You'd Be So Good

I don't know how she did it, says Victor. Perhaps with a hammer. Or one of  those whatsits on chains.

A thurible, says Nicolo

I didn't do it, says the Kroombit tinker.

No she didn't, says Arthur. 

Perhaps she had an accomplice, says Victor. One of you, for example. 

We were over there, looking at the portrait of Dante, says Arthur.

A likely story, says Victor. Will the portrait of Dante collaborate your story? I think not.

There's someone who will, says Nicolo.

Lead me to him, says Victor.

Her, says Nicolo.

Him, says Arthur.

No need for him to get into trouble, says Nicolo.

True, says Arthur.

Careful! says the Kroombit tinker. The floor's oily.

Victor looks down at the oily footprints leading to the Madonna.

You're not trying to blame HER? says Victor. That takes the cake. But let me examine these footprints. Hmm. They're quite small.

He has reached the end of the central nave, where the Madonna is sitting with Sweetpea.

Look, a policeman! says Sweetpea.

All are welcome, says the Madonna. 

Victor is surprised that she talks.

Thank you, madam, says Victor. I wonder if you'd be so good....

Ha ha! laughs Sweetpea.

Stop that, Sweetpea. It's just an expression, says the Madonna. Yes, policeman?

There has been some damage to your floor, says Victor. And it seems the frog is unlikely to have done it.

The Kroombit tinker looks relieved.

Oh, that, says the Madonna. It may have been done my Sweetpea. He slipped on the oil, and probably chipped a mosaic. Luckily he didn't damage his bottom.

Sweetpea weighs up the pros and cons of showing the policeman his bottom.

And wisely, decides against it.

Very well, says Victor. Perhaps we'll leave it at that.

Don't you want to know why the oil was spilled in the first place? asks the Madonna. You may need to lodge a report.

Yes, of course, says Victor. 

Sweetpea's feet smelled of goat's cheese, says the Madonna. I suggested he use the feet-washing water, which we keep in the store room. But he can't read well, and he picked up the olio santa.

Christmas oil? asks Victor.

Holy oil, says the Madonna. 

I see, says Victor. 

You need to improve your Italian, says the Madonna.