As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,50

a sudden feeling of dread. She whispered to Patrick, ‘What if he’s been kidnapped like Roy?’

‘Probably sleeping off the effects of some stag party,’ replied Patrick comfortably.

Agatha craned her neck. She could see what must be Simon’s father talking urgently to some of Simon’s army colleagues. They left the abbey.

A babble of conversation rose up to the hammer beams on the roof. One woman left the church for a few minutes and then came back and announced excitedly, ‘Poor Susan is in the wedding car, being driven around and around. Where is the wretched boy?’

Agatha was just about to go outside and phone Bill when Simon’s army colleagues came back into the church and went straight up to his father. There was a frantic discussion, and then Simon’s father announced, ‘I am sorry. The wedding is off.’

People rose from their pews and began to stream out through the great double doors of the abbey. But Agatha, followed by Charles, thrust her way through the departing guests and approached Simon’s father.

‘Has Simon been found?’ she gasped.

‘Yes, he has,’ he answered curtly. ‘He has been found at our home. I have much to do. Please excuse me.’

Thank God he’s at least safe, thought Agatha. She made her way back to Toni. ‘Have you still got Simon’s mobile phone number?’

‘Yes,’ said Toni.

‘Please phone him and find out what the matter is.’

‘He probably won’t answer,’ said Toni. ‘Oh, don’t glare at me. I’ll try.’

Toni went out and stood in the shade of a tall tombstone and called. Simon answered. ‘It’s Toni. Where are you?’

‘I’ve locked myself in my room. I couldn’t go through with it.’

‘Why?’

‘My father doesn’t believe in stag parties, and we had a small party last night for the family and relatives. I was teasing Sue about names for the baby and telling her she shouldn’t drink so much. She said she’d had an abortion because otherwise she wouldn’t have fitted into her wedding dress. Look, the reason I proposed was because she said she was pregnant.’

‘So why didn’t you just put a stop to everything there and then?’

‘I hadn’t the courage. So many arrangements.’

Toni could hear someone banging and shouting, ‘Come out of there immediately!’

‘Got to go,’ he said, and rang off.

Toni returned to her colleagues and told them what Simon had said. ‘Of all the wimps!’ exclaimed Agatha.

‘You got him into this,’ said Toni. ‘If it hadn’t been for your interference, he’d never have joined the army.’

‘That’s unfair,’ said Charles quietly. ‘Next thing you’ll be telling us that Agatha got Sue pregnant.’

‘Sorry,’ Toni mumbled.

‘Well, I’m going back home to get out of this hot clobber. Oh, look. Here comes James.’

James, as impeccably dressed as Charles, came hurrying up. ‘Have I missed the wedding?’

They rapidly explained to him what had happened. ‘It was a bit of a dirty trick to tell him at the very last moment,’ said James roundly. ‘I would say he’s well out of it. I’m hungry. Anyone want lunch?’

Aware of Agatha’s beady eyes on them, willing them to go away, they all muttered apologies. ‘I’m free,’ said Agatha cheerfully. ‘Let’s go.’

Over an Italian meal, Agatha told James what had been happening. ‘I feel it’s all to do with that factory of Staikov’s. I wish we could get in there. Patrick says it’s well guarded. Now, that’s suspicious.’

‘Not necessarily,’ remarked James. ‘Lots of expensive leather to guard.’

‘I’d love to get in there and have a look.’

‘Agatha! I’m through with breaking and entering. What we could do . . .’

‘Yes?’ How Agatha loved the sound of that ‘we’.

‘If there’s any nefarious business going on, it would probably take place at night. We could go up there after midnight and have a look.’

‘Oh, James, thank you. When you just cleared off, I thought you’d lost interest.’

‘I have to make a living.’

‘But you have independent means.’

‘True, but I feel pretty useless when I’m not working, and I enjoy the travel. I’m about to do something new. Next month, I’m doing a documentary for the BBC on British expats who sold up here and moved to Spain to start a new life.’

‘You’re going to be a television presenter! I could handle the publicity for you.’

‘No, Agatha. I prefer a quiet life.’

Agatha studied him, her mind a whirl of thoughts. He would have researchers, camera crew, make-up girl, all the usual circus. Some of the girls might be very pretty. She pulled herself together and told herself not to be silly.

‘I’m thinking of closing down the agency for two weeks and giving everyone