Agatha Raisin & the Vicious Vet

have been spotted from outside'

Agatha sat down in a dark corner and waited, too frightened to watch what he was doing, although she was aware of a computer screen flickering into life and the soft sound of drawers being opened and shut.

It had been a long day and extreme fear had the effect of making Agatha feel sleepy. Her eyes closed.

She awoke with him shaking her shoulder and cried, 'We've been caught! The police!'

'Shhh! I've found his account' hissed James.

'Good. Can we get out of here?'

'Yes, I've taken notes. Quietly now.'

As Agatha finally followed him down the garden path, she felt sure there must be people living above the adjoining shops, people who were staring down at the two figures in the garden and reaching for their telephones, but when she shot one frightened look back, everything was as dark and silent as before.

Only when they were safely outside did she realize that fear was affecting her physically. 'I must find a Ladies' . . . quick,' she gasped.

'Are you feeling sick?'

'No, I've got to pee,' said Agatha. 'There's a tide of pee rising up to my eyeballs.'

'We'll go back to the pub,' he said. 'It isn't far.'

Agatha cursed her own crudity. But she almost ran back to the pub.

'Now what?' she asked, elated because her fright was over and she had used the services of the pub's toilet.

'Don't you want to know what I found out?'

'Oh, yes.'

'Listen to this. In the short time Paul Bladen was in Carsely, he had deposits in his account: one of twenty thousand pounds, one of fifteen thousand, then nine thousand, one of four thousand, five deposits of five thousand, and one for five hundred. That's apart from his pay.'

'Who paid him?'

'There's the rub. Didn't say. I've been thinking. I would like to get inside that house of his. We could do it tonight.'

'Last orders, please, ladies and gennelmen. If you please,' called the barman.

'As late as that!' exclaimed Agatha. 'Well, we could start out tomorrow early and -'

'No, tonight' He looked at Agatha's cherry-red coat. 'We need some dark clothes.'

What monster is this I have unleashed? thought Agatha, looking at his animated face. She could tell him to go on his own. And yet, there would be all the excitement of the adventure, which might lead to ... They fumbled around in the dark of Paul Bladen's house.

'What's that?' he cried, clutching hold of Agatha. 'Nothing' he murmured, still holding her. 'Your perfume smells divine. Oh, Agatha!' And he bent his lips to hers.

'Agatha! Stop day-dreaming and let's get on' said James sharply and Agatha blinked the rosy vision away, obscurely irritated that he had snapped her out of it before he had kissed her.

Back at her cottage, Agatha changed into a pair of black slacks and a black sweater. She wondered whether he meant her to blacken her face. Better wait and see.

He rang her bell at one in the morning. He too was wearing a black sweater and black trousers. 'We'll be causing no end of a scandal,' he said cheerfully. 'I only hope no one sees me calling on you at this hour of the night,' and Agatha thought of Freda and fervently hoped that someone had.

James, who had been drinking mineral water during their last visit to the pub, elected to drive again. Agatha snuggled down in the passenger seat and dreamt they were racing off on their honeymoon.

'Just to be on the safe side,' said James, 'we'll park a street away and walk.'

Paul Bladen's house stood quiet and shuttered in a road of Victorian villas. Agatha remembered her last visit and was glad now she had run away.

James looked up and down the quiet street, which was lined with cherry trees in full bloom. A breeze blew down the street and blossom cascaded about them. Isn't it sad' mourned James, 'that such beauty should be so fleeting?'

Too true' said Agatha edgily. 'But if you stand here for much longer admiring the blossom, then someone's going to see us.'

He gave a little sigh and Agatha wondered whether he were wishing he was with someone who could share his love of beauty.

'I think as there is no one around, we should go straight up to the front door' he whispered. 'There's a dark porch and once we're there, we'll be pretty much shielded.'

'Why bother about dark clothes if we're not going to sneak around the back?' asked Agatha.

'Because it might take me a bit of time to get the door open, and so long as we are dressed in black, there's less chance of us being noticed from the street by any passer-by'

When they were in the shelter of the porch, he flicked the beam of his pencil torch at the door and then switched it off. 'Yale lock' he said with satisfaction. 'Lovely stained-glass panel on the door. I wonder if Peter Rice knows you can get money these days for Victorian stained glass'

'Get on with it' said Agatha, looking nervously over her shoulder.

And then they heard the sound of slow footsteps coming along the street and stiffened.

'Stand very still in the corner and turn your face away from the street and don't move' hissed James.

They froze.

The footsteps came nearer, stopping every once in a while. 'Come on, Spot' said a man's voice irritably. Someone walking the dog.

Agatha could feel sweat trickling down her face.

And then, to her horror, she heard the light patter of paws behind her and then a dog sniffing at her ankles and the sound of the owner walking up the garden path.

'Come out of there' cried the owner sharply. Please God, prayed Agatha, get me out of this one and I'll never be bad again.

The dog pattered off. 'I'm putting you on the leash now' said the owner's voice. This was followed by a metallic click and then those footsteps slowly retreated out of the garden and off down the street.

'Whew!' said Agatha. 'That was close. We should have pretended to be a courting couple' she added hopefully. 'Then, if he'd seen us, he would have sheered off.'

'On the contrary' said James, 'nothing infuriates the suburbanite more than the sight of a couple snogging on someone else's property.' He took out a bunch of thin metal implements.

'Where did you get those?' asked Agatha. 'You're not a retired burglar, are you?'

'Chap in the regiment. Now, keep quiet while I get to work'

Agatha stood and fidgeted. She hoped the much-advertised deodorant she had put on was working. He tried one implement after the other until there was a soft click.

A moment later, Agatha stood in the hall where she had panicked before Paul Bladen. 'Now' said James in a normal voice, 'there's a good bit of light coming from the street lamps outside and the curtains aren't closed. So we search around for some sort of study or a desk'

Agatha opened a door in the hall. Til try this side,' she said. 'You try the other'

She could dimly see that the windows of the room she found herself in looked out over the back garden to a railway track. She moved cautiously around in the darkness, feeling with her fingers for a desk. It seemed to be the sitting-room - sofa, coffee-table, easy chairs. Suddenly, with a roar, a late-night passenger train heading for Oxford rumbled along the track at the end of the garden and then crawled to a stop. Agatha crouched down on the floor. The lights from the carriages shone straight into the room. There were a few people sitting reading books or just staring out into space. Then, with a wheeze, the train crawled on, slowly gathered speed, and roared off into the night.

Agatha got up and made her way with trembling legs to the door, fell over something and crashed down, swearing loudly.

James came in and said impatiently, 'Try to keep it quiet, Agatha. I've found the study. Follow me. Other side of the hall'