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Warm Milk

Me: How are things at the Agatha Christie hotel?

Nell: Extremely tense.

Me: They don’t look tense, Nell. It’s absolutely beautiful there.

Nell: Where there’s beauty there’s danger. Look at swans.

Me: I don’t want to look at swans.

Nell: Beautiful creatures with nasty tempers.

Me: Are there swans staying at the hotel then?

Nell: Not as far as I know, but nothing would surprise me.

Me: No.

Nell: Now, the hotel are looking for kitchen staff and Malcolm and Manuel have an interview at 3pm.

Me: But we need them here at home.

Nell: It’s only for now. There is something going on in that kitchen.

Me: Can’t Poppy deal with it? If the cooking isn’t up to standard she’ll sort it out.

Nell: No. Poppy has to stay out of it. We think she was drugged.

Me: Oh my goodness.

Nell: And if The Cat liked warm milk it would have been too.

Me: I thought all cats liked milk.

Nell: That’s not the point. Someone sent warm milk to Poppy’s room the night her sword was stolen. She thought it was from me.

Me: Why?

Nell: The note said ‘A little something to help you sleep my friend.’

Me: I’m sorry Nell but that sounds extremely sinister. There’s no way I would have drunk that. Apart from the fact that I hate warm milk.

Nell: So does The Cat. When it found its milk it asked Room Service to take it away. We wish it hadn’t now, of course.

Me: That’s a bit mean. The Cat can be a little over dramatic but still.

Nell: It would have been evidence. Do keep up.

Me: Oh, well. I suppose there’s no point in crying over warm milk.

Nell: Just go and tell Malcolm and Manuel.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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