The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. She had always wondered when they would start being able to trace her kills, with their expanding systems of criminal databases and computers, and now it was starting to happen. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her.
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