Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden

'Could be. He's got a vicious temper. He believed all that stuff about her conjuring up the spirit of his dead wife, but then Francie slipped up. She got a bit carried away with her success because Harry was a regular visitor. Francie began to embroider too much. She had Harry's wife tease him about always losing socks. Now, Harry is a sock fanatic. He buys pairs of black socks, never a colour, and has always kept them in neat pairs. So he asks the spirit, 'What about my red pair?' and the spirit answers that the red pair probably got lost in the wash. So Harry tries a few more trick questions. He reported Francie to the police as a fraud and her place was raided but they couldn't find anything. Harry made such a song and dance about it before he went to the police that someone must have tipped Francie off. He said he would kill her.'

'But Harry!' Agatha conjured up a picture of Harry with his dowager's hump and his tortoise-like face.

'He's got powerful arms,' said Jennifer, calmly forking cake.

'But Daisy believed in the seance.'

'At first. But not any more.'

'So why on earth did she send me to Francie?'

'Probably because despite her fake seances, Francie had a good reputation for cures.'

'Do you think it was one of you, Jennifer?'

She shrugged. 'To tell the truth, I can't really believe that--except when I think about Mary breaking up the seance, when I think we were all probably the last to see her alive, Janine that is.'

'It is usually the husband,' said Agatha. 'I don't suppose the police will expect us to hang around Wyckhadden for much longer. I would like to get home.'

'Away from your police inspector?'

'I'll probably be back to see him,' said Agatha, waving to the waitress. 'Shall we go?'

Agatha returned to her room and fed Scrabble and put down a bowl of water. The cat ate and then stretched and purred and curled about Agatha's legs. 'I should really go home as soon as possible, Scrabble,' said Agatha. 'But what am I going to do with you? Cliff must be a murderer to turn you out.'

There was a knock at the door. Agatha opened it. Mary stood there. 'Come in,' said Agatha.

'Oh, you've got a cat,' said Mary. 'Isn't that Francie's cat?'

'I found it wandering on the beach, half starved.'

Mary closed the door and sat down.

'You spent a lot of time with Jennifer today,' she said brightly.

'Yes. How's your headache?'

'Fine, thank you. These new migraine pills are great. Why were you and Jennifer away so long?'

'Surely you asked her.'

She's in a bad mood and the whole room smells of depilatory. She told me to mind my own business. Now that is not like Jennifer. I hope you are not coming between us, Agatha.'

'I don't get this,' said Agatha. 'You gave me the impression that it was Jennifer who was possessive, and yet here you are like the rejected lover accusing me of taking her away from you.'

'We have a special friendship,' said Mary huffily. 'I was surprised, that's all. I mean, it was Jennifer who said you were a pushy sort of woman and not really our sort.'

A vision of the Birmingham slum in which she had been raised loomed up in Agatha's mind. She banished it with an effort and said calmly, 'I must ask Jennifer what she meant by that.'

Mary gave a thin little laugh. 'She probably won't remember. To tell the truth, she's been losing her short- term memory.'

'Which means you just made it up. Please leave, Mary, I have to get ready for dinner.'

Mary got to her feet and made her way to the door. 'Do you know what I think?' she said.

'No, and I don't want to.'

'I think you knew all along about Joseph from your inspector friend and only pretended to help me to humiliate me.'

'That's not the sort of thing I would dream of doing,' said Agatha, 'but it gives me a good insight into the workings of your mind. Take a good look at the other side of the door.'

I don't like her, thought Agatha. There is something badly wrong with that female. Or is there something badly wrong with Jennifer as well?

The phone rang. Agatha answered to find a slightly breathless Daisy at the other end. 'Could you pop along to my room, Agatha? I need some advice. The colonel and I are going to the theatre tonight.'

'Which is your room?'

'Number five. Go along the corridor outside your door to the left and it's just around the bend.'

Agatha walked along to Daisy's room. It seemed a welter of dresses. 'I've been trying everything on,' wailed Daisy. 'It's turned very cold but I don't want to spoil a dress by wearing a cardigan over it.'

'Let's see.' Agatha rummaged through the pile of dresses on the bed. 'What about this?' She held up a smoky-blue wool dress.

'Oh, do you think so?' Daisy's face fell. She picked up a green sequinned gown. 'I thought something more dressy.'

'No, it would be too much. You don't want to frighten him off. Besides, all these green sequins will throw a green light up on your face and you don't want that. Put on the blue dress and let me see it. I think I've got the very thing to go with it.'

When Agatha returned, Daisy was wearing the blue dress. 'There,' said Agatha, handing her a deep-blue wraparound cape. 'You put it on like so. It's a bit like a poncho. You throw that end around your shoulders. There!'

'I like that,' said Daisy. 'You are good.'

'And you won't need a cardigan. That thing's very warm. Now let's tone down your make-up. Too much mascara. It's sticking your eyelashes together. And what happened to that new soft lipstick you got from Mr. Jerome's wife?'

After dealing with Daisy, Agatha only had time for a hurried bath and change of clothes before going down to the dining-room. Old Harry was teasing the colonel and Daisy about their 'date.' But both Jennifer and Mary looked resentful, almost as if they guessed it was Agatha who had put the idea of Daisy's taking the colonel out into her mind.

Agatha carefully divided the food on her plate into half, a la Muriel Spark. It was delicious roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and little roast potatoes, courgette, carrots, cauliflower and cheese, new potatoes, and peas. She felt again guiltily that half was the equivalent of a full meal anywhere else.

After dinner she felt restless and bored. 'Game of Scrabble?' suggested Harry.

'Why not?' said Agatha gloomily.

Mary and Jennifer joined them. No wonder I never guessed what feuds and passions and emotions were lurking under the surface, thought Agatha as Harry shook out the tiles. You would think I'd never had that confrontation with Mary.

She tried to concentrate on the game. A waiter came in and drew the thick curtains, shutting out the view of a small cold moon shining on a large cold sea. Where is Cliff, the husband, now? wondered Agatha. I must ask Jimmy. I wonder if I'll see him before the weekend.

After two games she excused herself and went up to her room to receive a rapturous welcome from Scrabble. 'You don't look at all like the fierce animal who attacked me,' said Agatha, stroking the cat's soft white fur. 'I hope Boswell and Hodge like you because I don't think I could bear to give you away.' The phone rang after Agatha was undressed and climbing into bed. It was Daisy. 'Could you come along to my room, Agatha?'

Agatha said she would be along in a minute. She put on a dressing-gown and walked along to Daisy's room.

'How did it go?' she asked, sitting on Daisy's bed.

'We had such a nice time,' said Daisy, 'and he thanked me very much. I did suggest we might go somewhere for a drink afterwards but he said he was tired.' Her mouth drooped in disappointment.

'I should think a man like the colonel will feel honour-bound to repay the invitation,' said Agatha. 'He's been used to you as a friend. It will take time for him to think of you in any other light.'