'Was Basil there?' Bob asked, slipping into Naomi's habit of discussing her husband as if he couldn't answer for himself.
'He joined later. There were just the three of us. Basil isn't so committed as I am.'
'The garden comes first,' Basil said. 'On the long summer evenings I don't often get to the circle.'
'And I can understand why,' Thomasine said. 'It's a joy to be here.'
Walking back towards the centre of town, Bob said, 'That's it, then. All the men in the circle except Maurice. I've looked each of them in the eye trying to think, Are you a murderer, chum?'
'And what have you decided?'
'They're all a bit iffy, aren't they? Basil seems the most harmless, but he's got a scary woman pulling his strings.'
'Lady Macbeth?'
'Could be. There's Tudor, as shifty as you like, with something to hide about an insurance deal. Zach, who thinks he's a genius, and Anton, who may
'Writers are funny people.'
'Funny peculiar?'
'That's what I meant.'
He heard himself say, 'Be careful, Thomasine.'
'What?'
'Watch your back. Someone had a go at me. It can only be because I'm asking awkward questions. And if I'm being targeted, then you're at risk too.'
10
Authors are easy to get on with — if you are fond of children.
'I want you out of the way tonight,' Naomi told Basil. ' I've got someone coming to see me.'
'Who's that, dear?'
'Zach from the circle.'
'Zach? I didn't know you and Zach were seeing each other.'
He received one of her looks. 'Don't make it sound like adultery. We may be collaborating as writers, that's all.'
'And you want me to make myself scarce?'
'Yes. Why don't you prick out some more of those seedlings?'
Basil said with a touch of irritation, 'I finished that job the evening I rescued you from Blacker's house. Don't worry, I'll find something else to do.' He hesitated. You'll probably shoot me down in flames for saying this, but isn't Zach's writing rather far removed from yours?'
She didn't shoot him down. She said in a bored voice, as if it was so obvious he should have thought of it himself, 'We'll each bring a different perspective to the project, and that can be stimulating.'
'May I ask what it's about, this project?'
You may ask, but you won't get an answer from me. This is still at an early stage and we don't want other people stealing our idea.'
Basil accepted this rebuke with philosophy. 'Writing is more competitive than I appreciated before I joined the circle. In my innocence I thought it was just about self-expression.'
'You're not innocent,' she said. 'You're naive.'
Zach's motorbike roared up Whyke Lane a few minutes before eight. He braked and dismounted and marched up to the front door feeling good in his leathers. In an encounter with Naomi you needed all the confidence you could muster, not to mention protection.
She was wearing a purple trouser suit and black silk blouse. She looked him up and down.
'You'll be wanting to get out of that stuff.'
'I'm fine, thanks.'
'Don't be ridiculous. Give me the crash helmet and close the door behind you.'
'Er, yes.'
She put the helmet on the table by the door and said, 'Jacket.'
There was no future in protesting. He began the business of unfastening and unzipping under Naomi's steady gaze.
She said, 'Distinctive smell.'
'The leather?'
'Yes. Motorcycling is another world to me. I've never even ridden pillion.'
Against his better judgement he said, 'You must try some time.'
She gave a slight nod. 'I'll need to if we're going to achieve anything as a writing team. Do you have a spare helmet?'
He hadn't foreseen this as a serious possibility. 'I may have at home.' He removed the boots and stepped out of the trousers. In his T-shirt and denim shorts he felt about six years old. 'Is Basil about this evening?'
'I sent him to the greenhouse. We don't want him watching us like Big Brother.'
Basil as Big Brother was a difficult concept.
She led him into the room with the piano and her ancestors' photographs. 'A glass of wine? Good for the getting of ideas.'
'Just one, then.'
She poured him a large glass of Bulgarian red. 'Did you get a visit from the new man?'
'Bob Naylor? Yes. And Thomasine.'
'So did we. And did they tell you about the fire this morning? Naylor was lucky to get out alive.'
'It's true, then?'
'The boat house burnt down, so it must be true. But I don't think he was the intended victim. Miss Snow was the target, and she would have died. She isn't capable of knocking a hole in the roof and climbing out. We're dealing with a ruthless killer here.'
'You think it's the same person who torched the publisher's cottage?'
'I'd put money on it.'
Zach frowned. 'Why Miss Snow? She hasn't upset anyone.'
'I know,' Naomi said. 'She's Goody Two-Shoes. When she isn't working in the charity shop she's visiting the women's refuge or helping her friends with their accounts. I can't think of anyone who'd want to kill her unless it's because she's so damned saintly. There were girls at school I would cheerfully have murdered because they were like that.'
'Too good to be true?'
'No. So good and so true it made the rest of us feel like trash. At one time we tried to get up a protest about the school dinners, which were vile, unfit for pigs, and one of these little angels said that instead of complaining we ought to think of the starving millions in China. Wouldn't you have strangled someone like that?'
He grinned. 'What did you do?'
'Not much. Changed her knife and fork for a pair of chopsticks. Girls en masse are feeble when it comes to the point. A woman acting alone, or preferably with a man, is another animal altogether.' She raised her glass. 'Here's to you and me.'
'Em, sure.'
'This isn't just about writing, Zach.'
'No?' His leg gave an involuntary jerk.
'We've got to get out and about. What are they up to, those two, Thomasine and the new man?'
