Late the next morning, Meg left the office on the pretext of delivering overdue bills to two of the executive dining room suppliers. She was in a post office with a telephone in hand by noon; the call was quickly put through.
Mary answered immediately, her voice thick.
“Mary! I don’t know what to say. We read the reports in the Telegraph and …”
“I don’t know what to say, either. My mother is devastated, as we all are. They haven’t released the body yet, but when they do, we can’t collect him—we’re not family.” She sighed deeply. “The funeral will be held at St Anne’s, where he was killed. It’s still so hard to believe.” Mary paused to collect herself. “Mr Carstairs was a great friend of the Dean of St Anne’s, who’s been kind to us. He telegrammed to tell us that he and Mr Carstairs’ sol
