PC Griggs was standing on duty on the doorstep. 'You can step inside, Mr Lacey,' he said. 'She'll need some help.'
'What happened?'
'Someone stole her cats'
James was so relieved that Agatha was not hurt that he nearly said, 'Is that all?' but bit the remark back in time.
Agatha's sitting-room seemed full of policemen, plainclothes and uniformed.
Bill Wong looked up as James came in. He had an arm around Agatha's shoulders, an Agatha who was sobbing quietly. Agatha had never thought of herself as a cat lover. In fact, she sometimes regretted the responsibility of looking after the pair. But now all she could think of was that they had either been slaughtered or were locked up somewhere, being mistreated and frightened.
'You'd best sit down and tell us everything you did today' said Bill. 'Agatha's in no state to give us a coherent account. Begin at the beginning and go on to the end and don't leave anything out'
The only thing that James left out was that they had both pretended to be social workers. In a flat voice, he described the interviews they had conducted, the trip to Leamington, the finding out about Cheryl Mabbs's theft of the drugs including Adrenalin, and the attacks in the pub.
He then fell silent, waiting for a lecture, but Bill said, 'We'll have this all typed up and get you to sign it tomorrow. We'll need to interview everyone in Lilac Lane and see if they saw anyone or heard a car while you were both in the pub'
He turned to Agatha and gently questioned her again, taking notes of his own while she confirmed James's story.
James ambled off to the kitchen and made some coffee. Men were dusting Agatha's front door for fingerprints, examining the road outside for tyre tracks, picking over the front garden. He sat down at the kitchen table, listening to the murmur of voices in the other room and reflecting that he had initially retired to the country for peace and quiet.
At last he rose and went back to his own house and dug out a sleeping-bag, put his pyjamas, toothbrush, and shaving-kit in a bag and returned to Agatha's cottage.
Bill and the others were just leaving. Til sleep downstairs here tonight' said James, and Bill nodded.
Mrs Bloxby, the vicar's wife, was sitting with Agatha when he went into the sitting-room. 'That nice Mr Wong phoned me' said Mrs Bloxby. 'What a terrible business. Agatha should not be left alone'
'She won't be' said James. Tm sleeping down here. Don't cry, Agatha. Cats are great survivors'
'If they're still alive' sobbed Agatha.
'I'm glad you are staying, Mr Lacey' said Mrs Bloxby. 'But phone me if you need any help.'
James saw her out and then returned to Agatha. 'Off to bed with you' he said gently, 'and I'll bring you something to make you sleep'
Agatha scrubbed her eyes and trailed up the stairs. Part of her mind told her that such a short time ago she would have believed any sacrifice was worth getting James to stay under her roof and look after her, but the rest of her mind cried out for her lost pets.
After she was in bed, the door opened and James came in carrying a tray. 'Whisky and hot water and a couple of aspirin' he said. Til be downstairs. Drink up' He sat on the edge of the bed and held the glass to her lips and waited until she had swallowed the aspirin.
After he had left, Agatha lay awake, tears trickling out of the corners of her eyes. Everyone seemed sinister to her now, even James. What did she know of him? A man arrived in a village and claimed to be a retired colonel and everyone took him at face value. And yet, Bunty knew his family, and she, Agatha, had met his sister a year ago. But how formidable, how terrifying he had been when he had been slapping the miserable Jerry around. Ruthless, that was the word for it.
Slowly she drifted off to sleep, plagued with nightmares. Freda was torturing the cats and laughing while James looked on; Bill Wong invited her to dinner and served up the cats, roasted on a tray; and Miss Webster was sitting efficiently at her desk, with Agatha's two cats, stuffed and mounted, in front of her.
Agatha awoke in the morning. Sunlight was streaming into the room, there was a smell of coffee and the hum of voices from downstairs. She looked at the clock beside the bed. Ten in the morning!
She washed and dressed and went downstairs. Her kitchen was full of women: most of them members of the Carsely Ladies' Society, Mrs Harvey from the general store, and Mrs Dunbridge, the butcher's wife, all being served coffee by James.
They surrounded her as she came in, murmuring sympathy. Her kitchen counter was loaded with gifts of cake and jam and flowers. Even Miss Simms was there. 'Took the day off from work' she said.
'That's very kind of you' said Agatha, l>ut I don't know what you can do'
'Mr Lacey has had a very good idea' said Mrs Bloxby. 'We're organizing a search. Your cats may have been dumped off somewhere in the village, so we are all going out on a house-to-house hunt. You sit quietly here with Mr Lacey and we'll report if we find anything'
Agatha abruptly left the room and went up to the bathroom and cried her eyes out. All her life she had forged on, pushy and determined to get to the top of the public relations profession, all her life she had been alone. All this friendship and help made her feel weak.
When she went back downstairs, red-eyed but composed, only James and Mrs Parr were left.
'Mrs Parr has just been telling me much the same story as Miss Simms' said James. 'Bladen told her about the veterinary hospital and said he would name it after her. Her husband found out about the missing money and hit the roof'
'I suppose I might have done the same thing' said Agatha slowly, remembering that dinner at the Greek restaurant. 'He told me about his plans and I said I would contribute something, but I was thinking of a cheque for twenty pounds. And he was all ready to go to bed with me but I panicked and ran away. Did you have an affair with him, Mrs Parr?'
She shook her head. 'I wouldn't have done. That wasn't how he tricked me. I was so flattered by him because he said I was the only woman who understood him. I am not very happy in my marriage and he made me feel attractive. I should have told you before, but I felt such a fool. I was still a bit in love with him when he died, but after the funeral my mind cleared up and I could see what he had done.'
'Mrs Mason was telling me the same thing while you were upstairs, Agatha,' said James, 'He was a compulsive gambler, Mrs Parr, and that's why he needed the money.'
'That's odd' said Agatha. 'He didn't spend any of it. I mean, what he got out of the ladies of Carsely was still in his account.'
'I'll go off and join the search' said Mrs Parr. 'The least I can do.'
'Thanks for all this, James' said Agatha, when they were alone. Her eyes filled with tears again.
'Now, now, the time for crying is over. Let's sit down and discuss what we know. Instead of thinking that, say, Freda must have done it because she paid out the most money, what we should be looking for is someone with the
'Who can say what anyone will do when they're goaded?'
'You wouldn't kill anyone, Agatha, now would you?'
Except Freda, thought Agatha.
'What we should do,' he went on, 'is make a list of suspects and then divide it up and follow each one and see what she does during the day and who she sees and if there is anything suspicious about her behaviour. Now, the women who gave money to Bladen were Mrs Parr, Mrs Mason, Freda, Miss Webster, Mrs Josephs and Miss Simms. Then we have to take into account Paul's ex-wife, Greta. Also, there is one side of the case we have not been looking at. Bladen was killed up at Lord Pendlebury's stables. Bob Arthur found the body and came running out, saying, 'Looks like someone's done fer him'' Why should he say that? Why not think it a heart attack or something? There's another interesting thing I noticed about Bladen's bank statements. There were no major withdrawals, so he must have had cash to pay for all his food and entertaining. How did he pay the bill at the Greek restaurant?'
'Cash'
'Right. So what about Mrs Arthur? There's a thought'
'It gets worse and worse' said Agatha. 'Where do we begin?'
