scrawny neck.
Shock takes people in strange ways. Kylie walked quickly to the foyer and told her fellow usherette to call the manager, and then she phoned the police. She told the man in the ticket office to come out and close the cinema doors and not let anyone else in. Then she lit a cigarette and waited. The police and an ambulance arrived, the CID arrived, pathologist, and then the forensic team.
Kylie told her story several times, was taken to the police station, where she repeated everything again, and then signed a statement.
She accepted a lift home in a police car and told the pretty young policewoman that she would be perfectly all right after she had a cup of tea.
When she let herself into her house, her husband shambled out of the living-room. He was wearing his favourite old moth-eaten cardigan and he had bits of boiled egg stuck to his moustache.
'I hate you!' screamed Kylie, and then she began to cry.
FIVE
JAMES and Agatha walked through the fog back to Lilac Lane from the Red Lion that evening. They were silent. The villagers had decided that they were not murder suspects and so, instead of a chilly silence, they had received a warm greeting and then had had to endure a heavy sort of banter, being teased about when they were going to tell everyone the date of their wedding day.
James had not wanted to say firmly that he would never marry Agatha because that would have been rude, and so it was the blunt Agatha who had suddenly said loudly, 'We're not suited; we're not marrying, and that's that!'
And instead of being grateful to her for having sorted the whole business out, James felt obscurely that Agatha had given him a public rejection and was in a mood remarkably like a sulk.
Agatha grabbed his arm. 'Look!' she cried.
Under the security light outside James's door stood Detective Chief Inspector Wilkes, Bill Wong, and Maddie.
'What's happened now?' asked James. 'Oh, God, I hope that Purvey woman hasn't committed suicide as well.'
Wilkes waited until they approached and then said, 'We'd better go inside.'
James let them in. They all stood around in the living-room.
'Sit down,' said Wilkes, his dark face serious. 'This might take some time. Did you call on a Miss Janet Purvey today?'
'Yes,' said Agatha. 'What is this about?'
'And where were you both this afternoon?'
'Before you go any further,' said James, 'I thought it was only in the movies that the police keep asking questions without telling anyone the real reason they are being questioned. So, out with it? Something awful has obviously happened to Miss Purvey.'
Bill Wong spoke up, his narrow eyes scanning both their faces. 'Miss Purvey was found strangled in the Imperial Cinema in Mircester this afternoon. So we must ask again, what were you both doing this afternoon?'
'You should know, Bill, that neither of us could have anything to do with her murder,' exclaimed Agatha.
'Just answer the question.' Maddie, her voice flat and hard.
'Yes, we saw Miss Purvey this morning,' said James. 'As far as we could gather, she had not been blackmailed, nor had she had much to do with either Mrs. Gore-Appleton or Jimmy Raisin when she was at the health farm. After we left her, we stopped at a pub over in Ancombe for sandwiches, then we came back here. Agatha went into Moreton to do some shopping and I stayed here. Mrs. Bloxby called on me when Agatha was out and stayed for coffee.'
Bill turned to Agatha. 'Did anyone see you in Moreton?'
'Of course,' said Agatha. 'I went into Drury's, the butcher's, and then to Budgen's supermarket...oh, and then I went to that bookshop in the arcade. Then I had a coffee at the Market House Tea Room. People should remember me.'
'We'll check all that,' said Maddie and Agatha threw her a look of pure dislike.
Wilkes leaned forward. 'So to get back to the beginning. I gather Wong here told you not to do any more amateur detecting. But you had to go ahead, did you not? So begin at the beginning to your visit to Miss Purvey.'
James described all they had talked about but with one important omission that Agatha noticed but kept quiet about it. He said nothing about Miss Purvey's wanting to play detective as well.
Wilkes then turned to Agatha and she had to tell her version of events.
The questioning went on and on. Finally Wilkes said, 'We'll need you both to come to the station and make a statement. Another death is just too much to swallow. Like I said, I gather that Wong here told you to mind your own business and leave the detecting to the police.'
'Why did she go to Mircester after we left her?' asked Agatha.
Wilkes sighed. 'Presumably to go to the cinema. We can only guess the rest. She may have been holding something back and telephoned someone and arranged to meet them. Or someone saw her in the cinema, recognized her and judged her to be a threat. Just leave things to us.'
They all asked more questions before taking their leave.
Agatha and James stared at each other in gloomy silence.
At last James said, 'Look, Agatha, none of this is our fault. We didn't strangle her. But there is one good thing, if you can call it good, that will come out of all this. Press interest in the case will be renewed. They'll run that interview with us. People will know we are looking for Mrs. Gore-Appleton, and someone is bound to come forward.'
'I wish the whole mess were over with,' said Agatha wearily. 'Perhaps we should leave the whole thing to the police.'
'Well, we've only got one more name,' pointed out James. 'There's a Mrs. Gloria Comfort and she lives right in Mircester, near the abbey. And even if
The next morning James rose early and went out and bought all the newspapers. Black headlines screamed at him. Yeltsin had been overthrown. The generals in Moscow had made a coup. The Cold War was on again. The papers were full of reports on the front pages, and on the inside were endless articles by pundits. The murder of one elderly spinster in Mircester rated only a small paragraph in each. The rump of Serbia was supporting the generals. Russia was beginning to be torn apart by civil war.
He took the newspapers back to Agatha, who was playing with her cats on his kitchen floor. She rose to her feet and studied them in silence.
'At least,' said Agatha at last, 'we can go on detecting. If we had been the focus of press attention, it would have been hard to do.'
They talked about the world situation and then decided they might as well go into Mircester and make their statements, go somewhere for lunch, and then call on Mrs. Gloria Comfort.
Maddie and Bill Wong were having a cup of tea in the canteen later that day. It was the first time since interviewing Agatha and James that they were able to have a private conversation.
'So what do you think of your precious Agatha Raisin now?' demanded Maddie. 'That woman's like a vulture. Dead bodies wherever she goes.'
'That's a bit hard,' protested Bill. 'Their visit to Der-rington may have touched off his suicide, but they were only a bit ahead of us and if the old boy was going to top himself, he would have done it sooner or later. And they had nothing to do with the murder of Miss Purvey. Agatha's alibi checks out. Look, Maddie, I must make one thing
