The Circle (11 page)

'Isn't that dangerous?' Dagmar said.

'More dangerous for the killer.'

'But we don't have the authority to call a meeting. It's up to the chair and the secretary to decide about that.'

'The chair's in the slammer and the secretary's dead. If someone doesn't make a move we'll never get them together. Who else is on the committee?'

'Dagmar and me,' Thomasine said. 'Oh, what the hell, let's go for it. What do you say, Dag?'

He did a day's work before calling at the police station to make the statement. From the cool reaction he'd got in the morning he guessed the rozzers wouldn't be too worried if he forgot the whole thing, but he had his own agenda. He was going to find out if they knew anything he didn't.

He was seen by a friendly plain-clothes man the shape and size of a shot-putter.

'Mr Naylor, I'm glad you came. We already spoke to your daughter.'

'What's she been up to?'

'We were looking for you, to make this statement.'

'Funny. No one gave a monkey's this morning.'

'It's a full-scale murder inquiry now. There was a body in the house.'

'The lady who lived there. I told your inspector.'

'It's got to be identified. We're not even certain yet if it was male or female.'

'Amelia Snow.'

'We don't take anything for granted. The fire really took off, as you would have seen. Do you want to tape this statement or write it down?'

'Tape sounds like less work.'

'I'll see which room is free.'

When they were inside an interview room and seated, the officer said, 'This is Chichester police station.'

'I know,' Bob said.'I live here.'

'That was for the tape.'

He smiled and gave a shrug. 'Sorry, squire.'

'Twentieth of July, two thousand and five. I'm DC Shilling, the interviewing officer—'

'And I'm Bob Naylor.'

'Right. Would you read out what's on this card?'

'"I make this statement of my own free will. I understand that I need not say anything unless I wish to do so and that what I say may be given in evidence." Right?' He went over the salient details of the last few days, starting with the call from Miss Snow asking for the return of the video. 'She said someone from the police had asked for it 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.

Gwyn Thomas,
The Keep
(1961)

W
ish 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?'

'The risk of stepping into a dead woman's shoes.'

Dagmar took in a sharp breath. 'Are you saying she was killed because she was secretary?'

'I haven't the faintest why she was killed, my dear, but it has to be a possibility.'

'Surely not,'Jessie said, looking to right and left. 'We're a harmless organisation, aren't we?'

Nobody spoke, but the way Naomi rolled her eyes was eloquent enough.

Jessie's question hung in the air until Dagmar, white-faced, said, 'I think I'll stand down after this meeting.'

Thomasine glared at Tudor. 'Well, we don't have to rush this. Next time someone else may like to volunteer.'

'What are we going to do about dear old Maurice?' Basil said. 'He's still being held by the police when it's patently obvious he's an innocent man. We've had three attacks of arson and he couldn't possibly have carried out the last two.'

'I'm afraid the woodentops don't think that way,' Tudor said. 'They'll let him go when they're ready, and not before. They can pretty well do as they like.'

Zach nodded and said, 'Fascist pigs.'

'They'll be carrying out forensic tests,' Anton said. 'If the results are in his favour, they'll let him go.'

'You have a touching faith in the Old Bill,' Tudor said.

Thomasine in her stand-in role as chair said, 'One of the reasons I wanted to call this meeting is that after what's happened we're sure to get some attention from the press.'

'Some
attention?' Anton said.

Tudor said, 'They'll hang us out to dry.'

Jessie said, 'What on earth does that mean?'

'They'll have our guts for garters, then.'

Jessie said, 'Please!' Whether it was the guts or the garters that upset her was impossible to tell.

Anton came to her rescue. 'Tudor, we
are
a literary organisation. I suggest we leave vulgarisms in the street where they belong.' For Jessie's benefit, he said, 'The gist is that the press will take advantage of us.'

'Why?'Jessie said. 'We've nothing to be ashamed of.' She hesitated and her expression altered. 'Have we?'

