Agatha Raisin and The Murderous Marriage

stomach. Lights were blazing everywhere. She had brought a torch, but both the hall and the office were brightly lit. There was a click and James gave a grunt of satisfaction and opened the door.

'Where do we start?' whispered Agatha, looking at the computers. 'One of those?'

'They've got those old-fashioned filing cabinets. I bet the records about the time of Jimmy's visit are still in one of those.' He tried a top drawer of one. It slid open easily. 'Good,' he muttered. 'Let's hope there's something under Raisin.' He searched all the files in both cabinets without finding anything.

'Now what?' he asked.

'Try under Gore-Appleton,' urged Agatha. 'Jimmy could never afford a place like this, so it stands to reason she would make the booking and pay for it.'

He grunted and went back to his searching while Agatha stood looking through the office window into the hall in case anybody came.

At last he said, 'Got it! Gore-Appleton, 400a Charles Street, Mayfair. Booking for a Mr. J. Raisin. August 1991.'

Agatha groaned. 'But how do we find out who was resident at the same time?'

'Damn, I didn't think of that. We signed a book, a register. It was a fairly new one. The old ones must be somewhere.'

'What about that cupboard over there?'

'Locked,' said James. 'But simple to pick.'

Agatha waited while he fiddled with the lock, growing more nervous by the minute. Surely their luck could not continue to hold. And would she hear anyone coming? The whole place was thickly carpeted.

'Here we are,' said James. '1991. Now, August.' He took a small notebook out of his pocket and began to write.

'Hurry up,' pleaded Agatha.

'That's it,' he said after a few more agonizing minutes. 'Let's put it all back and lock up.'

Agatha heaved a sigh of relief when they were outside the office and back in the hall.

'What did you get?' she was asking when a smooth voice from the direction of the stairs made them both jump.

'Is there anything you need?' Mr. Adder, in a black dressing-gown with a gold cord, his eyes gleaming behind his spectacles.

'No, no,' said James airily. 'Just been for a run.'

'Indeed,' said Mr. Adder, approaching them, his eyes fastening on the notebook which James was shoving back into his pocket. 'How did you get outside? The doors are locked at midnight.'

'Up and down the stairs,' said Agatha. 'Up and down the stairs?'

'I am so silly,' gushed Agatha. 'I have these step things at home. You know, one of those exercise machines. Well, it's vanity. I really wanted to be trim and fit for my medical in the morning, so I said to James, 'Let's run up and down the stairs.' They are so thickly carpeted, I knew we wouldn't disturb anyone.'

Mr. Adder's eyes were uncomfortably shrewd. 'You are therefore in better condition than I would have believed, Mrs. Raisin. You are not out of breath, neither are you sweating.'

'Oh, thank you!' said Agatha. 'I must really be quite fit, although I do confess to feeling a teensy bit tired. Bed, darling?'

'Good idea,' said James. 'See you in the morning, Mr. Adder.'

He blocked their way. 'You must not try to run your own programme or this whole stay will be a waste of your money and our time. Do not wander about during the night.'

'Right,' said James, putting an arm around Agatha's shoulders. They walked around Mr. Adder.

Agatha looked back as they gained the stairs. Mr. Adder was trying the office door to make sure it was locked.

'Phew,' she said, when they were back in their room. 'Think he swallowed that?'

'No, but he probably thought we were looking for the kitchens but tried the office door just to be sure. Now I chose the names out of the register of the people who live near Mircester who were here at the same time as Jimmy.' He flipped open the notebook. 'We have Sir Desmond Derring-ton and Lady Derrington, a Miss Janet Purvey, and a Mrs. Gloria Comfort. When we get out of here, however, the first thing we do is to go up to Charles Street in London and see if Mrs. Gore-Appleton is still at the same address. Then we'll start on these names.'

'Have you paid for the whole week in advance?' asked Agatha.

'Yes.'

'So don't you think we should stay the whole week and get our money's worth?'

'I should die of boredom,' said James, turning away to pick up his pyjamas and so missing the look of naked hurt in Agatha's eyes. 'May as well both get our medical check-up, have a swim or a massage or something, and then get the hell out of here.'

Agatha found at her medical the following morning that her blood pressure and cholesterol levels were both a bit high. After a breakfast of muesli and fruit, she looked at her programme and went to the masseur to be pulled and pummelled, then a sauna and then to the gym for the morning's aerobics.

James was already there. The class was led by a blonde with long, long legs and a staggeringly beautiful figure. Agatha panted and sweated, aware the whole time that James's eyes were fastened on the vision leading the class. From wanting to stay on the whole week, she suddenly couldn't wait to get out of the place. After the class was over, she fidgeted impatiently while James chatted to the blonde instructress.

Over a meagre salad lunch and fruit juice, James looked at his own programme. 'Going easy on me for the first day,' he said. 'Not much this afternoon. Like to go for a swim?'

Agatha had a sudden mental picture of her own body set against the glory of that of the instructress. She shook her head. 'I thought we should be getting on with our investigations.'

'Right you are,' he said easily. 'But I thought you wanted to stay.'

'Mr. Adder is over there and keeps darting little looks at us.'

'Agatha, I don't believe you. I think the aerobics class was too much for you.'

'Not in the slightest. I got a little puffed, that's all.'

'I wouldn't worry about Adder. It's quite pleasant here.' He laughed at the baffled look on Agatha's face. 'It's all right. We'll go. What excuse shall we give?'

'I have these fads. I'm a temperamental lady. I've changed my mind.'

'That should do the trick. If you've finished, go and start packing and I'll deal with Mr. Adder.'

Dealing with Mr. Adder proved trickier than James had expected. He listened in silence to James's tale of a temperamental wife, and then said, 'We don't give refunds.'

'I didn't suppose for a minute you did,' said James airily.

Mr. Adder leaned forward. 'Have you heard of co-dependency therapy?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'I think you could do with some counselling, Mr. Perth. We like to supply our customers with the best of service, and that includes looking after their mental welfare as well as their physical well-being. You appear to be in prime condition and yet you are married to a lady who gets you up in the middle of the night to run up and down the stairs. It strikes me that you have agreed to her whim to leave without protest. You have been taken hostage, Mr. Perth. '

'Oh, Agatha and I get on all right.'

Mr. Adder leaned forward and tapped James on the knee. 'Provided you always do exactly what she wants, hey?'

James put a shifty look on his face. 'Well, it's her money, you see.'

'And you go along with everything she wants because she holds the purse-strings?'

'Why not?' demanded James. 'I'm not getting any younger. Don't want to go out and look for work at my age.'

A look of distaste crossed Mr. Adder's features. 'If you choose to earn your money being at your wife's beck and call, then there is nothing I can do for you. But I have never come across a man whose appearance was more deceptive. I would have judged you a strong character of high morals and firm convictions who could not be bullied by anyone.'