"How will we know which room Ringcross was in when he died?"

"I had my valet make a few discreet inquiries among the servants earlier," Sebastian explained. "One of them told him it was the room in the south tower."

"It's quite chilly up here." Prudence rubbed her arms briskly as they walked toward the south wine of the sprawlitie castle.

"Curling said this floor was never used. No point wasting heat on it."

"If this floor is never occupied, what was Ringcross doing up here the night he died?" Prudence asked.

"A very good question, my dear." Sebastian paused in front of a closed door at the end of the hall. "This must be the chamber."

Prudence tried the doorknob. "It's locked."

"I'll take care of it. Here, hold the candle."

Prudence took the candle from him. She watched in admiration as Sebastian removed a short length of metal from his sleeve. He in­serted it cautiously into the lock.

"Open for me, sweet," Sebastian whispered to the lock. "That's it, darling, let me inside. Give me what I want. Ah, yes. That's right. That's what I need. Beautiful."

There was a tiny click. Sebastian turned the doorknob and opened the door. The hinges squeaked eerily.

Prudence was impressed. "Very clever, my lord."

He smiled faintly as he moved into the room. "Thank you, my dear. It is always pleasant to have one's small accomplishments appre­ciated."

"You must teach me how to do that," Prudence said.

"I'm not certain that is a sound notion. If I teach you all my tricks, you might decide you no longer need me."

"Nonsense." Prudence started to follow him into the dark cham­ber. "We are a team, my lord. We must share our expertise with each— Good heavens." She gasped as a wave of deep, unrelenting cold swept through her.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian asked from the shadows.

"I don't knpw." Prudence glanced at the candle in her hand, fully expecting to see that it had gone out. But the flame still burned. "It's freezing cold in here."

"No colder than it is out in the hall."

"It feels much colder- to me." She raised the candle and gazed around the chamber.

The furnishings were limited to a strange-looking bed with iron posts, a massive wardrobe, a table, and heavy drapes covering the windows.

"Everything is in black," Prudence whispered in awe. "The drapes, the bedclothes, the carpet. Everything." She raised the candle higher and peered at two lengths of chain that dangled from the wall. "What on earth are those things?"

Sebastian walked across the room and examined the chains. "Man­acles."

"Good heavens. How very odd. Do you suppose this was once a dungeon?"

"No. Dungeons are usually built at the bottom of the house, not the top."

"A most unusual decor."

"Yes." Sebastian took the candle from Prudence and began to move slowly around the room.

Prudence shivered as she watched him. It was definitely colder in here than out in the hall, she thought. She wondered why Sebastian didn't feel the difference. It was not just the chill in the chamber that bothered her. There was an unpleasant sensation of darkness and shadow that had nothing to do with the ordinary gloom of night.

"Sebastian, there is something very wrong about this chamber," she said urgently.

He glanced at her in concern. "Damnation. You're frightened. I should never have brought you up here. Come, I will take you back to your bedchamber."

"No." She managed a hasty smile of reassurance. "No, I am quite all right. Just a bit cold."

"Are you certain you don't want to go back to your room?"

"And miss the opportunity to observe your investigation tech­niques? Absolutely not," she said staunchly. "Carry on, my lord."

He gave her a last, speculative look. "Very well. But if you become any more alarmed, you must tell me at once. I won't have you terrified out of your wits by this business."

"I assure you I am not in the least bit terrified." Prudence sought for a way to change the subject. "Do you know, I cannot imagine using this as a guest room. It is far too bizarre."

"I agree." Sebastian stopped in front of the wardrobe and opened it. "There are not many houseguests who would be comfortable in such a chamber."

"Is there anything inside that wardrobe?" Prudence stepped closer, momentarily distracted by the expression of intense concentra­tion she saw on Sebastian's face.

"No, it appears to be empty." Sebastian leaned into the shadowed wardrobe. "But there are a number of small drawers built into it."

"Let me see." Prudence glanced inside. Several rows of clrawers occupied most of the space. "I wonder what one would keep in here?"