'It's how it looks to an outsider that matters,' Thomasine said. 'We invited a speaker to our meeting and he was killed shortly after. Our new recruit Bob was caught in another fire and almost killed. And now our secretary is murdered. People are going to point out that the circle is the common factor. We're sure to come under the microscope.'

'So what are you saying, that we'd better agree on how to deal with the jackals?' Tudor said.

'In a word, yes.'

'A spokesman?' Basil said.

'A press officer.'

'Cool,' Zach said. 'Like it'

'Someone we can refer them to,' Thomasine said, encouraged by the support. 'If we're not careful they'll be picking us off, paying us bribes for titbits of gossip about each other.'

'How ghastly!' Jessie said. You could see in her face the prospect of her reputation disintegrating.

Naomi spoke up for the first time. She had been a brooding, unsettling presence until now. 'So who do you suggest for press officer?'

'I can handle it,' Tudor offered.

'We don't want him,' Naomi said to Thomasine. 'He can't keep anything to himself. We want someone who can stonewall.'

Basil shook his head. 'Not me, my dear.'

She said with contempt, 'I'm not talking about garden maintenance. You'd be useless. I propose Bob.'

'Me?' Caught off guard, Bob trotted out his usual excuse. 'I'm not even a full member yet.'

'That's neither here nor there,' Naomi said. 'If we appoint you, it's because you're well qualified.'

'Me? I've never done anything like it.'

'Personality-wise, you're the best we've got.'

'That's a laugh.'

'Don't you want to do this?'

'I'd rather not, if we can find someone else.'

'You see?' Thomasine said with the sweep of a hand, looking around the table. 'He's a born stonewaller.'

This produced the first smiles of the evening.

She rode her advantage like a surfer. 'Can we have a show of hands for Bob as our press rep?'

Bob was the only one who didn't raise a hand.

Zach said, 'Sorted.'

'Outgunned,' Thomasine said with a smile at Bob. 'If any of us is approached by the media, refer them to Bob Naylor. Right, Bob?'

'I guess.'

Thomasine moved on. 'We can also be certain that the police will want to question some of us, if not all.'

Jessie said in a strangled tone, 'Oh no!'

Tudor said, 'What's your problem with that?'

'I don't want a police car parked outside my house.'

'Worried about curtain-twitchers, is it? Let's face it, we're all potential suspects now. They're going to put us through the mincer.'

Jessie looked as if she'd been put through the mincer already.

'The point I'm making,' Thomasine said, 'is that Bob can cope with the press, and I'm sure he'll do it brilliandy, but we can't ask him to fend off the police as well. Each of us is going to have to deal with them individually.'

'Dangerous,' Anton said.

'Which is why I raised the matter.'

'Neat,' Zach said. 'A game plan.'

'Something like that. We're awfully vulnerable. We give out a lot about ourselves at circle meetings, and that's to be encouraged. It's part of the writing process, using our life experiences. So we all know some pretty intimate details about each other from the things we read out. I, for one, wouldn't want my innermost thoughts passed on to the police.'

'Nureyev's tights?' Tudor said.

'Tudor . . . please.'

Anton said, 'Our acting chair is speaking good sense. Let's agree not to pass on personal information.'

'Fair enough.' Tudor eyed the youngest member, Sharon, at the end of the table. 'No tittle and no tattle, right?'

'Certain people have a gift for it,' Anton said with a hard look at Tudor.

Zach said, 'All okay on that? Fingers up to the fuzz.'

Thomasine was quick to say, 'No, I'm not saying we shouldn't cooperate. Answer the questions they're entitled to ask, about your own movements, where you were on the night of the fire and so on. Just don't be tempted to comment on other members of the circle.'

'Whatever your private suspicions may be,' Naomi said, leaving no doubt she had plenty.

Dagmar said, 'I'm not bothered about talking to the police. What worries me is something far more sinister.'

'What's that?' Jessie asked.

'We're all potential victims now.'

There was a moment while everyone took that in.

