As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,57

‘Do you want to follow me to Carsely?’

‘No, I’ll go to my flat. I’m tired.’

Chapter Eleven

Simon found that the army were only too glad to get rid of him. Sergeant Sue Crispin was popular, and they felt that Simon had behaved disgracefully. He had made several attempts to see Toni again, but she always said she was too busy.

He even asked Agatha for his old job back, but Agatha said roundly she could not afford to take on any more staff.

Simon had always disliked authority figures, something that had landed him in trouble many times in his short army career. To him, Agatha Raisin was the epitome of an authority figure. He decided to apply to Mixden, Agatha’s rival agency, for a job.

Mr Mixden laid down the same terms he had laid down to Toni.

Simon hesitated only a minute. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But I will expect a bonus if I get something really good.’

‘Then let’s see how good you are,’ said Mixden. ‘You’re on a month’s trial. Remember, no one’s paying us to solve these murders. But I want the publicity.’

Simon decided the best way to go about finding out what was happening over at Agatha’s agency would be to pretend to be unemployed and get as friendly with Toni as possible.

At that moment, Toni and Agatha were studying the photographs taken from Toni’s little camera, along with the still photos given to them by the Las Vegas police. They put them up on the computer screen in the office.

Patrick and Phil peered over their shoulders. ‘He’s clever,’ said Patrick. ‘Look at the way he ducks his head. He knows exactly where the cameras are.’

Agatha leaned back in her chair. ‘I wonder,’ she said slowly, ‘if it was all just some sort of coincidence. Say it’s someone from around here, addicted to gambling. He spots what looks like Toni and thinks he’s been found out. I mean, just look at Chelsea. She really did go out of her way to look like you, Toni. Say this chap sees Toni enter the casino. Then she’s lost from view. Then he thinks he sees Toni playing the machines.’

‘If that’s maybe the case,’ said Patrick, ‘it could be someone who likes money the way Beech did. And if he’s got the gambling habit, he might be prepared to do anything for it.’

Toni’s mobile rang. It was Simon. ‘You seem to have been having a lot of adventures,’ he said. ‘What about meeting up this evening?’

‘I’m a bit busy.’

‘Look, Toni, I’d really appreciate it. Everyone’s treating me like a leper.’

‘Just a drink, then,’ said Toni. ‘Eight o’clock in the Dragon.’

Charles Fraith had called at Agatha’s cottage, thinking she would be resting up after her ordeal in Las Vegas. James Lacey had gone off on his travels again but had left Charles a copy of the notes from Gary Beech’s ledger. Charles decided to walk along to the Red Lion, have a drink and see if he could make any sense of them.

He ordered a half of lager and sat at a table by the window. He gazed at the notes, but they didn’t mean anything to him.

‘Thousands of pounds, all gone. I’m going to have trouble with the insurance,’ said a voice.

Charles looked over. He recognized a farmer called Ettrick who had recently bought a farm outside the village. The man he was speaking to said, ‘You mean they pinched a whole combine harvester?’

‘The whole damn thing,’ complained Ettrick. ‘I phoned the insurance, but they’re humming and hawing and said I shouldn’t have left it out in the field with all the thefts of farm machinery that have been going on.’

Charles glanced down at the notes. Could c.h. mean combine harvester? Could Beech have been alerting some gang as to where to go and what to steal?

‘What would anyone want stealing a combine harvester?’ asked Ettrick’s companion.

‘They do say they come in the night, dismantle the thing, load it up and it ends up somewhere in Eastern Europe. The Carters over at Broadway had their ’un pinched last year. That Beech, him who was murdered, he says it was their own fault. Ought to have locked it up for the night.’

Charles finished his drink, went outside and phoned Agatha. When he had finished, her voice was sharp with excitement. ‘Beech must have been spying for some gang, telling them about houses that were easy to break into, telling them about where to pick up expensive farm machinery.

‘Which means,’ Agatha concluded slowly, ‘that there