then selected a small
gold key. "This is it," he said, separating it from the others on the
ring. "Come with me, your lordship."

* * * * *

Darcy followed him across the room to a broad wall covered with a
great tapestry that must have dated back to the sixteenth century. Sir
Pierre reached behind it and pulled a cord. The entire tapestry slid
aside like a panel, and Lord Darcy saw that it was supported on a
track some ten feet from the floor. Behind it was what looked at first
like ordinary oak paneling, but Sir Pierre fitted the small key into
an inconspicuous hole and turned. Or, rather, tried to turn.

"That's odd," said Sir Pierre. "It's not locked!"

He took the key out and pressed on the panel, shoving sideways with
his hand to move it aside. It slid open to reveal a closet.

The closet was filled with women's clothing of all kinds, and styles.

Lord Darcy whistled soundlessly.

"Try that blue robe, your lordship," the Privy Secretary said. "The
one with the--Yes, that's the one."

Lord Darcy took it off its hanger. The same buttons. They matched. And
there was one missing from the front! Torn off! "Master Sean!" he
called without turning.

Master Sean came with a rolling walk. He was holding an oddly-shaped
bronze thing in his hand that Sir Pierre didn't quite recognize. The
sorcerer was muttering. "Evil, that there is! Faith, and the
vibrations are all over the place. Yes, my lord?"

"Check this dress and the button when you get round to it. I want to
know when the two parted company."

"Yes, my lord." He draped the robe over one arm and dropped the button
into a pouch at his belt. "I can tell you one thing, my lord. You talk
about an evil miasma, this room has got it!" He held up the object in
his hand. "There's an underlying background--something that has been
here for years, just seeping in. But on top of that, there's a hellish
big blast of it superimposed. Fresh it is, and very strong."

"I shouldn't be surprised, considering there was murder done here
last night--or very early this morning," said Lord Darcy.

"Hm-m-m, yes. Yes, my lord, the death is there--but there's something
else. Something I can't place."

"You can tell that just by holding that bronze cross in your hand?"
Sir Pierre asked interestedly.

Master Sean gave him a friendly scowl. "'Tisn't quite a cross, sir.
This is what is known as a _crux ansata_. The ancient Egyptians called
it an _an