“Mr. Drewson will confirm the information I am about to relate to you in a far more succinct and efficient manner than you would be able to discover yourself.” She glanced at the butler, who nodded. She continued.

“A bottle of bitters went missing sometime between Wednesday morning, when Mr. Drewson was preparing for the Murder Club meeting that afternoon, and yesterday morning, when Mr. Drewson was packing up the supplies to be taken to St. Wendreda’s for the cocktail party. As all of the members of the Murder Club were here—along with Mr. Rollingbroke and Mr. Eugene Whittlesby—it appears that was when the bitters was taken from the Whittlesbys’ bar. Any one of them could have taken it; they were all, at various times, standing near the bar, which is where the bitters are kept.”

Cork’s mustache quivered and his eyes popped a little more than usual, but he didn’t speak. Constable Greensticks, who sat at the other end of the table, seemed quite taken by the rosemary popover that had been placed on a plate in front of him. Even from where she sat, Phyllida could see the rivulets of melted butter over its crispy golden top, and she silently mourned the fact that she hadn’t finished her Cornish pasty.

“Mr. Whittlesby did not park his sedan in the garage last night, which is unusual and also means that anyone could have had access to it overnight to cut the brake hoses,” she went on. “Under normal circumstances, I would suggest you skillfully interview the suspects to determine who has a mechanical ability or such pertinent knowledge, but in this case that would be a moot point. All of them are murder plotters, and so likely all of them would be well aware of where and how to cut a set of brake hoses in order to cause a lethal accident. It’s a rather common occurrence in detective stories,” she explained. “An easy way to get rid of a character, and often an excellent plot twist. And good writers do extensive research for their murder plots, so surely all of our suspects would know where to locate the brake hoses.”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Bright,” Cork replied with heavy irony. After a moment of silence, he said, “Is there anything else I should know, Mrs. Bright?”

She thought for a moment, then replied in the negative. After all, she hadn’t gotten the reports back from her network of downstairs folk via Molly.

“Are you quite certain?” Inspector Cork pressed. “You’ve nothing else to add, to suggest, to direct, or to command?”