tables. Nothing lurked between the furniture legs.

I was about to give up in disgust when I looked at the top of the server and a table that ran behind the sofa in the direct path from the terrace to the hallway. Various boxes of cigars were scattered around. Boxes large enough to hold the papers we sought.

One after another, I reached into the painted wooden boxes to make certain they contained only cigars. Finally, I put my hand in one and hit something that was too bulky to be cigars under a single layer of Havana’s finest. I dumped the cigars on the tabletop and found blueprint paper underneath.