we found out she had been having an affair with Bladen, so how could he blackmail her?'
At the estate agent's, instead of giving them the keys, a young girl called Wendy said she would accompany them. She was a cheerful Sloane Ranger type and talked non-stop to Agatha and James as they walked around the rooms of the house wondering how to get rid of her so that they could pretend to find the file. At last James said, 'We would like to be alone to have a private discussion' and to Agatha's relief, Wendy said, 'Right ho, drop the keys back at the office when you're finished,' and shot off.
They decided to have a thorough search of the house in the hope of finding letters or documents, but there was nothing. Out in the back garden there was an old oil drum with holes banged in its sides which had obviously been used for burning garden rubbish. James poked moodily at the contents with a stick. 'This is where Rice burnt the papers' he said, 'but we're out of luck. He did a thorough job. Not even an edge of paper left uncharred and legible. Oh, well, let's go and see Bill Wong.'
At police headquarters, Bill Wong studied the bank papers and deposit book and then looked up at them, his eyes shrewd. 'A man phoned in a report in the middle of the night that two people dressed in black were in Paul Bladen's house and told him they had bought it. That wouldn't have been you pair, now would it?'
'Us?' exclaimed James. 'Had it been us and had we found this file, then we would have brought it straight along.'
'I wonder. You must stop interfering. Yes, I know. I'm grateful for this and these women will all be interviewed - by the police. If I find you have been continuing with your amateur investigations, then I will really have to inquire more closely into the identities of that couple who were seen at Bladen's last night. Do I make myself clear?'
'Yes, very' said Agatha huffily.
'So that's all the thanks we get' she complained as James drove them back to Carsely.
Tm relieved in a way' said James. 'Oh, well, back to that writing'
There was a long silence. Then Agatha said, T have to pay my subscription to the Carsely Ladies' Society and that means calling on Miss Simms. Like to come along? I mean, Bill can't stop us asking a few questions in a neighbourly way. Dammit, he can't stop us talking to the villagers at all!'
'And how's he to know?' said James. 'I mean, everyone calls on everyone else in Carsely.'
'Miss Simms will be at work until this evening' said Agatha. 'Let's try Mrs Mason first.'
Chapter Eight
It was one of those typically English days. Steady rain drummed down and fallen cherry blossom bobbed along in the rivulets running between the old cobbles in Lilac Lane. They had fortified themselves with coffee and sandwiches, and with a lack of enthusiasm that the one would not admit to the other, Agatha and James set out to speak to Mrs Mason again.
Mrs Mason was so welcoming, so obviously thought they had come on a social call, that it was hard to get down to brass tacks. 'And you must have some more of my famous scones, Mr Lacey' said Mrs Mason. 'And that's
James looked at her in blank horror and nearly forgot why they had come. 'Mrs Mason,' began Agatha, 'we really don't want to distress you further, but we would like to know why you gave Mr Bladen such a large sum of money'
Mrs Mason blinked rapidly. 'That is really none of your business' Agatha glanced around the living-room. Four thousand pounds was an awful lot of money for such as Mrs Mason to part with.
'We came to warn you that the police are about to make it their business' said James.
'Then I shall speak to the police when they arrive. But how did you find out?'
'Agatha and I were looking around Paul Bladen's house, which is up for sale, and we happened to come across his old bank statements and deposit book. We did give them to the police'
Mrs Mason studied James, her eyes suddenly sharp. 'So you and Mrs Raisin were looking at a house together. Well, well, romance does seem to be in the air. Quite cheering, really. It shows one is never too old'
And that, as she had planned, had the desired effect of driving James to his feet and towards the door.
Agatha gloomily followed him out. James climbed into the car without holding the door open for her and stared moodily at the rain trickling down the windscreen. Agatha got into the passenger seat.
'Damn all gossiping women' said James, striking the steering wheel. 'You, me, it's bloody ridiculous'
'Yes, a laugh a minute' said Agatha drily, although her heart was sore. 'She only said that to get rid of you, and get rid of you it did'
His face lightened. 'Oh, that was the reason. How naive of me'
'You are really over-sensitive on the subject' said Agatha. 'It's my belief that you think every woman you come across is pursuing you'
He gave an awkward laugh. 'Let's try the Webster female'
Josephine Webster was arguing with a couple of rainwashed American tourists who were trying to haggle over the price of a dried-flower arrangement. 'The price is marked on it' said Miss Webster, exasperated. 'This is not a bazaar'
'You can haggle over the price of things in antique shops' said James to the Americans in a kindly voice, l>ut most other places you're expected to pay the price marked'
'Is that a fact?'
The American man and woman fell into amiable conversation with James about their visit, Miss Webster returned to her desk, and Agatha stared out of the window at the main street. She had no desire to tackle Miss Webster while these tourists were in the shop.
'I've no time for Americans' said Miss Webster waspishly when the couple had left. 'Always complaining'
'It's not their fault' said James. 'They feel they have to protect themselves. A lot of people think American tourists are made of money. Now that couple saved all their lives for this one trip. They have to budget very carefully, and they've probably been told back home that all foreigners are out to cheat them'
'But we're not foreigners' said Miss Webster. 'We're British'
James smiled. 'Talking about money, we wondered why you had paid such a large sum of money to Paul Bladen'
Miss Webster's face went white and then red. 'Get out of here,' she called shrilly. 'Get out!' She picked up a bunch of assorted dried flowers and waved it at them like a housewife shooing cats out with her broom.
'We're not getting anywhere' said James gloomily after he and Agatha had retreated out of the shop. 'Do you want to see Mrs Parr again?'
'So long as that husband of hers is not around' said Agatha.
But Mrs Parr did not open the door to them. The curtain twitched and they saw the quick blur of a face behind the glass, but the front door stayed resolutely shut.
'We're running out of people' said James. 'Perhaps I should try Freda. If I went on my own -'
'No' said Agatha quickly. 'Why don't we try Miss Mabbs again? Say we know these women were paying him. Ask her some more questions'
'Oh, all right. But I don't want to have to wait until that disco opens up'
'We can find her where she works. She said it was a kennels 'out Warwick way'. I'll look up the Yellow Pages before we go'
At last, armed with the name of a kennels situated between Leamington Spa and Warwick, they set off.
The rain was slowly easing off, to be replaced with pale-yellow sunlight.
They found the kennels easily enough. Dogs were barking, dogs were howling piteously, and the wet air smelled of damp dog.
They went into the office, which was housed in a timber hut, and asked for Cheryl Mabbs.
The man behind the desk looked up sharply. 'Friends of hers?'
'Yes' said James.
He stood up. He was a small, thickset man with grey hair and rimless spectacles. 'Then you know exactly where to find her' he said. 'Get out.'
'If we knew where to find her' said James, 'we wouldn't be here asking for her. Does she work here, or
