“Ugh!” said Betsy. “The things you know.”

“These are things you encounter when you investigate homicides. I think Hud’s right, you aren’t cut out for this sort of stuff.”

“Hud? When did you talk with him about me?”

“He didn’t tell me, he told Shelly. Shelly told me. Didn’t I warn you about her? She’s the most terrific gossip I’ve ever known.”

“And in this town that’s saying something,” said Betsy. “So she’s the one who told Hud you and I went to the Guthrie.”

“Yes, she told me he told her he wished it could have been him taking you out. Those two talk on the phone a couple of times a week.”

“Hud’s a suspect, you know.”

“Hud?”

“You’re the one who told me they quarreled.”

“That was years ago!”

“Actually his motive has nothing to do with the quarrel; it’s that T‘ang horse. Margot went to see it on that Wednesday, and then went to see Hud upset—he says because she snagged her stockings again in that storage room and wanted to know when they’d get the new exhibit set up. That night she was murdered, the shop was ransacked, and the only things still missing are the T’ang needlepoint and her sketchbook in which she was making a new copy of it. What’s more, not only does he not have an alibi, a Rolls-Royce was in an Excelsior parking lot that night.”

Jill stared at her. “How do you know that?”

“Irene said she saw Joe Mickels ducking down behind a big dark car, an imitation convertible with a hood ornament. I remember those imitation convertibles, and none of them had hood ornaments. In fact the only car with a hood ornament I can remember is a Rolls-Royce—and Hud owns a Rolls that has a beautifully made convertible top, so perfectly fitted you might think it was one of those cars with the fabric top. And Joe Mickels remembers the hood ornament looked like a fairy, which pretty much describes the Rolls ornament.”

Jill thought a minute. “You know, Betsy, Hud doesn’t own the only Rolls-Royce in the state. Or the county, for that matter. Probably half of their owners don’t have alibis. You can’t go around saying this kind of thing without more proof than that!”

“I wonder how many Rolls-Royces there are in Minnesota?”

Jill frowned at her. “I don’t know. I’ve seen a few.”

“How many?”

She thought. “Two, maybe three, right in this area.”