Chapter 75
The inspector’s pencil hovers over the page. His eyes flick from Ann’s face to the sudden hand-holding. He smiles warmly. “The smallest detail might be the biggest of clues. No need for shyness.” “Have you any suspects?” I ask. Inspector Kent holds my gaze for a second longer than is comfortable. “No. But that gives credence to my theory that these men, under the bottle’s spell, wandered away from the camp to sleep it off and then, fearing the foreman’s wrath, decided to leave altogether. Or perhaps it is an effort to bring suspicion on the Gypsies.” “Perhaps it is the Gypsies,” Felicity adds quickly. I should like to kick her. “That would be convenient,” the inspector says, stirring milk into his tea. “Too convenient, perhaps, though I did see that one of theirs was missing this eveni
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