'I've thought of something else.'
'I'm quite busy, actually.'
'Mind if I come in. It won't take long.'
Neary would have liked to slam the door in Burton's face, but you don't do that sort of thing in a village, particularly to a fellow member of the confirmation class. He had little option but to do the Christian thing and miss the rest of the TV pro-gramme he'd been watching. He made way for Burton to step in.
Reluctantly, Neary pressed the mute button on the remote control.
'It's about the bees,' said Burton.
'My bees?' He was ready to defend them.
'No. Any bees. They always have their queen, don't they? It all revolves around her, doesn't it? The hive, the honey, collecting the nectar?'
'It's Saturday night, Burton. Surely you haven't come round here for a lesson on beekeeping?'
'I'm right about the queen, aren't I?'
Neary sighed. 'Pretty well. She exists to lay eggs. Thousands of them. None of the other bees can do that unless they're made into queens.'
The brown eyes gleamed. 'This is the point, then. What happens if you remove the queen from the hive and put her somewhere else? They're bound to go looking for her, aren't they?'
'What are you driving at? You're still on about using bees to kill someone?'
'If you took the queen into a house, and the bees came looking for her-'
'Ain't necessarily so, Burton.'
'Why not?'
'They can replace a queen very easily. When the queen dies, or leaves the hive, they make an emergency queen cell by enlarging a worker cell. The lava in there migrates into the bigger space and is specially fed with royal jelly-you've heard of that? — and turns into a queen. So there's an in-built procedure. They don't 'go looking,' as you put it. They make a new queen.'
Burton looked unconvinced. 'What about when they swarm?'
'That's usually when the colony outgrows the space in the hive. They rear a new queen, and the old queen leaves with a portion of the colony and they find a new place to nest. They have the queen with them. They're not swarming in search of her.'
'Could you lure a swarm into a house, through a bathroom window, say?'
Neary was becoming impatient. 'What's this about, Burton? Are you wanting to do away with a rich aunt? Because there are easier ways than persuading bees to do it for you.'
Sands twitched at the suggestion and then said in his earnest manner, 'This is confidential, but I heard about a case of a woman who was stung by a bee while taking a shower. She was allergic to them, and she died. It's possible that the husband wanted her out of the way. He's said by some people to be a murderer, but no one knows for sure. He's very clever.'
'He'd have to be, to do it with bees. Is he a beekeeper?'
'Not to my knowledge.'
'Forget it, then. He's innocent.'
But he would not forget it. 'Isn't there a substance that attracts bees?'
'Pheromone. It's produced by the bees, by the Nasonov, or scent gland. They fan their wings to disperse it and attract other workers, for example when they find the entrance to a new nest.'
'Is it used by beekeepers?'
'You mean to attract the colony to a new hive?'
'Yes.'
'It can be. I believe it's produced synthetically and sold.'
'And if an evil-minded person obtained some and smeared it around a bathroom, would it bring some bees there?'
'Could do. But you still have to persuade them to sting, and that's not guaranteed. A bee that stings a person is going to leave behind its sting mechanism and part of its viscera. That kills the bee inside twenty-four hours. They don't sting for the hell of it. Not usually.'
'There are exceptions?'
'You do get aggressive colonies sometimes.'
'Killer bees?'
'They're something else. African. We don't get killer bees here.'
'But you just said-'
'All I'm saying is that certain strains are more likely to sting than others. It's to do with their genetic make- up, but they're also made more angry when the nectar isn't flowing due to bad weather. And some crops such as oil-seed rape have an effect when they work them in isolation.'
'If you knew of a colony like that, and you had some of that synthetic stuff-'
Neary was unwilling to join in Burton's theory. 'Listen, if I wanted someone to get stung I wouldn't fiddle about trying to attract the bees to the scene of the crime.'
'What would you do?'
'Use a jam jar.'
'What?'
'To catch some. Then I'd take them up to the bathroom and hold the open end against my victim's flesh. If she's taking a shower, as you suggest, and I'm married to her, she'd be an easy target. They'll sting, all right, being trapped. If she's allergic, she's not going to stay conscious for long. Much simpler.'
'That certainly is,' said Burton with admiration. 'I don't know why I didn't think of it. The murderer needn't be a beekeeper at all. He's only got to go out to the garden and catch a bee in a jar.'
'He'd have to be a right bastard to do that to his wife.'
Burton agreed. 'He would.'
Seventeen
During the week a notice typical of the rector appeared on the board outside the church: 'BEAT THE CHRISTMAS RUSH. SEE YOU HERE ON SUNDAY.' And at Morning Service, he gave good value as usual, telling of the small boy who got the words of the Lord's Prayer muddled and said, 'Forgive us our Christmases, as we forgive those that Christmas against us.' In a sense the boy got it right, he said, 'Because it's not a bad idea to ask God to forgive us our Christmases. And maybe he will if we've taken time out to worship him-*-which is my cue to appeal for the best turn-out ever for the carol; singing around the village in aid of church funds. You don't have to be a good singer. Everyone can give it a belt, and if you really have no voice at all just knock on doors and rattle a tin. This is when we show the rest of the village how to have a good time celebrating the true meaning of Christmas. If we do it in the right spirit, some will surely get the message and think, 'Hey, that lot aren't so po-faced after all. I might give church a try.' '
After the service, Rachel managed once again to slip out unseen, squeezing behind a couple who were telling Otis about their trip to the Holy Land. She couldn't bear the formality of shaking hands when she really wanted to be hugged and kissed.
She didn't escape Cynthia, who caught her before the lych-gate.
'I saw you giving him the go-by. What is it between you two-have you crossed him off your visiting list?'
'He was talking to the Cartwrights.'
'Come off it, darling. You didn't even give a wave as you went by. Listen, if you don't watch out some of us are going to throw our hats in the ring-or something more intimate.'
'I'm not stopping you,' Rachel said.
'Beg pardon?'
'I said I'm not stopping you. It's a free country.'
'Don't be like that. I was only kidding. Are you turning out for the carols?'
