'Any comment on the speaker?'
'Said he was some publisher.'
'That's all? Had she met him before?'
'Didn't say so.'
Johnny sighed. He was near the limit of his patience. 'Talking to you, Sharon, I find it difficult to understand how you landed this job of writing the strip. Surely you need a good ear for dialogue.'
'What's that?' she said.
'Conversation. The things people say to you. You haven't told me anything Miss Snow said to you. How on earth are you going to fill in all the speech bubbles if you don't remember what people say?'
'Simple.'
'Yes?'
'It's a knack, innit?' Sharon said.
'Explain.'
'Keeping it short'
And on thinking about strip cartoon dialogue, he was forced to admit that Sharon had the knack. She was second to none at keeping it short.
Zach Beale was in such a state of trembling and twitching that DC Shilling thought he would get nowhere if he plunged straight in, so he tried to calm him down by talking music. Working in the MVC shop, Zach needed knowledge of everything from hip-hop to the classics. Shilling volunteered he was a Dido fan, trying to get some reaction, but the only response came from the officer at his side, who rolled his eyes. After more prompting Zach said he was into something he called NAM that Shilling had to have explained. It was an acronym for New Acoustic Movement. NAM was cool, pure and non-electric. Zach listed some performers. He'd loosened up enough for Shilling to throw in the first question.
'So was it a surprise to you when Edgar Blacker compared you to Tolkien?'
'What — when he gave that talk?'
'Yes. I've watched the video you made. It was you behind the camera, wasn't it?'
'If you saw it, you know what he said. He wasn't comparing me to Tolkien. He said I might pick up some of Tolkien's readers.'
''Millions of readers' was what he said. He went overboard for your work. He was ready to sign you up straight away.'
'It's academic now, isn't it?' Zach said. 'The guy's dead.'
'Did he follow it up in any way?'
'What, after the talk was over? Said he'd be getting in touch. Not much use to me now, is it?'
'A lucky escape, then. You can show the book to another publisher. By all accounts, Blacker didn't treat his writers too well.'
'I didn't know that at the time.'
'So you must have been gutted when you heard what happened to him.'
'That about sums it up.'
'Of all the people in the circle, you're the one with least motive.' That went down well. Shilling watched the face relax a little. 'Do you have any theories who'd want to kill him?'
Zach ran both hands over his head and clutched the ponytail. 'Not my thing, naming and shaming.'
'That isn't what I heard.' Shilling said in a sharp accusing tone, 'My information is that you and Naomi Green have been doing some detective work.'
Now he flexed his legs so hard that his chair slid back. 'Who told you that?'
'You're not going to deny it, are you?'
He was silent for some time, deciding what to say. 'It's not what it seems. It's a writing project.'
'Oh, yeah?'
'Yeah. Research for writing. Writers do research all the time. It's not just imagination. You have to find stuff out.'
'I thought your thing was fantasy'
'It is mostly.' He looked away, wanting to be anywhere but here. 'Igot talked into this. She wants us to do a book together.'
'About the circle?'
'The murders.'
'And have you found out anything of interest?'
No response.
Shilling repeated the question.
'I haven't. She did. Well, she may have.'
'What's that, Zach?'
A pause. 'You'd better ask her.'
Shilling leaned forward, and being so tall he could lean a long way, his forehead almost touching Zach's. 'We're not playing hunt the slipper here. There's a killer at large. If you know something, sunshine, spill it out, or I can do you for obstructing us.'
He exhaled sharply and cried out, 'She scares me rigid.'
Shilling waited.
With an effort at control Zach said, 'She got into Blacker's cottage — after it was burned, I mean — and found a picture, a photo.'
'Of Blacker?'
'Right, and another guy.'
'It was Naomi who nicked the photo?' Any pleasure in the discovery was undermined. Shilling was furious with himself for failing to make the connection.
'Yes, but she hasn't got it now. She unloaded it on me. I've got it at home.'
Shilling stood up. 'You and I are going to your place right now to collect this picture. It's evidence.'
'She'll go ballistic'
'You won't say a word to her or anyone else. Understood? Sit here while I tell my boss where we're going.'
Johnny Cherry was almost through the list of questions Hen had supplied.
'Something else, Sharon. We're trying to track everyone's movements on the night Miss Snow died in the fire. What were you up to?'
'The Friday?'
'Right'
'I was out of it.'
'Meaning what?'
'Took the weekend off, didn't I?'
'Right out of it, you mean? Some other place?'
'You can ask my boss.'
'Where were you?'
'Harrogate.'
Getting on for three hundred miles away.
'What were you doing in Harrogate?'
'Conference.'
Now it was Johnny who went silent, dumbfounded at the idea that Sharon would enrol for a conference, let alone travel there. 'Can you prove it?'
'S'pose.'
'What sort of conference?'
'Books and stuff.'
Johnny rubbed his eyes and said, 'Let me get this straight. You went to a literary conference?'
'Fantasy'
There was an awkward interval as Johnny grappled with the answer. 'What are you saying now, Sharon? You
