The Circle

'That's what Chichester is, basically,' Anton said.

They were standing beside a table-top model of the city, every building to scale, tiny cars lined up in the car parks. Thomasine was in raptures. 'The market cross, the cathedral, and look, here's McDonald's. Did you make this, Anton?'

'A long time ago,' he said in a dismissive tone.

'It's beautiful. The detail. These little shop signs, the boot and the wishbone. No wonder you don't have much time for writing.'

'I haven't kept up,' he said. 'Hooper's has long gone and the Shippam's sign shouldn't be there any more. I've turned my attention to this.' He went to a computer across the room and switched on. A Screensaver showing the market cross lit up the screen before it switched to a map of the city. 'Are you familiar with a computer mouse?'

'If I answer yes, what's the pay-offline?' Thomasine said.

'It's a serious question.'

It had to be, coming from Anton.

'All right. Yes, I can use one.'

'Go for a virtual walk, then. See if you can find your hairdresser.'

'I don't believe this.' She used the cursor to locate Crane Street, off North Street. 'It should be here, on the left.' She left-clicked and a shop called Blinkers filled the screen. 'Yikes!'

'You can go in,' he told her.

'What?'

'Click on the door.'

The salon's interior came up, complete with altar-like counter and waiting area, basins, mirrors and chairs. 'Anton, I'm gobsmacked. That's it to the life. Perfect.'

'No, if it was perfect you'd be able to talk to your stylist and discuss what you want. That's for the next generation of software.' He said to Bob, 'Why don't you try?'

'For a hairdo?'

But Thomasine said, 'Keep off. I want to carry on playing. It's so amazing. I could do this for hours.' She found the library and looked in. Another click and she was upstairs in the reference section.

'My turn,' Bob said, and soon he was exploring the Butter Market, checking the accuracy of the places where he bought bread and fish. The controls let him turn corners and examine everything from multiple angles. 'Must be a top-class package to do this.'

'From Japan, and not cheap,' Anton said.

'So did you make the graphics yourself?'

'I had no choice. I don't think they've heard of the Chichester Butter Market in Japan.'

'How do you do it? You must have visited every shop and measured up.'

'I worked with plans all my life. Some of it has to be guesswork, but most is verifiable. Getting it right appeals to me.'

'What about private houses?' Bob asked. 'Are they in the virtual tour?'

Anton shook his head. 'One has to be discreet. I go no further than the front door.'

Hearing this, Bob found himself recalling that Edgar Blacker's killer had needed to go no further than the front door. 'How far out does this stretch?'

'The limits? It's quite modest actually. I've stopped at the ends of the four main streets, so the theatre isn't in yet and neither is the station to the south. I'd like to include them in time.'

Bob was exploring the cathedral, zooming in on the stained glass. 'Hours and hours went into this, I bet.'

'These days I get by with very little sleep.'

'How do I switch off?'

'You can leave it running. We'll go into the back room. It's more comfortable.'

He led them into a place lined with books, wall to wall. There were three armchairs and a low table.

'I'm willing to bet there's a section here on English grammar,' Bob said.

'To your right, above the dictionaries of quotations. Now, at the risk of being impolite, my time is precious. Why don't you take a seat and put me through the third degree? I assume that's what you came for?'

Thomasine said in a low voice, 'Did I spot a hanging participle?'

Anton managed a smile and said, 'Mm culpa.'

He listened in silence to Bob's account of his escape from the boat house. 'No offence,' Bob went on, 'but I'm seeing each of the men in the circle just to clear the air, so to speak.'

'Clear the air' was a cliche, and Anton was gracious enough to let it pass with no more than the lifting of an eyebrow. 'But why confine your enquiries to the men?'

'The phone call Miss Snow took last night. She said it was a man's voice.'

'Didn't she recognise it?'

'Disguised, she thought.'

'Far be it from me to complicate matters,' Anton said, 'but it wouldn't be a huge technical problem for a woman to make her voice sound like a man's. You can buy a simple voice synthesiser in a toy shop.'

Thomasine turned to Bob. 'He's right. My girls at school played tricks on me with one. Why didn't I think of that?'

'Okay,' Bob said, 'thanks for that, Anton, but would you mind telling me where you were this morning between eight and nine?'

'Here, doing the crossword.'

Another bullseye from Thomasine.

'How did you get on?'

Anton reached for the newspaper and held up the back page, showing the corner clipped out. 'It's in the post.'

'Finished already?'

'Come, come. I wouldn't send it incomplete.'

'So you've been out already?'

'A fair deduction, Holmes. The post office is only five minutes away. Oh, and you're going to tell me the boat houses by the canal are almost as near. I can't deny it, but the paper was delivered as usual at seven fifteen and I took just under an hour to complete the crossword — by which time you were limping home covered in soot by your account.'

'True,' Bob said, crushed.

Thomasine came to his rescue. 'We'd also like to ask about Edgar Blacker.'

'What about him?'

'Did you know him before he visited the circle?'

'No. Why should I?'

Bob said with more bounce, 'Well, if you're the killer, we have to find the reason. You didn't send in a piece of work for him to comment on.'

'True.'

'And one mixed metaphor isn't enough to justify murder,' Thomasine said.

'Possibly not.'

'So you'd need some stronger motive.'

'Such as a long-standing grudge because he bullied me at school?'

'That might qualify.'

'Or stole my girlfriend, or bumped my car?'

'Yes.'

Anton's eyes shone. He was well on top of this exchange. 'Sorry to disappoint, but I'd never set eyes on the man before that evening. If I were you, I'd try one of the others. You're wasting your time on me.'

'Why do you bother with the circle?' Bob asked. 'I was told you don't often read things out.'

He thought about that for a moment. 'I'm fascinated by people with creative minds. I don't have any imagination whatsoever. Give me a blueprint, a map, and I can work from it, but I can't start with a blank sheet.