The Circle by Peter Lovesey Read Free Book Online Page B

own curiosity. 'What sort of trouble?'
    She hesitated and took a look around the empty shop. 'You will treat this as confidential?'
    'If you want.'
    She started rearranging the skirts hanging on a circular rail, as if it helped to occupy her hands. 'He had a dispute with a neighbour when he was living in Brighton some years ago. I happen to know because I was living in Hove and read about it in the Argus. This man was extremely unpleasant. He had some kind of boatbuilding business and his garden was full of timber, front and back. I don't know all the details, but there were planks and things stacked against the fence, the fence owned by Maurice, and one day it collapsed under the weight. Maurice asked him to repair it and got a mouthful of abuse. The man had two of those fierce guard dogs. Black and brown. What are they called?'
    'Rottweilers?'
    'Yes, and they now had the run of Maurice's garden. He was afraid to open his back door. They took over the garden, fouling it and making it their own territory. He tried reporting the man to the council and nothing was done. His life became a misery. So he took the law into his own hands. He shot the dogs with a shotgun he owned and made a bonfire of the wood that had tipped over into his garden.
    Unfortunately the fire got out of control and spread next door and destroyed a shed and a couple of the boats the neighbour was working on. Apparently they were worth a lot of money. The firemen were called, and the police, and Maurice was arrested. There was a lot of sympathy for him locally, but he was charged with causing criminal damage and' - she drew a sharp breath - 'found guilty and sent to prison. I can't remember how long it was - a few months, I think.'
    'Bit steep.'
    'I'm glad you agree.'
    'Mind,' he said, 'shooting the dogs wasn't clever. That wouldn't have helped. You get the picture of a bloke with a short fuse.'
    'It had gone on for months.'
    'Yeah, but you can't argue it was an accident.'
    'You're right,' she said.
    'And it won't help him now.'
    'That's why I'm so worried for him.'
    'Throw in the fact that it's a fire again,' Bob said, speaking more to himself than Miss Snow.
    'But the two events are quite different.'
    'Unless you're a cop looking to nick someone. Then it adds up neatly. An angry man with a record of fire-raising.'
    'Don't!'
    'He's in deep. He had the motive, the opportunity and this. He's got no alibi.'
    'But surely his partner must know where he was.'
    'I spoke to her yesterday,' Bob said. 'Maurice went out about eleven on the night of the fire and she didn't hear him come in.'
    She stared. 'You went to see her?'
    Thomasine and Dagmar asked me to.'
    All this took her a moment to absorb, then she recovered. 'You see? We're all turning to you for help.'
    'God knows why,' Bob said with feeling. 'How do you know he didn't do this?'
    'Maurice? Oh, no.'
    'You only see one side of him.'
    She leaned forward and eyeballed him intently. 'Mr Naylor—'
    'Bob. No one calls me that.'
    'Then you must call me Amelia.'
    By Miss Snow's lights this was probably as reckless as it gets. She was in earnest, no question. 'Maurice is a gentleman in every sense of the word. It wouldn't cross his mind to make an attack at night on someone asleep in his bed.'
    'You mean he'd blast him with his shotgun?'
    It was a flip remark and wasn't appreciated. 'Not Maurice.'
    'Look at it this way, em, Amelia,' Bob said. 'If he didn't do it, we're looking for some other geezer. The police won't give up on Maurice without someone else in the frame. Are we going to do their work for them?'
    'It needn't come to that'
    'Like I said, he's got no alibi. His partner Fran is bricking it, but she's no help. She knows he was out on the night of the murder and she's not going to cover up for him.'
    'This is so distressing.'
    'If we knew more about the murdered guy, it might help. You heard him speak to the circle. What was he like?'
    'Friendly. He encouraged some of us to believe we might get into print