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names.’
    ‘Names?’ said Lily.
    ‘Who knew about the jaguars. Who knew the dogs’ names. You know. Suspects. People who visit Mr Newton. Who could’ve done this. We’ll have to talk to Mr Newton when he’s able, but for now, what can you come up with?’
    Lily stared at him blankly. ‘No one. No one I know would do this.’
    ‘Well,’ said Maroney placidly, ‘someone did. Think, please.’
    She shrugged. ‘His children. They visit him. I don’t think they stole the jaguars.’
    ‘He’s—’
    ‘Divorced,’ said Lily. ‘For about fifteen years.’
    ‘Names?’
    ‘James and Ellen.’
    He wrote them down. ‘How old are they?’
    ‘Jimmy’s twenty and Ellen’s twenty-two.’
    ‘How does he get along with them?’
    She shrugged. ‘OK, as far as I know. I’m usually on vacation when they’re here.’
    ‘When were they here last?’
    ‘Late August. They come every August.’ She hesitated. ‘Come to think of it, last summer Jimmy didn’t make it. He was working up in New Hampshire and couldn’t get away.’
    ‘So he didn’t see his son all year?’
    Lily shrugged. ‘I guess not.’
    ‘But you say he gets along OK with his kids?’
    ‘Ellen, anyway. I think there’s some tension between him and Jimmy. He doesn’t talk much about it.’
    ‘What about Mr Newton’s wife?’
    ‘I told you. He’s divorced.’
    Maroney looked up. ‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘His ex-wife, then. Does she visit him?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘But she probably knows about the jaguars. From the children.’
    Lily rolled her eyes. ‘I doubt that Sheila came down, hit Jeff on the head, tied up Brady, and stole the jaguars.’
    ‘It was two men,’ I said.
    ‘OK,’ said the cop. ‘Who else?’
    ‘Well,’ said Lily, ‘his insurance person. She comes by now and then. She certainly knows about the jaguars, what they’re worth. At least as likely a suspect as his children.’
    ‘Name?’
    ‘Miss Kline,’ she said. ‘Jeff calls her Tory. For Victoria. Tory Kline. She’s with the Seacoast Agency in Hyannis. They broker all his insurance, and she’s the agent he deals with. She arranged the policy for the jaguars. Also the homeowner’s policy, life insurance, my automobile, and so forth. She helped Jeff get his claim for disability.’
    ‘You know a lot about Mr Newton’s business,’ said Maroney mildly.
    ‘Yes,’ said Lily. ‘I do. I take care of him.’
    Maroney was writing into his notebook. ‘Hyannis, you said?’
    Lily nodded. ‘The Seacoast Agency.’
    ‘When was she here?’
    ‘She’s been here several times.’
    ‘Most recently?’
    She gazed up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know. Last winter sometime, I guess. Periodically she calls, wants to come over to sell Jeff more insurance. He generally lets her come.’
    ‘What’d you say those cats are insured for?’
    ‘Seven hundred seventy thousand,’ I said.
    ‘Good thing,’ said Maroney. ‘Anybody else you can think of?’ He looked from Lily to me.
    ‘Well, Dr Sauerman,’ I said. ‘He comes every week to examine Mr Newton.’
    ‘And what exactly is the matter with Mr Newton?’ Maroney arched his eyebrows.
    ‘He was mauled by an African leopard,’ I said. ‘He spent six months in a Nairobi hospital. Bad infection, serious wounds. He still needs medical treatment. He used to be a professional hunter.’
    ‘The Great White Hunter, huh?’ said Kinney, smirking so that his fat cheeks bunched up and his eyes became slits.
    ‘They’re called professional hunters,’ said Lily. ‘Sometimes professional white hunters. Never great white hunters, except maybe in movies. To call a professional hunter a great white hunter is to reveal ignorance.’
    Kinney squinted at her for a minute, then shrugged.
    ‘He’s really got a thing for cats, though, huh?’ said Maroney.
    ‘I suppose so,’ said Lily.
    ‘Alan Sauerman,’ said Maroney, looking sideways at Kinney.
    Kinney nodded. ‘Sure. The Doc’
    ‘He was here last evening,’ I said. ‘He