As the Pig Turns - By M.C. Beaton Page 0,61

worked for the Agatha Raisin Detective Agency. He showed me his card.’

‘And you are . . . ?’

‘Wilfred Butterfield. Car salesman at Class Cars.’

‘You’d better come with us and make a statement.’

In the interview room so recently vacated by Toni, Wilfred poured out his story, omitting any mention of the money Simon had given him.

When he had finished, Wilkes said, ‘Now let’s get this straight. The man you described to Simon was thickset and had a Scottish accent.’

‘Yes.’

There’s only one here answers to that description, thought Wilkes, and that’s Sergeant Tulloch. ‘Oh, now what is it?’

He left the room and came back, his face grimmer than ever. ‘Detective Sergeant Wong will get you to sign a statement. Thank you for coming forward. Please keep this information from the press.’

Followed by Wilfred’s fervent assurances, he left the room.

He was met by the desk policeman who had been on duty the night before. He listened to the tale of how Simon had asked for Bill Wong. Had been told he was out and had then said he would wait. Simon had studied the police photographs and then had pointed to one and asked if that was Henry James. The policeman had said it was Sergeant Tulloch and Simon had decided not to wait.

A search started for Tulloch. They were told it was his day off. Armed with a warrant, Bill, Wilkes, Alice and a squad of policemen descended on Tulloch’s flat. There was no answer. Wilkes nodded and stood aside while the door was rammed open.

The small flat was empty. Wilkes put a call out for all airports and train stations to be watched along with the licence plate of Tulloch’s bike. He then waited out in the car while a team from Scenes of Crimes Operatives arrived to search the flat.

Toni went straight to the hospital as soon as she left police headquarters. She found Agatha in the waiting room. A little way away from her sat Simon’s parents.

‘I’m sorry, Agatha,’ she whispered.

Agatha shrugged. ‘I’ve already endured a session with the police at dawn. So Simon was prepared to spy on us for Mixden’s? Well. Whatever he found out nearly killed him. What a waste of a bright young man. Don’t blame yourself, Toni. That one could have fooled me as well. Oh, here comes the surgeon.’

They watched anxiously and then saw smiles of relief on Simon’s parents’ faces. Wilkes and another detective they did not recognize arrived.

‘You pair,’ said Wilkes. ‘There’s no use waiting. Police and family only.’

‘I know. Let’s phone Patrick,’ said Agatha. ‘I bet he’s learned something.’

They went to a café across the road where there were tables outside. Agatha ordered coffees for both of them, lit a cigarette and phoned Patrick.

Toni waited impatiently until Agatha had rung off. ‘The culprit appears to be a Sergeant Billy Tulloch. Either he was working with Beech or he took over when Beech left off. But he was working for someone or some gang. I hate being outside it all. There’s nothing we can do but wait. For some reason, Simon visited a car salesroom in Birmingham and found out that someone of Tulloch’s description had been asking about posh cars. Patrick says Staikov’s place has been thoroughly checked and all his trucks as well. There’s nothing more we can do today, and I need some sleep. I think you should stay with me tonight, Toni. My place is well guarded.’

Toni hesitated only a moment. She thought of poor Simon, left to die in that horrible way. ‘Yes, thanks. I’ll go home and pack a bag.’

Toni was relieved to find Charles waiting outside Agatha’s cottage in his car. She found undiluted Agatha rather overwhelming.

Over coffees, Charles listened to all the latest news. ‘I wonder what took Simon to that car showroom,’ said Charles. ‘Do you think Mixden knows more than he ought?’

‘I think it was a leap of intuition,’ said Toni. ‘He probably tried to figure out what a copper with a lot of money that he couldn’t splash about would think of doing with it.’

‘Patrick says that Tulloch wasn’t due any holiday, just a few days off. That’s probably why he went to Las Vegas.’

‘We’ve been concentrating on Staikov because his father is Bulgarian,’ said Agatha. ‘But what other firm has trucks going abroad?’

‘Richards!’ said Toni.

‘He’s stocking cheap leather jackets. He didn’t need to get them from Staikov. I’m sure his trucks go abroad for fruit and veg as well. There are always protests in the local papers about supermarkets