As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,18
‘This is what’s up, you interfering old bag.’
Agatha read the invitation. Lance Corporal Simon Black was to wed Sergeant Susan Crispin in Mircester Abbey on June the tenth.
‘So?’ demanded Agatha. ‘What the hell has this to do with me?’
‘This letter that came with the invitation.’ Toni handed her an airmail.
Agatha read: ‘Dear Toni, I would like you to come to my wedding because I have fond memories of the work we did together. I would have married you then, but Agatha told me you were too young and to go away and think about it for three years. I couldn’t bear to go on snubbing you and seeing you hurt. So I joined the army. Luckily I met Susie, who’s the girl for me, so maybe Agatha was right all along not to trust me. Love, Simon.’
‘Thanks to your interference, he could be blown up out there,’ said Toni. ‘I am eighteen years old, not a child. Do not interfere in my life again. Oh, and take a month’s notice.’
Agatha sank down into a chair as Toni stormed out.
‘Anyone home?’ came Charles’s voice.
‘Oh, do walk in and stamp all over my feelings,’ howled Agatha, and burst into tears.
Charles waited until Agatha had finished crying and said gently, ‘I saw Toni driving off like a bat out of hell. Has she found out about Simon?’
Agatha sniffed miserably. ‘She forgot these.’ She pushed the wedding invitation and the letter in front of him.
Charles read both carefully. ‘I see.’
‘And she’s given a month’s notice.’
‘You shouldn’t have interfered.’
‘I know, I know. It wasn’t all selfish. It wasn’t all because I didn’t want to lose a good detective. But there was something unstable about Simon. I sensed it.’
‘You should have let her find out for herself.’
‘What about Paul Finlay? If I hadn’t found out from Bill he was a wife beater and if Bill hadn’t gone round to her flat, she would not have been rescued from a beating.’
‘Didn’t she try to defend herself?’
‘Well, yes,’ admitted Agatha. ‘She grabbed him by the balls.’
‘Toni can fight her own battles. She’s been taking classes in judo. I think maybe Bill arrived in the nick of time to rescue Paul.’
‘What about the time that creep took her to Paris and she begged me for help? Who got her out of that mess? Me! That’s who. She’s just going to lurch from one hopeless man to another.’
‘Like you, Aggie.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘Your first husband was a drunk, your second husband is a coldhearted confirmed bachelor type, and you nearly married a control freak and I had to come and rescue you.’
‘That’s different.’
‘It’s not. Oh, let’s not quarrel. How are you going to get Toni to stay?’
‘Try giving her the top jobs and nothing else. Keep out of her way.’
The next day in the office, Agatha greeted her staff breezily as if nothing had happened. ‘Toni,’ she said, ‘I want you to give whatever jobs you have to Patrick and Phil. I’ve got a big one for you. Let me outline the case to date.’
They all listened intently. When Agatha had finished, she said, ‘Toni, I want you to go and see the first Mrs Richards. Try to find out if Richards wanted her to have a face-lift. I’m working on the theory that he might be a nasty, manipulative man.’
‘Give me the address,’ said Toni.
Agatha handed it to her. ‘I’m going to type out what I’ve just told all of you so it can be checked on the computer at any time. Patrick, if you have any spare time today, I want you to get on to your old police contacts and find out if they have any suggestions how Beech could have been making money on the side.’
Toni gathered up her belongings and left the office. Agatha looked wistful as she watched her go.
Toni felt emotionally numb as she drove in the direction of the Richardses’ villa. She pushed out of her mind all the times Agatha had come to her rescue, beginning with saving her from her alcoholic brother and finding her a flat and a job.
The Richardses’ home was an imposing villa screened from the road by a thick thorn hedge and a stone wall. She opened the gate and walked up a short gravel drive to the front door.
A woman answered the door, a fairly elderly woman wearing an old-fashioned floral apron. ‘Mrs Richards?’
‘No, I’m just the cleaner. Her’s out.’
‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’
‘Around the time the children get out o’