As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,28
and do it now.’
‘Before you go, maybe you can help me. I have to buy a toy for a friend’s child – a little girl, seven years old. What do you suggest?’
‘There’s a great shop run by May Dinwoody. All the toys are handmade. You’ll find it in Tapestry Lane. It was Simon’s idea, but it was Agatha who did a big publicity stunt on it.’
The days of May Dinwoody’s poverty had gone, but she had not acquired any dress sense. She was wearing a long cardigan over a pink T-shirt, a tweed skirt and Wellington boots decorated with pink daisies.
She mostly worked over the books in an office at the back of the shop, but when she saw the handsome figure of James entering the shop, she decided to serve him herself. He explained what he was looking for. ‘People usually buy dolls for little girls,’ said May in her soft Scottish burr, ‘but sometimes they are not dolly-type girls.’
James laughed. ‘She is a bit of a tomboy.’
‘Let me see. What about this?’
She picked up a beautifully handcrafted wooden black-and-white spaniel. ‘You pull it along by its leash,’ said May. ‘Listen!’ She placed the toy on the floor and pulled the leash. The dog’s eyes lit up, and it said in a rasping voice, ‘Walk me.’
‘And you see,’ said May eagerly, ‘it can become more demanding if you don’t move it.’
‘I said walk me now,’ growled the dog.
‘The little switch under the red collar turns it on and off,’ explained May.
The price seemed terribly steep to James, but on the other hand, he knew the little girl would be delighted. As May wrapped it up, James said, ‘I believe you know my friend Agatha Raisin?’
‘Yes indeed. I owe everything to Agatha and that young man Simon Black. It was Simon who suggested that she publicize my toys. I felt a bittie guilty because I thought she demanded a harsh price.’
‘For publicizing you? That doesn’t sound like Agatha.’
‘Oh, no, she refused to charge a penny. It was at my flat in Oddley Croesus that I heard her talking to Simon when I went to the kitchen to make tea. She said, “I just want to remind you that I am doing this so that you will leave Toni alone for three years. She is too young to get seriously involved with anyone.” You can imagine my relief when I got an invitation to Simon’s wedding and he is marrying an army girl. So it looks as if he might have been the fickle type all along.’
James nodded, but he felt depressed. Agatha had behaved disgracefully. Her famous intuition had not been involved. She had merely wanted to keep a good detective.
When he met Agatha for lunch, her face was glowing. ‘Toni’s decided to stay,’ she said. ‘Isn’t that marvellous?’
‘I’ve just been buying a toy for a friend’s little daughter at May Dinwoody’s,’ said James. Agatha quickly raised the menu to cover her face, but he leaned across the table and pulled it away. Agatha gave him a hunted look from out of her bearlike eyes.
‘So it seems,’ said James acidly, ‘that you exacted a pretty steep price out of Simon for helping the Dinwoody woman.’
‘I thought it was the best thing to do,’ howled Agatha with all the ferocity of the really guilty.
‘You were cruel and selfish. What are you having to eat?’
‘What do you want me to eat? Humble pie? Look. I’m sorry, sorry, sorry. Do you want me to go away?’
‘Oddly enough, no. Did you hear about my rescue of Toni?’
‘Yes, she told me. I wish it could have been me. Make amends in a way, you know.’
‘Just as well it wasn’t. Now, let’s order something and decide what we’re going to do about your murders.’
They were sitting at a table on a terrace at the back of the hotel overlooking the garden. Spring had come at last as March went out like a lamb. The hotel garden was heavy with the scent of blossom. A pale disc of a sun rose through tiny ragged little dark clouds above their heads. It was a place and a night for lovers, thought Agatha gloomily: not for one shamed female detective facing her ex across the table.
‘I gather,’ said Agatha, ‘that whoever killed Gary Beech ransacked his house. They were desperately looking for something. I think Amy was killed because she knew too much, or they suspected she might have known something.’
‘Did she look as if she had been tortured?’