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want to read about the Government intruding in other people’s lives: an intrusion that usually takes the shape of a Chinook helicopter overhead and the muzzle of a machine gun in your face.’
    He turned to the body of Claire with a zealot’s gleam in his eye.
    â€˜This, on the other hand, is
a body in the library
!’
    Had Wikipedia or the Dean been younger or American, they might have whooped or done a dance of victory here. Their elation was almost sexual. Tom felt suddenly uncomfortable, the odd man out.
    â€˜So, Dean,’ Wikipedia said. ‘What you are proposing is a competition between us and the modern state. Whoever solves the crime first wins? Nothing but intellectual pride at stake. Rather unfair, don’t you think? Harharhar.’
    He had an unpleasant forced laugh that cut itself off dead.
    â€˜The police must, of course, remain within the law,’ the Dean continued, ‘and they don’t know they are in a competition, but they have far greater resources at their disposal.’
    Wikipedia rubbed his hands together. Tom could hardly take his eyes off them: it was like watching snakes writhe.
    â€˜Tom, you ring the police,’ suggested Wikipedia. ‘Tell them we have found A Body in the Library. They’ll never believe you, of course. I’ll have a look at this spear and the aforementioned body, if I may.’
    Wikipedia squatted down and touched her forehead.
    â€˜Still warm,’ he murmured to the Dean, who squatted next to him. Tom, using the phone on the desk, got through to the police station at St Aldgate’s. It took him a full five minutes to persuade someone he was not wasting police time. Eventually the police agreed to come. He put the phone down and joined the two men.
    â€˜Now,’ said the Dean. ‘The first question we have to ask ourselves is whether Claire had any enemies.’
    â€˜Enemies?’ said Wikipedia ‘Good Lord! Did she have any
friends
?’
    â€˜Yes, well, it doesn’t make it any easier,’ agreed the Dean. ‘We shall have to draw up a longlist. Tom? Grab a pencil and paper, will you? We should write this down. I am thinking first of Yardley, who hated her for not using his books on her course, and whom she regularly teased about his speech impediment. Then there is Mrs Robinson, who hates – hated I should say, dear God – her because she was always so rude about her cooking. Then there is Rex, of course, whom she thought elderly and homosexualist – a fatal combination – and then poor dear Celia, who so hated Claire for telling Rex about all those previous engagements. Then there is Miss Featherstonehaugh, whom she ridiculed for being A Bit Like Miss Marple, but who might be thought of as being a touch on the frail side for fighting with spears, which might, I suppose, rule her out, but then there is Lord Denbeigh, who detested her because she was c-o-m-m-o-n.’
    The Dean spelled the word out, peering around him as he did, as if just saying it were enough to evoke the forces of darkness.
    â€˜As good a reason as any to murder someone,’ chimed Wikipedia. ‘Happens all the time.’
    Tom scribbled away.
    â€˜Then there is poor Father Dennis,’ continued the Dean, ‘whom she persuaded that people had been lying to him all his life and that he was not, in fact, black but a Native American Indian. He might, now that I come to think of it, be the most natural person to be throwing a spear about the place, were it not for the fact that he is blind. Again, that is something that might just rule him out, unless he did it in cahoots with Thorneycroft, whose deafness has only served to enhance his sense of touchiness, and who hated Claire for calling him Ironsides and ‘The-seeing-eye-dog-of-Tonto’ in that absurd cod ‘Red Injun’ voice she used to put on, although to be fair, this part of the Library is not equipped for wheelchair access, and