Chapter 77

• We pushed our way through the narrow corridor, careful not to bump into the dusty frames that lined the walls. We entered the room and found Thelma Drabblestone sitting in a chair, her knees covered in pink fleece. She was a small lady, no more than thirty years old, with grey hair and a worn-out face. When we walked in, she smiled and beamed at us "Good evening, young adventurers. Tell me, are you here to murder me?"
• "Um - no," I replied. "I've come to ask you some questions about a friend of mine who has been accused of a terrible crime."
• She responded, looking disappointed "It's a shame because I was hoping to die today. I keep praying to Saint Peter, but he never answers. Maybe you could pray for him. He comes to me from time to time to talk about the garden; I think he's mad at all the cats, but what can we do? The cats don't understand what we're saying! Oh no, "She came to a halt, her gaze drifting to an empty corner of the room. "See, she brings the cats in with her, and they think it's okay to come into our garden and cause havoc. You must not bring in stray cats, Violet. You must be a good girl, or I will inform your papa."