and she was going to bring it here.'
'She did. It was handed in,' DC Shilling said.
'So it wasn't lost in the fire. Thank God for that.'
'You can thank DI Cherry, my boss. He got in touch with Miss Snow and asked her to bring it in.'
'Is he in charge of the case?'
'Was. Someone else is taking over now. A DCI from Bognor. Two suspicious deaths is a bit much for one DI to handle.'
'Plus the fire in the boat house,' Bob said.
'If it was related.'
'You bet it was related,' Bob said, and launched into his account of the mysterious phone call to Miss Snow offering information that would get Maurice out of jail. Then he explained how he took Miss Snow's place and turned up at the boat house and was nearly barbecued.
'You saw no one?' Shilling said.
'He kept out of sight, whoever he was. Or she.'
'Pity you didn't report this at the time.'
'You found out soon enough, didn't you?' Bob said. 'You could see the blaze from here.'
'But we didn't know about you.'
'If you had, you might have thought I was the arsonist.'
'Fair comment. We've only got your word that you aren't.'
Bob held up a finger. 'Hold on. Get this straight. I volunteered to tell you all this.'
'Noted. Have you got any enemies, Mr Naylor? Anyone who might want to harm you?'
He glared back, 'I told you this was meant for Miss Snow, not me. I took her place.'
'I follow that, but answer the question, please.'
'Well, I shoot off at the mouth more often than I should, but I can't think of anyone who feels that sore about me.'
'What about these people in the writers' circle?'
'What about them?'
'Anyone taken a dislike to you?'
'That'd be quick. I've only been to one meeting. They're friendly so far. When are you going to release Maurice, the chairman? There's no way he could have started this fire.'
'He's being held on a separate charge.'
'The fire at Edgar Blacker's place. Don't you think it's got to be the same guy?'
'When the forensic report is in, I'm sure the SIO will compare the two incidents and form a conclusion.'
'They're both arson, aren't they?'
'The first was a deliberate act. The fire investigator found that it started in the front hall, from something pushed through the letterbox. This one may appear similar but it's got to be confirmed.'
'Everyone says you're wasting your time on Maurice.'
'It's not up to me,' Shilling said. 'We'll see, we'll see.'
An hour later, two beers and a mushroom pizza to the good, Bob thought about what he'd learned. The fuzz were in no hurry to release Maurice. The new chief honcho needed to get up to speed with the case. They were waiting for the forensic results from the fire investigation. With so little action, the killer would be thinking this was easy-peasy.
He recalled Miss Snow's jitters about the call the killer had made. At the time he'd thought he'd solved her problem. He'd felt quite pleased with himself, doing his knight-in-shining-armour bit. Even when things went wrong at the boat house, he'd told himself he'd saved the lady from a bad experience. The thought hadn't crossed his mind that the killer would try something else.
Miss Snow was on Bob's conscience now. He was fully committed to finding the killer.
He just wished his hands wouldn't shake so much.
13
My life's been a meeting, Dad, one long meeting. Even on the few committees I don't yet belong to, the agenda winks at me when I pass.
Wish I'd worn something else, Bob was thinking when he turned up at the New Park Centre in his Guinness T-shirt. This was more like a memorial service than a circle meeting. The members nodded solemnly to each other and everyone was talking in hushed voices. The sense of shock and bereavement was real. Basil and Anton were wearing black ties. Nobody was in the bright colours you'd expect on a fine summer's evening.
Even the room seemed cold.
'Are we all here yet? Is anyone missing?' Thomasine asked, and then put her hand to her mouth as if she wished she'd said something else. One absentee was on everyone's mind.
She tried again. 'Shall we get the chairs around the table?'
While this was going on, Bob made a count. Everyone except Miss Snow and Maurice.
Anton called across the room to Thomasine. 'Who's going to chair this?'
'I thought I would, if no one objects,' she said. 'Dagmar and I are on the committee. She's offered to take the minutes.'
'Is it a regular meeting, then?'
'No, darling, I think it's best described as an extraordinary meeting, don't you?'
Satisfied, it seemed, he went to a chair and sat down.
Dagmar, on Thomasine's left, said in confidence, 'Should we start with a prayer?'
'I thought we'd have a minute's silence. We're not all church-goers.'
For once there was no need to call them all to order. They'd taken their places around the table and gone silent. Thomasine explained that she'd called the meeting in Maurice's absence, but she was confident he would give it his approval as soon as he was released, as he surely would be. She said, 'We're here out of respect to the memory of Miss Snow, our secretary, and I propose that we start with a minute's silence.'
Anton said, 'Do we know for certain that she died?'
'For pity's sake,' Tudor said. 'This isn't the time for nitpicking, old boy. You don't see her here, do you?'
Dagmar said, 'I expect she's here in spirit.'
Jessie, the archdeacon's widow, said, 'Amen.'
'So if you have a problem with showing respect, why don't you take care of the timekeeping?' Tudor said to Anton. 'Tell us when the minute is up.'
'If you wish.'
'Shouldn't we stand?' Basil said.
Thomasine said this was a good suggestion.
So they stood, some with heads bowed, thinking of Miss Snow until Anton said, 'Time.'
Tudor turned on him again. 'This isn't a bloody booze-up. We're trying to show respect for a dead colleague.'
'What else was I supposed to do — whistle 'The Last Post'?' Anton said.
Thomasine said, 'Cool it, guys. Let's all sit down and have a civilised discussion about where we go from here.'
'I propose Dagmar for our new secretary,' Jessie said as soon as they were settled.
'Seconded,' Basil said so fast that it had the signs of a fix.
Tudor held up both hands as if to stop an advancing train. 'Before we rush into this, let's ask Dagmar if she's willing to take the risk.'
Dagmar looked up from her notepad. 'What risk?'
