chops.'
'I'll tell you why that is. When did you last have a pork chop that tasted like anything? You're not thinking of joining an animal-rights group, are you?'
'Not me, sweetie. I just don't enjoy meat so much. Feels unhealthy.'
'Here we are.' Agatha drew up outside the farm door. 'And there is Angela.'
Angela Buckley stood watching them, strong arms folded across a checked shirt-covered bosom, strong legs in cord and cowboy boots.
'Wouldn't want to meet her on a dark night,' muttered Roy.
They got out of the car. Agatha introduced Roy.
'What d'you want?' demanded Angela harshly. 'Not still poking your nose into things that are none of your business, are you?'
'Did you know Mary Owen was paying those Save Our Foxes people to demonstrate, and that they're going to be at the spring this afternoon to fill it in with cement?'
'What? You'd better come indoors. I've got the kettle on.'
'I like this,' said Roy, looking around the farm kitchen. 'So truly rural.'
Angela flashed him a look of contempt.
'So what's this about Mary?' She took the kettle off the Aga and proceeded to make a pot of coffee.
Roy watched anxiously. Angela's way of making coffee consisted of spooning coffee into the pot and pouring boiling water on top of it. He hoped she would allow the grounds to settle, but she stirred the mixture up with a long spoon. Agatha said black and Roy, white, and then Roy bleakly looked down at the gritty coffee swirling around in his cup.
Agatha explained again about Mary. 'The old bitch,' said Angela furiously. 'I hope the police have arrested her.'
'They've taken her in,' said Agatha. 'But what puzzles me is that Fred Shaw said Mary was broke and that's why she wanted to marry Robert Struthers. But if she's broke, how come she could pay these people--wages, transport, not to mention bags of cement, and fines in court?'
'I think Fred Shaw invented the whole thing. He's always sneering because Mary lives in the manor and doesn't seem to put much money into it. She does all the cleaning herself, things like that. Did he say Mary wanted to marry old Robert?'
'Yes, and he said Jane Cutler was after him as well.'
Angela's face darkened. 'That I could believe. The mercenary old bag.'
'Don't you think Mary could have murdered Struthers? She must have felt very strongly about the spring to pay Save Our Foxes.' Agatha took out a tissue and dabbed at the moustache of coffee grounds above her mouth.
'She felt very strongly about having her will crossed. I noticed she always seemed to be wining and dining Robert, but I thought that was because she didn't like not getting her own way and Robert used to drive her mad with exasperation because he wouldn't tell her of his decision.'
'Why did you warn me off?'
'Because,' said Angela patiently, 'once you start digging around people's personal lives, a lot of people get hurt, and unnecessarily so.' She glared at Roy. 'Who the hell are you?'
'Friend of Aggie's down for the weekend. Me and Aggie go back a long way.'
'You're too young to go back a long way. You don't have to try to make a liaison look respectable to me.'
'Oh, for Pete's sake,' howled Agatha. 'Can't I have a conversation with anyone in this damn village without being insulted?'
'If you poke around people's private lives to find out the worst about them, they're bound to think the worst of you,' said Angela. 'Now, I'm busy. Why don't you push off?'
'Well!' said Roy when they drove off. 'Is it something in the soil here that makes everyone bitter and twisted? Feel like seeing anyone else?'
Agatha looked at the clock on the dashboard.
'No, let's have lunch, and then go to the spring for the fun and games.'
As they sat over lunch, Roy asked if anything had been found out about the cat with white hair. 'Not that I know of,' said Agatha. 'You remember, we looked and looked.'
They heard the wail of police sirens in the distance. 'The troops have arrived,' said Roy. 'Cheer up, Aggie. All this will keep Ancombe in the news.'
They left the car outside the pub and walked along to the spring. Alerted by the sirens, villagers were starting to make their way along as well.
Agatha saw Bill Wong talking to some policemen and went across to him. He led her a little to one side. 'Mary Owen does have a cast-iron alibi.'
'But her sister could be covering for her, surely?'
'She was seen by the neighbours. The curtains in the evening weren't drawn and the two sisters could be seen sitting over dinner, and talking.'
'Rats. Back to square one. Have you arrested Mary Owen?'
'No, there's nothing illegal about donating money to these groups. Unless we can get one of them to confess that Mary Owen actually told them to take action, we haven't anything on her. And she says all that about her being broke is a fiction and says we can check with her bank.'
'What about that chap who told James she was paying them?'
'Billy Guide? With any luck he'll be with the rest. Here's James.'
James and Agatha exchanged frosty little nods.
'Here come the protesters,' said Roy.
The bus canying them stopped a little way along the road. Agatha could see several of them glaring out at the unexpected sight of the large police presence. They argued for a few minutes, then the door of the bus slid open. Four of the men appeared, carrying between them a bag of cement.
Followed by the others, they headed for the spring. James, his hair dyed back to its normal colour and minus the ear-rings, said to Bill Wong, 'Billy Guide is not among them, and where's Zak?'
'He was pulled out. After seeing us all here today, they'd start searching around for an informer. They'll probably think it was you, but they might have picked on Zak, and he was fed up with the job anyway. Billy Guide was taken to hospital the day after your hospitality suffering from pancreatitis.'
A policeman stood in front of the four carrying the bag of cement. 'Where are you going with that?'
'Keep going!' shouted Sybil from behind them. 'Don't let the pigs stop you.'
To the protesters' surprise, the policeman stood aside. They marched to the spring and one slit open the neck of the bag of cement.
That, of course, Agatha realized, was the moment the police had been waiting for. They had to be caught in the act of trying to block the spring. The men were seized, the bag wrenched away. The other protesters, about twenty of them, began attacking the police, kicking and punching and gouging.
Sybil was dragged past James by two policemen. She looked at him as she passed with dawning recognition and then spat full in his face.
'I quite warm to that girl,' said Agatha.
Six
Agatha went back to London with Roy after the weekend. She knew journalists, ever fickle creatures, were quite capable of forgetting to turn up for the fete, and needed to be reminded of it and bullied all over again into coming. She also needed an excuse to get away from Carsely, James and Guy.
At first she found the journalists had become lukewarm about the prospect of a visit down to the country to a fete to celebrate the launch of water, of all things. So Agatha told them all about the attempt to block up the spring,
