But first, she was going to assist Inspector Cork with his interviews.

* * *

Once back inside the rectory kitchen, Phyllida finished preparing the tray of coffee and brought it into the sitting room.

Inspector Cork and Constable Greensticks made no effort to hide their pleasure at the delivery of the hot beverages, as well as the small platter of food she’d culled together from a few items in the priest’s larder and the cocktail party leftovers. The two policemen were alone in the room, having just finished an interview with the last of the amateur writers who’d traveled from out of town for the fête.

“My maid found this outside,” Phyllida told Inspector Cork, handing him the small bottle, which she’d wrapped in a napkin. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing gloves when she retrieved it.” She explained what she and Mr. Dobble had concluded about the bitters being substituted with a poisoned version. “This confirms that a second bottle was procured, tainted with nicotine, and then used to replace the one at the bar.”

“Mmph,” said the inspector from behind a mouthful of macaron.

“Indeed,” replied Phyllida, well versed in translating food-distorted comments. “Now to determine from whence it came.”

“Fancy drink, that View-whatsits,” said Inspector Cork once he’d washed down the cookie with some coffee. “Don’t understand why the bloke can’t drink a plain whisky or ale like every other man.”

Phyllida privately agreed, although she also admitted she was intrigued enough to want to sample a Vieux Carré herself. She was quite partial to a good rye whisky.

“It would be reasonable to conclude that whoever poisoned the bitters must be fully aware of Mr. Whittlesby’s cocktail preference—and not only that, but have some way to obtain this very specialized ingredient,” said Phyllida as she poured coffee into another cup for the constable. “Someone visiting from outside of Listleigh for the Murder Fête would be far less likely to know about it. And whoever obtained it must have planned well in advance. It’s hardly an item one can pick up at the local market.”

“Right,” said Cork. “But we’ll interview every attendee, regardless. Constable, take your coffee into the next room. You can finish speaking to anyone who’s not local, and I’ll talk to those from around here. That will speed things up a bit.”

“Quite so,” she replied, pleased at the inspector’s efficient suggestion. “And it’s of paramount importance to determine who had the opportunity to swap the bottles at the bar counter. Determining the movement of each individual as much as possible during the evening would be very instructive. Perhaps even creating a diagram,” she murmured, more for herself than as a suggestion to the inspector.