Maria nodded her head madly. 'Oh, yes, yes; we were engaged to be married.'
'But he was married already exclaimed Roy.
Maria waved a thin hand. 'He was divorcing her.'
Agatha shifted uneasily. Vera Cummings-Browne was not much of a looker, but she was streets ahead of Maria Borrow, with her greyish face, thin lips, and pale eyes.
'Had he told her?' asked Roy.
'I believe so.'
Agatha looked at her uneasily. Maria seemed so calm.
'Were you lovers?' asked Roy.
'Our union was to be consummated on Midsummer's Eve,' said Maria. Her pale eyes shifted to Agatha. 'I am a white witch but I know evil when I see it. You, Mrs. Raisin, were an instrument of the devil.'
Agatha rose to her feet. 'Well, we needn't keep you any longer,' she said. She felt claustrophobic. All she wanted to do was to escape into the sunlight, into the sights and sounds of ordinary village life.
'But you will be punished,' went on Maria, as if Agatha had not spoken.
'Evil deeds are always punished. I will see to that.'
Roy forced a light note. 'So if anything happens to Aggie here, we'll know where to look.'
'You will not know where to look,' said Maria Borrow, ' it will be done by the supernatural powers I conjure up.'
Agatha turned on her heel and walked out. There was a game of cricket taking place on the village green, leisurely, placid, with little knots of spectators standing about.
'I'm scared,' she said when Roy joined her. The woman's barking mad.'
'Let's walk away from the cottage a bit,' said Roy. 'I'm beginning to think that Reg Cummings-Browne would have screwed the cat.'
'He probably took what he could,' said Agatha. 'He was hardly an Adonis. We shouldn't have come, Roy. Something always happens to me after I've been asking questions. Let's just enjoy the rest of the day.'
They went to get their bikes, which were chained to a fence beside the pub. As they were mounting, John Cart-wright came around the side of the pub. Lunch-time was over. He had discarded his apron. He stopped short at the sight of them and glowered. They pedalled off as fast as they could.
On the road home, Roy struck a rock and catapulted over the handlebars, fortunately landing on the soft grass at the side of the road. He was winded but unhurt. 'You see what can happen?' he said. 'You really ought to wear a cycling helmet, Aggie.'
The rest of the day passed pleasantly, until Agatha ran him into Oxford and waved goodbye to him at the station.
The next day, she remembered his remark about cycling helmets and bought one at a shop in Moreton-in- Marsh. Although she had a cottage cheese salad for lunch and a chicken salad for dinner, she still felt fat. Exercise was called for. She put on her new helmet and got out her bike and pedalled up out of the village, having to get off several times and push. The light was fading as clouds were beginning to build up in the evening sky. At the top of the road, Agatha turned her bike about, looking forward to the long free-wheeling ride down into Carsely. The air was warm and sweet. Tall hedges and trees flew past.
She felt she was flying, flying like a witch on her broomstick.
So exhilarated was she by the feeling of speed and freedom that she did not see the thin wire stretched chest-high across the road. Her bike went flying on as she crashed on her head on the road. She was dimly aware of rapid footsteps approaching her and her terrified mind registered that the wire had been no accident and that someone was probably coming now to kill her.
Chapter Nine.
Dazed, Agatha sensed rather than saw her assailant coming nearer and something made her summon up all her efforts and roll across the hard surface of the road just as a heavy weapon smashed down where she had been lying.
'Stop!' shouted a voice. Agatha's attacker ran off and she dizzily hoisted herself up on one elbow. She got a glimpse of a dark figure breaking through a gap in the hedge at the side of the road and then she was blinded with the light of a bicycle lamp.
Bill Wong's voice came loud and clear. 'Where did he go?' 'Over there,' said Agatha faintly, waving an arm in the direction in which her assailant had fled. Bill left his bike by the side of the road and then plunged off through the hedge.
Agatha slowly moved her arms and legs, then she sat up and groggily took off her helmet. Her first coherent thought was, Damn Roy, why didn't he let me leave things as they were? She slowly got up on her feet and then was violently sick. Shakily she inched along the road until she came to her bike. She picked it up and then stood trembling.
An owl sailed across in front of her and she yelped with fear. The heavy silence of the countryside pressed in on her. Suddenly she knew she could not wait for Bill Wong to return. Hoping her bike was undamaged, she mounted and free-wheeled slowly down into Carsely. No one was about the deserted village. She turned into Lilac Lane, noticing that there were no lights burning in Mrs. Barr's cottage.
She let herself into her own and then shut and locked the door. How flimsy that Yale lock now looked. She would get a security firm to put in burglar alarms and those lights which came on the minute anyone even approached the cottage. She went into her living-room and poured herself a stiff brandy and lit a cigarette. She tried to think but her mind seemed numb with fright. A knocking at the door made her start and spill some of her brandy. She didn't even have a spy hole 'Who is it?' she quavered.
'Me. Bill Wong.'
Agatha opened the door. Bill Wong stood there with Fred Griggs, the local policeman, behind him. 'There'll be reinforcements along soon,' said Bill. 'Fred, you'd best get back and block off that bit of the road where the attack took place. I'm slipping. I should have thought of that. Wilkes will have my guts for garters.'
Bill and Agatha went into the living-room. Thank God you happened along,' said Agatha. 'What were you doing on a bike?' 'I'm too fat,' said Bill. 'I saw you on yours and took a leaf out of your book. I was coming to pay you a visit. Now, I happen to know you were over in Upper Cockburn asking where Miss. Maria Borrow lives, and Miss. Borrow was the woman in that photograph you gave me. Not only that, you had lunch in the pub where John Cartwright acts as part-time cook.' 'You've been checking up on me,' said Agatha hotly.
'Not I. Word gets around.'
Agatha shivered. 'It was that Borrow woman, I'll swear. She's quite mad. She says Cummings-Browne promised to marry her.'
'I'm beginning to think Cummings-Browne was a bit touched himself,' said Bill drily. 'Anyway, Wilkes will soon be here and you will be asked all sorts of questions. But I think I can tell you now who had a go at you.'
'Barbara James? Maria Borrow?'
'No, I think it was John Cartwright, and do you know why?'
'Because he killed Cummings-Browne.'
'No, because you've been ferreting about. I swear he knows his wife had an affair with Cummings-Browne and he doesn't want it to get out.'
'Then the logical way to put a stop to it would have been to kill Cummings-Browne in the first place!'
'But he is not a logical man. He's a great ape. Now begin at the beginning and tell me what happened.' So Agatha told him about the wire stretched across the road, about how someone had brought something crashing down near her which would have struck her if she hadn't rolled away.
'But look,' ended Agatha, ' horrible Boggles, a couple of pensioners I took out for the day, they knew about the affair, so surely it was generally known in the village about the goings-on between Ella Cartwright and Cummings-Browne.'
'Look at it this way. Cartwright may have suspected something was going on but he could never prove it. She would deny it. Then Cummings-Browne dies, so that's over. But you turn up asking questions, and he gets scared. That sort of man couldn't bear the idea of his wife having an affair no, I mean the idea of anyone else knowing. Pride does not belong exclusively to the upper classes, you know. Here's the rest of them arrived. You'll need to answer questions all over again.'
Detective Chief Inspector Wilkes and Detective Sergeant Friend came in.
