As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,33

for her.

‘I rescued your cats from the garden,’ he said, ‘and took them to my place. I suggest you move in with me until things are safer. It’s all right, Officer, I’ll take her home.’

‘Take me for a drink first,’ said Agatha.

‘It’s just a few minutes before eleven in the morning. Too early.’

‘James, I’m sure the sun is over the poop deck or whatever. I need a drink.’

‘Agatha, that is a warning sign. When people start saying they need a drink, they’re on the slippery slope to alcoholism.’

A fit of rage brought the strength back to Agatha’s legs. ‘Goodbye,’ she said abruptly, and left police headquarters, banging the door noisily behind her.

She headed straight for the Dragon pub across the other side of the car park, deaf to the sound of James shouting something from behind her.

There was a light breeze. The pub had tables outside with large glass ashtrays on each one. ‘Civilization at last,’ breathed Agatha.

She sat down, opened her handbag, took out her lighter and a packet of Bensons and lit a cigarette. A shadow fell across her.

‘Gin and tonic?’ asked James.

‘Make it a double,’ said Agatha, squinting up at him out of her bearlike eyes.

When James went into the pub, Agatha pulled out her mobile and dialled Toni. ‘See if you can renew your friendship with Mrs Richards,’ said Agatha after she had finished describing the horrors of the morning. ‘She might know something. I mean, this Richards character strikes me as fishy.’

‘Patrick did a check on him,’ said Toni cautiously. ‘He is what he appears to be – a successful businessman.’

‘Nonetheless, do it,’ said Agatha, ‘and I want Phil following behind you to keep a watch on you, just in case.’

James came back as she rang off, carrying her drink and a coffee for himself. Agatha suddenly found herself missing Charles. She did not want to move in with James. She would not be allowed to smoke. And his fussy bachelor ways would get on her nerves. Her cottage was protected by first-class security.

‘I think I’d be better off in my own home,’ said Agatha after a gulp of her drink. ‘It is secure. Come on, James, you know we’d get on each other’s nerves.’

He gave a reluctant smile. In that moment, Agatha wavered. Oh, those blue eyes of his and that smile which lit up his whole face. That hard, muscular body . . .

She gave herself a mental slap.

For his part, James felt that old pull of attraction towards Agatha. Her hair was shining in the sunlight, and the colour had returned to her face.

‘Can’t you just for once leave this one to the police?’ he asked.

‘No, I can’t,’ said Agatha. ‘I must get to the bottom of things. What knowledge did a common copper like Beech have that was worth a lot of money? That’s what I would like to know. His macabre death was revenge, I think, but also a warning to anyone else.’

‘Leave it for now, anyway,’ said James. ‘Let me take you home.’

Agatha wavered but realized she was still weak from shock. ‘All right,’ she said, finishing her drink. ‘But I don’t think I’ll go home yet. It will still be full of police. I’ll book a room at the George Hotel after I buy myself some cheap clothes.’

Sir Charles Fraith heard the news of the dead head delivered to Agatha on the car radio later the next morning. When he arrived at his Warwickshire mansion, he went straight to the kitchen where he kept the keys to Agatha’s cottage. They were usually hanging on a board along with various other keys to the garage, the cellar and so on. But Agatha’s keys were missing. He called to his manservant, Gustav, ‘Have you taken Mrs Raisin’s keys?’

‘Wouldn’t touch them,’ said Gustav, who disapproved of Agatha.

‘Ask around. The village women were in to clean, weren’t they? And ask my aunt.’

He waited impatiently until Gustav returned. ‘Nothing,’ he said with gloomy relish.

‘Check all the locks. Make sure no one could have broken in.’

‘You probably left them somewhere.’

‘Oh, just do what you’re told for once in your miserable life.’

Gustav eventually found there were faint scratches around the lock on the kitchen door.

‘I’d better get to Agatha quickly,’ said Charles. ‘She isn’t answering her phone.’

A call to Bill Wong elicited the fact that Agatha was staying at the George. Charles got into his car and set off for Mircester.

Toni decided that it would be a mistake to visit Mrs Richards in her home.