'You've been over this before, haven't you?'
'Yes, and I don't see what it has to do with the killing of Blacker or Miss Snow.'
'If you and Blacker had some arrangement and he reneged on it, or even if you felt he owed you something, you'd be pretty incensed when he showed no interest in your book.'
He turned a shade more pink. 'You know about that as well?'
'There was a video of his visit to the circle. I've looked at it. He refused even to discuss your script in front of the others. This — from a man who'd netted a small fortune thanks to you.'
'I expected no favours.'
'You got none. There was just a 'see me afterwards' as if he was dealing with a schoolkid who hadn't done the homework. Humiliating for a man like you who's rubbed shoulders with the great and the good.'
'That's true, anyway. But it doesn't make me a murderer.'
'Big blow to your self-esteem.'
'It wouldn't be the first time. As my old friend Roger Moore once remarked to me, I have more bounce than any Bond girl he ever met.'
'Anything of note?' Hen said, finding Stella and Humphreys making tea.
'Warmington-Smith runs a Mini Metro on leaded,' Humphreys said.
'Does she, indeed?'
'And likes a walk late at night.'
'She wouldn't need to walk far to Miss Snow's.'
'And she's doolally as well. Sees things.'
'What things?'
'Like Joan of Arc, she says.'
'We'll take a look at that car, and the fuel. How's it going with Tudor, Stella?'
'Slow progress, guv. I'm pressing him on the insurance angle. He's as good as admitted his career went pear-shaped when Blacker made his claim on the missing Wodehouse script. I've yet to tackle him about Miss Snow.'
'Keep with it, then. Anton's going to be a long haul, too, as I expected. Teflon-coated, that man.'
'Try the blowtorch, guv.'
'I intend to.' First, she went to look at the circle members still waiting to be interviewed. No one was complaining at the delay. Maurice McDade's calming presence was a definite help. Even the volcanic Naomi was in a dormant phase, deep in some magazine article about the internet.
DI Johnny Cherry had drawn Sharon, the blonde, in this game and she wasn't the picture card she seemed. He'd already run through his limited knowledge of hairdressing and failed to spark a response. Writing seemed to interest her even less. She chewed steadily and watched him with her big, dark-lined eyes.
'Why did you join the circle, then?'
'Dunno.'
'You must have thought it would help your career.'
'Yeah?'
'Is it helpful, what they do at the meetings?'
A shrug.
'But I expect you get something out of it.'
'Dunno.'
'I mean, through talks and things. You went to the talk Edgar Blacker gave.'
'Did I?'
'The man who was murdered.'
'Oh, got you.'
'You didn't know him already, then?'
The eyes slid upwards in denial. How could she, young, blonde and gorgeous, possibly have entered the same orbit as an old fart like Blacker?
But Johnny didn't give up. 'I've seen the video, and you're on it. You seemed to be drawing — doodling really — while he was discussing the stuff that people had handed in. You didn't hand anything in yourself, I noticed.'
She gave another shrug and said nothing.
'Do you do any writing, Sharon?'
'Not really.'
'Apart from the speech bubbles in your strip?'
'Them, yes.'
'Based on things you hear in the salon?'
'Mm.'
'Well, it's all writing, isn't it? You have to know how to spell. It's going to be a nice little earner, this, from all I hear.' Pleased with himself for the smooth link to come, he said, 'You'll be able to buy a new car. What do you drive at the moment?'
'Nothing.'
'You don't have a car? How do you get around?'
'Friends.'
'You get lifts?'
'Sometimes.'
'Perhaps you borrow their cars. Can you drive?'
She nodded. 'If I need to.'
Johnny didn't have a link for his next question. It had to come out of nowhere. 'How well did you know Miss Snow, the woman who died in the fire?'
A slight frown. 'What do you mean?'
'Did you have any dealings with her outside the writers' circle?'
'Like work and stuff?'
'Anything. Any reason to meet her.'
'Well. . '
He jerked forward. 'Is that a yes?'
'Mm.'
'Where? Where did you see her?'
'The salon.'
Progress at last. 'She came to you to have her hair done?'
'Sometimes.'
'And did she like to talk to you when she was in the chair?'
'A bit.'
A bit. And a bit one-sided, going by this experience. It was dawning on Johnny why he'd been paired with that rare being, a silent hairdresser — Hen's way of paying him back for his earlier gaffes. 'Did she have anything to say about the other members of the circle?'
'Might have.'
'What does that mean — might have? Either she talked about them or she didn't.'
'So?'
'So what did you learn?'
'Don't bother with their names, most of them.'
This was a pain. 'Okay, let's go at it another way. Did you do her hair before the Blacker meeting?'
'Mm.'
'That was a yes, was it?'
'She wanted it nice.'
'For the meeting?'
A nod.
'And did she pass any comment?'
'Asked if I was going.'
