Best Kept Secret

escaped from Warsaw in 1941, soon after her parents were arrested.’
    ‘What was their crime?’
    ‘Being Jewish,’ said Mitchell without feeling. ‘She managed to get across the border with some of the family’s possessions, and made her way to London, where she rented a
flat in Lowndes Square. It wasn’t long after that that she met your father at a cocktail party given by a mutual friend. He courted the lady for a few weeks and then moved into her apartment,
giving his word that they would be married as soon as his divorce came through.’
    ‘I said nothing would surprise me. I was wrong.’
    ‘It gets worse,’ said Mitchell. ‘When your grandfather died, Sir Hugo immediately dumped Miss Piotrovska, and returned to Bristol to claim his inheritance and take over as
chairman of the board of Barrington’s shipping line. But not before he’d stolen all of Miss Piotrovska’s jewellery as well as several valuable paintings.’
    ‘If that’s true, why wasn’t he arrested?’
    ‘He was,’ said Mitchell, ‘and was about to be charged when his associate, Toby Dunstable, who had turned King’s evidence, committed suicide in his cell the night before
the trial.’
    Emma bowed her head.
    ‘Would you rather I didn’t continue, Mrs Clifton?’
    ‘No,’ said Emma looking directly at him. ‘I need to know everything.’
    ‘Although your father wasn’t aware of it when he returned to Bristol, Miss Piotrovska was pregnant. She gave birth to a little girl, who is named on the birth certificate as Jessica
Piotrovska.’
    ‘How do you know that?’
    ‘Because Miss Piotrovska employed me when your father could no longer pay my bills. Ironically, she ran out of money just as your father inherited a fortune. That was the reason she
travelled down to Bristol with Jessica. She wanted Sir Hugo to know he had another daughter, as she felt it was his responsibility to bring the girl up.’
    ‘And now it’s my responsibility,’ said Emma quietly. She paused. ‘But I’ve no idea how to go about finding her, and I was hoping you could help.’
    ‘I’ll do whatever I can, Mrs Clifton. But after all this time, it won’t be easy. If I come up with anything, you’ll be the first to hear,’ the detective added as he
rose from his seat.
    As Mitchell limped away, Emma felt a little guilty. She hadn’t even offered him a cup of tea.

    Emma couldn’t wait to get home and tell Harry about her meeting with Mitchell. When she burst into the library at Barrington Hall, he was putting down the phone. He had
such a huge grin on his face that all she said was, ‘You first.’
    ‘My American publishers want me to do a tour of the States when they launch the new book next month.’
    ‘That’s wonderful news, darling. At last you’ll get to meet Great-aunt Phyllis, not to mention Cousin Alistair.’
    ‘I can’t wait.’
    ‘Don’t mock, child!’
    ‘I’m not, because my publishers have suggested you join me on the trip, so you’ll be able to see them too.’
    ‘I’d love to go with you, darling, but the timing couldn’t be worse. Nanny Ryan has packed her bags, and I’m embarrassed to say that the agency’s taken us off their
books.’
    ‘Perhaps I could get my publishers to agree to Seb coming along as well.’
    ‘Which would probably result in all of us being deported,’ said Emma. ‘No, I’ll stay at home with Seb, while you go off and conquer the colonies.’
    Harry took his wife in his arms. ‘Pity. I was looking forward to a second honeymoon. By the way, how did your meeting with Mitchell go?’

    Harry was in Edinburgh addressing a literary lunch when Derek Mitchell phoned Emma.
    ‘I may have a lead,’ he said, not giving his name. ‘When can we meet?’
    ‘Ten o’clock tomorrow morning, same place?’
    No sooner had she put the phone down than it rang again. She picked it up, to find her sister on the other end of the line.
    ‘What a pleasant surprise, Grace, but knowing you, you’ll have a good reason for calling.’
    ‘Some of us have full-time jobs,’ Grace reminded her. ‘But you’re right. I rang because last night I attended a lecture given by Professor Cyrus Feldman.’
    ‘The double Pulitzer Prize-winner?’ said Emma, hoping to impress her sister. ‘Stanford University, if I remember correctly.’
    ‘I’m impressed,’ said Grace. ‘More to the point, you’d have been fascinated by the talk he gave.’
    ‘He’s an economist, if I recall?’ said Emma, trying