"Yes I know of Horst," Mrs Snodgrass said. "The canine from Bavaria. No, I can't say I know anything about him and I'm not afraid to say that I don't really care much to. He is after all, a dog Mews. What is this all about?"
"As you may know someone in the building is leaving nasty notes on Horst's door," Mews said.
"Yes, I've heard of these notes. And I assure you I know nothing of their origin. Surely you don't think that I have anything to do with this Mews?"
"I'm by no means implying that you have anything to do with this. I'm just asking around the building. Do you happen to know of anyone that might have an issue with Horst?"
"Certainly. More or less every bird and cat. Even that dreadfully hyperactive Quigley would agree with me on that. Maybe you ought to look a little closer to home to find some answers Mr Mews. Perhaps you don't know this Quigley as well as you think. He seems to make enemies rather easily. Now, let me ring for dinner. I can smell the lobster bisque and it's driving me to madness!"