'What - do you think he's going to pick us off one by one?' Tudor said. 'Why would he do that? We're just a bunch of amateur writers. No one is threatened by us.'

'Miss Snow wasn't threatening anybody. I can't think of anyone less threatening than she was.'

'We don't know why Miss Snow was picked.'

'Well, I'm going to take precautions,' Dagmar said.

'What can you do?'

'Get a letterbox fitted outside my house. Then I can seal up the front door and sleep easy at night.'

'While he lobs a firebomb through your front room window,' Tudor said. 'If someone really wants to get you, my love, they will.'

'Oh my God!'

'You're not helping,' Thomasine said to Tudor. 'Some of our members are extremely frightened.'

Tudor raised a hand to acknowledge another gaffe. 'Sorry, people.'

At this critical moment in the meeting another hand was raised. No one would have predicted that the usually silent Sharon had something to say.

Thomasine said in a surprised tone, 'Yes, my dear?'

'Are you going to ask if anyone's got a success to report?'

If anything could relieve the tension, this was it. There were smiles and some gentle laughter.

'I hadn't planned on it,' Thomasine said, 'but why not? We could do with some good news.'

'Well, you know I've always got a pencil in my hand?' She held it up for all to see.

'Right. We've seen the doodles you do.'

'A little while ago I started doing pictures of the salon where I work, the people, I mean, and just for a laugh I put balloons out of their mouths with stuff they're saying, the funny things you hear when you're in the chair with your hair in curlers. Know what I mean?'

'Captions,' Tudor said.

Anton said, 'Wrong.'

'What do you mean, "wrong"?' Tudor said.

'Speech bubbles. She's referring to speech bubbles.'

'Yeah, man,' Sharon said, looking up from the doodle she was working on and pointing a finger at Anton. 'Any road, some of my friends thought they was wicked and why didn't I take the best stuff round to that free newspaper that started up last year. So I did, and they liked them so much they want to print them.'

'Marvellous!' Thomasine said, genuinely pleased. 'Congratulations!'

'It's not real writing, so I didn't know if it counts, but I'll be getting twenty-five pound for each strip they use.'

'Hey, that's brilliant, and don't play it down. Of course it's real writing. You'll have a regular income from your work, which is more than any of us can boast.'

'That's what I wanted to say, then.'

'Is it just the hairdresser's in this strip,' Tudor asked, 'or are you featuring other locations? From here some of the drawings seem to bear a close resemblance to members of the circle.'

She slid her hand over the paper. 'No, I wouldn't do that. It's only about the salon.'

'Pity,' he said, 'I wouldn't mind being in a strip cartoon.'

Anton chose this moment to fire another broadside at Tudor. 'You're full of suggestions. If I remember correctly, it was you who urged us all to use the fire at Edgar Blacker's cottage as the inspiration for our writing. I'm so pleased I ignored you. Now that Miss Snow has died it would be in the worst possible taste.'

Jessie said, 'Oh my word, yes!'

There was a rueful smile from Tudor.

The biggest reaction came from Naomi. She jerked forward, frowning, and looked across at Zach. 'Inspiration for our writing?'

Clearly uneasy, Zach said, 'I don't think you were there, Naomi. This was the evening we met in the pub and Maurice had just been released by the police.'

Basil started to say, 'It was the evening you were trapped—'

But Naomi cut in. 'I know which evening it was, Basil.'

Anton wouldn't let it rest. 'I propose that we agree here and now that it would be deplorable for any member of the circle to use these tragedies as subject matter for our writing.'

Jessie said, 'Hear, hear. I second that.'

Naomi turned to see if Zach would say anything.

After some hesitation he cleared his throat. 'Hold on. That sounds like censorship to me. There's a principle at stake here. Freedom of expression.'

'I agree,' Naomi said.

Dagmar said, 'Noted.'

With all the experience of a thousand meetings in the Department of Ancient Monuments, Anton said, 'Madam Chair, I have made a proposal and it was seconded. I insist that it is put to the vote.'