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floor was still in the car he came in, which is to say the one with the larger number of bullet holes in it. He had no identification of any sort on him and there’s something peculiar about the license plates, but they’ve sent his fingerprints to the RCMP and put out inquiries and all that stuff. They’re going to get back to us as soon as they have any further information. How do you feel, dear?”
    “Hungry, oddly enough,” Dittany replied. “Otherwise I’m fine. What time is it?”
    “Heavens to goodness, it’s after twelve and I haven’t done a thing about Donald’s lunch,” cried Mrs. MacVicar. “And I’d promised him cullen skink. I expect your mother has a meal ready and waiting for you.”
    That was the polite way of saying she wished they’d get out from under her feet so that she could go back to her kitchen. Dittany knew perfectly well her mother wouldn’t have prepared a noon meal; Clorinda and Arethusa were going to the inn. However, she didn’t say so because then Mrs. MacVicar would feel duty bound to invite them to stay and she was not at all sure how her stomach would react to cullen skink.
    By now, the real excitement seemed to be over. People were still going in and out of the Yarnery but they were either on serious errands or making a decent pretense at being. Officers Bob and Ray must have got word on their radio that the cars had been found, for they drove up in the police car to take over the arm-waving and leave Sergeant MacVicar free to come home.
    As he was about to cross back to his house, the Siamese twins emerged from the shop and walked briskly, one forward and one backward, in the direction of the inn. Miss Jane must be regretting that she couldn’t take time out to serve them the elegant luncheon she’d no doubt had ready in her rooms over the shop. However, they would certainly have understood how impossible that was, considering the commotion they’d already witnessed and no doubt having got a hair-raising earful about what had happened at the Yarnery earlier on. Dittany and Osbert took their leave of Mrs. MacVicar, then lurked in the doorway so that they wouldn’t seem to be tracking the twins in a spirit of vulgar curiosity.
    “I could whiz home and bring the car around if you don’t mind waiting another few minutes,” Osbert offered. “Are you sure you feel like walking back, darling?”
    “Yes,” Dittany replied, “but I’m not sure I feel much like cooking lunch. Mum forgot the list I’d made out when she went grocery shopping yesterday and brought back mostly candied ginger and pickled mushrooms, neither of which I feel particularly in the mood for just now. I tell you what, why don’t you and I stroll over to the inn ourselves? That is, if you’d care to invite a female blimp out in public?”
    “Why, Miz Dittany, ma’am,” Osbert replied enthusiastically, “how could I not want to be seen with a purty little lady like you? Shucks, if I’d o’ knowed we was steppin’ out on the town, I’d o’ wore my Sunday socks.”
    “Now Deputy Monk, you know you look lovely in your mail-order shirt. That green-and-yellow plaid just matches my complexion,” his bulging consort replied.
    In fact Dittany was blooming. As soon as she’d found out she was going to be dressing for three, she’d gone on a spree at the Babyland Boutique in Scottsbeck. Today she was wearing an outfit of blue denim that must have been designed with the pregnant prairie princess in mind. It had ruffles around the skirt, the sleeves, the pockets, the yoke, and the neck, every ruffle edged in scarlet braid. Dittany rather wished she’d thought to borrow her mother’s red cartwheel hat to set off her ensemble; but perhaps the ruffles were offsetting enough. She took Osbert’s arm and let him escort her solicitously the short way to the inn.
    The dining room was not yet crowded, but it was getting there. While most of the patrons were making a decent pretense of keeping their eyes