With a capitulating sigh, Inspector Cork turned his attention to the more accommodating Mr. Billdop. Without beating around the bush, he began with: “Do you know any reason someone might want to kill Mr. Whittlesby?”

“Oh. Oh.” The vicar seemed taken aback by this abrupt question. “So it’s true, then? That the—uh—poison was meant for Alastair and not Father Tooley?”

“That appears to be the case, Mr. Billdop. Now, if you would answer my question.”

“Oh. Oh. Well, hmm . . . one does hear things, you know. Being a man of the cloth.” Phyllida attributed Mr. Billdop’s noisy slurp of tea as due more to nerves than ill manners. “People do tend to confide in clergy, you know.”

“And what does one hear, when one is a man of the cloth?” asked Inspector Cork.

“Well . . . hmm . . . I suppose I might just as well say it. Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it? Inspector, the frank truth is that Alastair Whittlesby is not a popular person in Listleigh. He puts on airs that he has no business wearing, if you will, and he’s simply not very Christian. Why, do you hear the way he speaks to his wife? He’s even worse to his servants, and I simply don’t condone rudeness to anyone, no matter how lowly. After all, didn’t Jesus care for the leper and the blind man? And the prostitutes?”

“He did at that,” replied the inspector. “Other than rudeness—which is a rather weak motive for murder—do you know of any other reason someone might want to rid themselves of Mr. Whittlesby?”

“Well,” said Mr. Billdop, “nearly everyone in the Murder Club has had an altercation with him. Except for myself, of course.”

“I understand Mr. Whittlesby has a high opinion of his own writing,” said Cork, impressing Phyllida with his grasp of how sensitive and possessive authors were about their work.

“Quite so,” replied the vicar earnestly. “Why, he had the club over to his house on Wednesday to lord it over us that soon he would be published on both sides of the Atlantic, and have a literary agent because he’s going to win the contest.”

“What sorts of altercations have the other members of your—er—club had with Alastair Whittlesby?”