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have been eating peanuts just before they met her and then shook hands with her. But all the students had scattered and probably wouldn’t even have remembered such a little thing. And they couldn’t test the mushroom quiche to see if it had been tainted in some way—because there wasn’t any left. Everyone had eaten it all.”
    “Disposing of the evidence!” Evangeline came dangerously close to licking her chops at the thought.
    “But no one had any ill effects,” I said. “So the quiche was probably innocent. I’d go with the idea of the sloppy student.”
    “But the police would have liked to make sure—and they were annoyed with me because I’d already washed all the pots and pans.”
    “So there was nothing left to test,” Evangeline said slowly.
    “Edytha would have washed up, too!” Jocasta defended. “We always did. Those pots and pans were Melisande’s demonstration set, her best. They’d been donated by the manufacturer for the publicity. She always used them and took them home all clean and ready to use at her next appearance.”
    “Neat.” Martha nodded and I had the uneasy feeling that she was making mental notes for future use herself.
    “She was.” The tears were close again. “Neat and tidy and organised … everything I’m not. Banquo adored her!” Jocasta wailed.
    “I’m not going to be the one to tell him she’s dead. Edytha says—they all say—it’s my duty to tell him because it happened on my watch. But it’s not! And I won’t! I can’t!”
    She gulped down the last of her brandy, slumped back in the chair, and sobbed herself comatose.
    “You might as well put her to bed.” Evangeline divided her imperative look between Martha and me, distancing herself completely from the proceedings. “We’ll get no more out of her today.”

Chapter Seven
    I woke in the morning with the feeling that today had to be better. How could it not be? Yesterday had gone from bad to worse after we got Jocasta to bed. Martha’s mood had not improved, even though I’d taken Jocasta’s place as her assistant. Evangeline, naturally, had disappeared after she announced that she had a few errands to do and couldn’t say when she’d be back and not to bother about supper for her. I had looked again at Martha and envied Evangeline’s escape.
    Yes, today had to be an improvement. I sighed deeply and shifted Cho-Cho so that I could get up. She made an indistinct sound, somewhere between a purr and a grumble, then jumped down and followed me into the kitchen.
    There was no sign of Jocasta, not that I’d really expected there would be. Martha hadn’t arrived yet, but from the mood she’d been in when she left yesterday, I wasn’t expecting her before noon. If then.
    Savouring the momentary peace, I fed Cho-Cho and brewed a pot of coffee. As well as the bread, there were a couple of muffins in the bread box, but they didn’t tempt me. I looked around for something more interesting and noticed the packet of sesame seeds on the counter.
    Yes! It had been a long time since I’d had it, but I’d treat myself to sesame semi-toast. I took a slice of bread from the loaf, buttered it more enthusiastically than usual, and sprinkled a lavish handful of sesame seeds over it, pressing them down into the butter, then popped it seed side up under the grill. A delicious aroma seeped into the kitchen as the savoury seeds turned brown. When they were somewhere between mid and deep brown, I turned the grill off and took out my prize.
    Cho-Cho leaped up on the table to investigate, sniffing the air delicately.
    “It’s delicious,” I told her, “but I don’t think you’d truly be interested.” Just in case, I broke off a corner and offered it to her. Let’s face it; I was already planning a second piece as soon as I’d finished this one.
    “Mmm…” Cho-Cho might not be that interested, but Evangeline stood in the doorway, also sniffing. “Whatever that is, I’ll have some.” She poured