Bloodhounds

to the Bloodhounds.'

'Unfortunate.'

'Yes. She was mortified.'

'Did she have anything else to say?'

'Let me think. She was very shaken. Well, it was obvious to both of us that one of the Bloodhounds must have murdered Sid.'

'How did you come to that conclusion?'

Shirley-Ann switched off the kettle and warmed a fancy teapot shaped like the face of Sherlock Holmes, with a deer-stalker lid. 'We knew Sid drove to Limpley Stoke after our meeting and into that boatyard where Mild had his houseboat. The policeman who gave Polly the news told her Sid's car was found down there. Didn't know what he was up to. Whatever it was, he must have thought there wasn't much chance of being disturbed, with Milo having gone to the police station and sure to be there some time, to explain about the stamp. Obviously he was wrong. Someone else went to the boat as well. And it had to be one of the Bloodhounds, because we were the only people who knew Milo wouldn't be home.'

'Polly had worked this out?'

'She didn't actually put it into words. I did.'

'You're a bit of a sleuth yourself, then,' said Diamond, watching her pop two teabags into Holmes's head.

'I'm sure Polly was of the same opinion,' said Shirley-Ann. 'She's very astute, and she was in a fine old state about the murder.'

'Why do you think she confided in you?'

She blushed. 'I don't know. Perhaps she thought I was so new in the club that I was the only one who couldn't possibly have a motive for murdering Sid-which is true when you think about it. Everyone else had known him some time.'

'Fair enough. They'd been coming for years, some of them. Mr. Motion, Mrs. Wycherley.' Casually, Diamond tossed in Miss Chilmark's name, as one of the long-standing members. 'Quite a formidable lady, from all I've heard.'

'I thought so at first,' said Shirley-Ann. 'She presents a strong front-seven hundred years of Chilmarks, and that sort of patronizing nonsense that people of her sort sometimes use to justify their pretensions. I think she's brittle, though. She panics easily.'

'The episode with the dog?'

'Rupert's dog, yes.'

'You're sure that was genuine?'

She frowned. 'Do you mean, Was she acting? I didn't think so. She worked herself up in anticipation, but that's different. We had a bit of a scene the previous week, when Marlowe- that's the dog-shook himself dry and made some of us wet in the process. She'd obviously fretted all week over that. At the beginning of the next meeting, before Rupert arrived, she was asking the rest of us to support her in excluding the dog. When the crisis came, it was real, I'm sure.'

'The hyperventilation?'

'Yes.'

'Rupert was the thorn in her flesh?'

'Absolutely.'

'Did you happen to notice how she behaved toward the other men?'

Shirley-Ann's eyebrows lifted a fraction at the question.

Diamond couched it another way. 'A maiden lady, rather brittle, to use your expression. Is she nervous of men?'

'If she is, it doesn't show. She gets on well wittf Milo, helps him to put out the chairs when they arrive early.'

'And Sid Towers? She wasn't in awe of him?'

'I don't think so. Like the rest of them, she behaved as if he wasn't there most of the time-which is probably the kindest way to treat a painfully shy man.'

Diamond moved the questioning on. 'I'd value your opinion, Miss Miller. You know that Sid was murdered later that evening, and you observed everything that happened at the meeting. Did you form any theories?'

'About who did it? No.'

'No suspicions, even?'

'Well…' She poured the boiling water into the teapot, busying herself with the task. 'Not at the time.'

'You've got your suspicions now?' Diamond pressed her.

She was trying to hold back, which clearly went against nature for Shirley-Ann. 'Oh, nothing I'd call a suspicion.'

'What would you call it, then-an inspired guess? Woman's intuition?'

This dart hit its target, but failed to achieve the desired result. It brought out the militant in Shirley-Ann. 'Would you like the tea in a mug, or all over your head?'

At this point Julie had an intuition of her own: to wade in, but on Shirley-Ann's side. 'I wouldn't even ask,' she told her. 'He's like this all the time. You wouldn't believe the things I've heard him say to women. God knows you wouldn't hint at something you know unless it was properly thought through and based on common sense. Intuition, be blowed!'

From the expression on Diamond's face, he might as well have had the teapot upended over his bald patch. Luckily he was lost for words, and it was the effusive Shirley-Ann who supplied them.

'You're spot on. I do know something. I wasn't going to mention it.'

'But you will, to make a stand for women,' said Julie, dangerously close to overdoing this.

Shirley-Ann, fired up, proceeded to tell them about the words she'd seen sprayed on the window of the Walsingham Gallery and cleaned off by Jessica's husband, Barnaby. 'And those are facts,' she said finally. 'To hell with intuition.'

Julie's onslaught had wrongfooted Diamond, but he was grateful for the result. ' 'She did for Sid'-those were the words?'

'Yes.'

'You saw them yourself?'

Now that she had an ally, Shirley-Ann was becoming assertive. 'Didn't I just say so? Jessica practically dragged me into the street to look.'

'Who else was there?'

'Her husband, Barnaby, and A.J., the artist.'

'We've met A.J.,' said Julie. 'He seems to be around a lot of the time.'

'You can say that again,' said Shirley-Ann, all discretion abandoned. Her sisterly bond with Julie was bringing spectacular results. 'I'm surprised the husband puts up with it.'

'With what?' said Diamond.

'Oh, I've met them out, walking along the towpath at Bathwick like a married couple.'

'Arm in arm?'

'I didn't say a courting couple.'

'Side by side, then?'

She nodded. 'That suggests a much more permanent relationship, to my jaundiced eye.'

'I see. But you say the husband was present when the writing on the gallery window was discovered?'

'That's what's so amazing. He and AJ. were together all evening, looking after the picture sales. They don't act like rivals. In fact, they seemed to be getting on rather well.'

'And whose decision was it to rub out the writing?'

'Barnaby's. Jessica was all for calling the police, but he advised her that if she did, it was quite likely the words would be taken seriously.'

'It was entirely Barnaby's decision?'

'Well, not entirely. Jessica turned to me and asked what I thought, and I had to say it would ruin the party if they called the police. Sugar?' She handed a mug of tea to Diamond.