'That will be all for now. Send the colonel in.'
Agatha rose. 'Jimmy, could I have a word with you in private?'
Carroll glared.
'No, you can't,' said Jimmy coldly. 'Send the colonel in.'
All Agatha had wanted to do was to apologize to him for rushing him. Feeling very low, she told the colonel to go in and sat by the fire. She lit another cigarette and stared moodily at the others. It was odd. Surely it was odd that this second murder, this murder of a woman they had all seen last night, should not be discussed amongst them. She got up and went to the window. A boat was bobbing by the pier. She watched, fascinated, as the body of Janine was lifted aboard. A team of divers arrived. Why? They had the body. Evidence, of course. They would be searching on the sea-bed for some sort of weapon. How did she die? And if someone had thrown her from the pier, where was her coat? It had been bitterly cold last night. Janine would not have gone out wearing nothing but a thin muslin gown. Cliff could have killed her, thrown the body in the sea, and the currents could have carried it round to the pier.
Surely Cliff was the murderer. He stood to gain not only Janine's money but the money she had inherited from her mother, and she must have inherited Francie's house and money or she would not have moved into that house in Partons Lane.
If only the police would decide it was Cliff. If they did not arrest him, then she would be trapped in Wyckhadden. She thought of her cottage, of her cats, Hodge and Boswell, of James Lacey, of her neighbours, and she began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears.
'Going up to my room,' she said gruffly.
No one replied.
Agatha went upstairs. She collapsed on the bed and in a minute she was fast asleep.
She was awakened two hours later by a knocking at the door. She struggled up off the bed and went to answer it. A policewoman stood there. 'You are to accompany me to the station.'
'Wait a minute,' said Agatha, thinking of Jimmy. 'I'd better put some make-up on.'
She went into the bathroom and quickly cleaned her face and put on fresh make-up. Then she remembered that love potion. Francie had said five drops. Five drops would leave enough to analyse when she got home. She slipped the bottle into her handbag and went out to join the policewoman.
Back again to the station, back to the interview room. Agatha sat down on a hard chair. The policewoman came in with a tray with a teapot, milk and sugar and a china mug, and a paper cup of coffee. She handed Agatha the paper cup. 'Who's the tea for?' asked Agatha, looking at the coffee with distaste. 'That's for the inspector' was the reply.
'Lucy!' called a voice from outside in the corridor. Lucy put the tray down on the table and went out. Agatha could hear her speaking to someone outside. Quick as a flash, Agatha whipped out the bottle of love potion and, with one eye on the door, tipped a little into the teapot.
The policewoman came back in and picked up the tray and departed. Agatha sat alone. She was just about to rise and shout down the corridor for someone when the door opened and Tarret and Carroll came in, accompanied by a policewoman. Tarret and Carroll sat opposite Agatha, the policewoman switched on the recording machine, and the interview began.
This time the questions were more searching. The police had learned from the others that the seance had been Agatha's idea. Why?
'It seemed a bit of a lark,' said Agatha weakly.
'A lark that led to murder. Now let's go over everything from the beginning.'
After an hour of close questioning, Agatha began to wonder if people confessed to the murder of someone, a murder they had not committed, out of sheer weariness and a sense of unnatural guilt caused by the beady, suspicious eyes of detectives.
At last she was free to go but told not to leave Wyckhadden.
As she was leaving the police station, she was called back by the desk sergeant. 'The inspector wants a word with you.' He buzzed her through the door beside the desk and then led her along a corridor to a room at the end, opened the door, and said, 'Mrs. Raisin, sir.'
Jimmy rose to meet her. Agatha's eyes flew to the tea-tray, which was balanced on the top of book shelves. Had he drunk any?
'Sit down, Agatha,' said Jimmy. 'I've got a minute or two free.'
'I'm sorry about the other night,' said Agatha. She decided to tell him the truth. 'I went to see Janine to see if I could get more of that hair tonic of her mother's. She didn't have any but she offered to read my palm. She said I would have no more adventures. She also said I would never have sex again. I wanted to prove her wrong. You mustn't worry about it. It doesn't mean there's anything up with you. It happens to lots of men.'
Jimmy looked at her intently. 'You're not just saying that to comfort me? About it happening to a lot of men?'
'No, it really does. I thought you would know that.'
He smiled. 'It's hardly the thing men talk about and in this station, you would think we were all a virile lot, to hear the stories in the canteen. The fact is, my wife was my first and my last.'
'There you are!' said Agatha. 'It stands to reason. If it weren't for this wretched murder, we could take it slowly, become friends first.'
'We could still manage that. I'm afraid you're trapped here for a bit longer.'
'How did she die?'
'She drowned, or so the preliminary examination suggests. Her husband said she couldn't swim.'
'Has he been arrested?'
'No, he's been taken in for questioning, but I don't think we can hold him.'
'Why?'
'Some elderly lady in one of those boarding-houses in the front is awake for a good part of the night. She said it was around two in the morning. She saw Francie hurrying along the prom in the direction of the pier.'
'Surely not in that white dress. It was freezing cold.'
'The witness said Janine had a big black cloak on, and they recovered a cloak from the sea. Then she said she saw Cliff. He ran a little way after her. She turned round and, shouted, 'Go back to the house. Leave me alone. I know what I'm doing.' She said Cliff turned back. She sat at the window, reading and occasionally looking out. She said she sat there until dawn and never saw either of them again.'
'But,' exclaimed Agatha, 'if Janine said she knew what she was doing, somehow that suggests that Cliff knew who she was going to meet.'
'That's what we thought,' said Jimmy. 'But so far Cliff is sticking to his story, which is that Janine had received a phone call. She got up and got dressed. He said he was sleepy and it was only when he heard the street door slam behind her that he thought it was odd.
'He ran after her but she told him to go home. He says he doesn't know who phoned or who she was meeting.'
'But that phone call could be traced.'
'It was made from a phone-box at the entrance to the pier, so we're none the wiser. We're under a lot of pressure. The newspaper headlines will be screaming about the witch murders tomorrow and already the town's filling up with photographers and reporters and television crews with their satellite dishes. I've got the chief constable on my back. The superintendent from Hadderton is coming down to take over. I'm relieved in a way. It takes some of the pressure off me.'
'You know what I find odd?' said Agatha. 'That lot at the hotel. First there's the seance, which Mary broke up as soon as the supposed spirit of Francie was about to accuse someone. Then they don't talk about the murders, none of them do. This evening the colonel will probably suggest a game of Scrabble. They will make little jokes about the meaning of words, Harry Berry will add up the scores, I will be bottom of the league as usual, and that will be that.'
'The colonel did say that the whole business was distasteful and best forgotten about. It's maybe the way his generation goes on.'
'Rubbish,' said Agatha roundly. 'No one can ignore two murders.'