"I have no idea." Sebastian began systematically opening the little drawers.

They were all empty except for the very last one in the lower right-hand corner. Sebastian was about to close it as he had the others when he paused, frowning.

"What is it?" Prudence stood on tiptoe, trying to peer over his shoulder. She saw the gleam of gold in the corner of the small drawer. "A coin."

"No, a button." Sebastian plucked the little gold object out of the drawer and held it in front of the candle. "It's engraved." He studied it more closely. "The Princes of Virtue."

Prudence frowned. "Virtue? Do you suppose that button belongs to an Evangelical?"

"I doubt it." Sebastian looked thoughtful. "Members of sonie gen­tlemen's clubs often have their buttons engraved with the n^me of their particular clubs."

"Have you ever heard of a club called The Princes of Virtual"

"No," Sebastian admitted. "I have not. But I might be ^ble to learn something about it when we return to Town." He dropped the button into his pocket and closed the drawer.

"I suppose it's highly unlikely that button will provide any clues about the nature of Ringcross's death," Prudence said, disappointed. "I doubt if there is any connection. I suspect the button has been lying in that drawer for years."

"One never knows," Sebastian said cryptically. He made to close the wardrobe doors and paused. He leaned forward once again.

"What is it?"

"There is an unusual joining in the wood," Sebastian said.

Prudence looked closer. "It reminds me of the sort of joining I found in the section of the floor that concealed the Pembroke jewels."

"I believe there is a false back in this wardrobe." Sebastian pushed experimentally against the back of the wardrobe. Nothing happened. "There is probably a hidden spring around here somewhere."

Prudence went around the side of the wardrobe to take a look from the outside. "The wardrobe is directly against the wall, Sebas­tian. Even if you manage to open the back, you would find only stone behind it."

"Nevertheless, I would like to solve this small puzzle." Sebastian continued to examine the inside of the wardrobe.

Prudence understood the impulse that drove him. She, too, was curious to see if there was a hidden mechanism designed to open the back of the wardrobe.

She got down on her knees to see if there was any sign of a lever or spring beneath the cabinet. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a small object beneath the bed.

"Sebastian, there is something over there."

"What is it?"

"It is under the bed. A little box, I believe." Prudence crawled toward the bed on her hands and knees. "Hold the candle lower."

"Let me get it." Sebastian reached down and hauled her upright. "We do not know what else may be under that damn bed."

She wrinkled her nose at his broad back as he went down on one knee. "Very well, my lord, but I want you to remember that it is I who spotted this particular bit of evidence, whatever it is."

"I would have gotten around to exploring beneath the bed in due course." Sebastian reached under the bed and picked up the little object.

"Well?" Prudence demanded eagerly. "What have you got?"

"A snuffbox."

"Is there anything else under there?" Prudence asked.

"Just a chamber pot." Sebastian got to his feet and turned the little snuffbox over in his hand. He opened it. "There is still some snuff inside." He held the box close to his nose and inhaled cautiously. "A very distinctive aroma."

"I am glad you do not use snuff," Prudence remarked. "It is a very nasty habit."

"But also a very common one. As is this snuffbox. It looks like dozens of others carried by gentlemen of the ton." Sebastian got to his feet. "Nevertheless, this blend is quite unusual. It might be possible to discover which tobacconist created it and for whom it was created."

"Perhaps it belonged to Ringcross, which will tell us little."

"I'm not so certain about that." Sebastian swept the shadowed chamber with another intent glance. "One would have thought that if it had belonged to Ringcross, it would have gone out the window at the same time he did. Unless there was a struggle in this room before he died and the box somehow fell out of his Docket."

Prudence stared at him. "You think this might really be a case of murder?"

"It is too soon to say. But the investigation grows more interesting by the moment." He walked over to the window and swept the heavy black drapes aside.

Prudence studied the large window. "It would be awkward to fall from there unless one were standing on the ledge."

"Yes. But one could certainly push a man over the edge," Sebas­tian said.

Prudence shivered again as another wave of deep, endless cold assailed her. "Or one could jump."