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Lady Amanda and Hugo had had barely an hour of peace and quiet in which to snatch forty-winks, when a shriek, as piercing as that of a banshee, suddenly shattered the silence of the house.
Lady Amanda awoke with a ‘Whaah!’ of surprise, only to find that she had dribbled all down her cardigan while she had been ‘resting her eyes’. Hugo, not so tired from the day’s exertions, as there hadn’t been any for him, was already up and heading for the door before she shook herself fully awake. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ she asked, rubbing discreetly at her front with her handkerchief.
The screaming carried on, occasionally interspersed with the long drawn-out wail of ‘Muuurdeeer!’
With Hugo now at her heels, having been overtaken, she sped towards the source of the distress calls, when Beauchamp suddenly appeared in front of her and uttered the words, ‘I’m sorry to inform you, my lady, that there is a body in the library. I’m afraid that one of your guests has been the victim of a murderous attack.’
Heading directly to the library, without stopping to pass ‘Go’ or collecting £200, Lady Amanda punched a fist in the air and called over her shoulder, ‘Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus![GR1] ’ Hugo, who had not watched the right films to explain what she was talking about, merely limped along in her wake, trying to summon up sufficient energy to keep up with her.
