sauce?'
'Why not?' Charles sat down at the table. 'Now what's going on here?'
As she worked at her domestic chores of taking off cardboard wrappings, piercing cling film and popping packets in the microwave, Agatha told him about the fairies of Fryfam and the theft of the Stubbs.
'But no murder?' asked Charles. 'I always see you surrounded by dead bodies.'
'Don't,' said Agatha with a shudder. 'Although there's a bit more. Tolly's wife thinks he's having an affair with Rosie Wilden, who runs the local pub, but she denies it and I believe her.'
'Why?' mocked Charles. 'Is she that ugly?'
'On the contrary, she's a country beauty.'
'Aha, let's skip the frozen fish and go to the pub.'
'They don't do meals.'
'What? Not even a Scotch egg?'
'Not even that. It's like a man's club or an old-fashioned pub. Women not welcome while the men gawp at Rosie.'
Charles looked around him. 'Not bad for a rented cottage. Bit cold, though.'
'No central heating. Lots of logs and I'll light this Calor gas heater.'
'What on earth brought you here?'
'Just an impulse. I was bored and I stuck a pin in the map.'
She put a plate of fish in front of Charles. 'Any wine?' he asked.
'I've got a bottle of Chablis I got in Tesco's the other day.'
'Tesco's around here?'
'Norwich.' Agatha took the bottle out of the fridge and handed him an opener.
'That reminds me,' she said, 'the night I arrived I went down to the pub looking for food. Rosie said they didn't do meals but invited me through to the kitchen to have some of the family food, which was delicious. She gave me this wine which was marvellous. I didn't know what it was.'
'So why didn't you ask her?'
'I meant to. But then it went out of my mind. I was taken aback when she wouldn't let me pay for anything. I've been invited to join the women's group here. I've been quilting.'
Charles snorted with laughter. 'Poor you. You must have been at your wits' end for some amusement. So let's finish this and go out and visit Tolly Trumpington-James.'
'There'll be police all over the place and Lucy's cleared off to London.'
'Still, we shall turn our great brains to the task of the missing Stubbs.'
The rain had settled down to a dismal drizzle. 'Not much of a place,' commented Charles as they drove past the village green.
'Looks all right in the sunshine.'
They drove out to the manor house. Various police cars, vans and other cars were parked outside.
They went up. Agatha rang the bell. The door was opened by the grumpy-looking woman who had served tea the day before.
'Tell Mr. Trumpington-James I wish to see him,' said Agatha grandly.
She clumped off. After a few moments, she returned and said, 'He's too busy.'
The door began to close. Charles held out his card. 'I'm staying with Mrs. Raisin. Perhaps he would like to give me a call?'
She squinted down at the card and the legend 'Sir Charles Fraith.'
Toily appeared in the hall behind. 'She gone yet?' he called.
The surly woman said. 'She's got a Sir Charles Fraith with her.'
Tolly surged forward, pushing her aside, an unctuous smile on his face.
'Glad to see you, Sir Charles,' he said. 'Come in. Come for some hunting? You do ride on horseback?'
'Camel, actually,' said Charles.
Tolly goggled at him, and then burst out laughing. 'Joke, eh? That's a good one. Come through. Mind if I call you Charles?'
He strode off in the direction of the drawing-room. 'What a twat,' muttered Charles. 'Come on, Aggie.'
They went into the drawing-room. 'Heard you'd had a painting pinched,' said Charles. 'Insured, I hope?'
'Fortunately. But it's not the money that bothers me. It's the fact that some cheeky bugger walked into my house as cool as you please and took it off the wall and disappeared with it.'
'And the burglar alarm was set?' asked Agatha.
'Yes,' said Tolly impatiently, 'and all the doors and windows were locked.'
'It was taken from the study, wasn't it. Can we have a look?'
'Not now. The police are in there.'
'What about that woman who answered the door?'
'Betty Jackson. Yes. But she's salt of the earth.'
'I find her a grumpy old bitch,' said Agatha.
Tolly stared insolently at her. 'You wouldn't understand. People like us are used to servants, eh Charles?'
'No,' said Charles. 'I get women up from the village to clean and when I've got a big house party, I get a catering company to cope. Aggie's quite right, you know. She is a grumpy old bitch.'
Tolly let out false bray of laughter. Then he said, 'Plan to stay long? I belong to the local hunt. Got some good hunting around here.'
'Don't hunt,' said Charles.
Tolly eyed him with sudden suspicion. 'What did you get your knighthood for?'
'It's a baronetcy,' said Charles patiently. 'In the family for years.'
'And where's your place?'
'Warwickshire. Actually, the reason we called is that Aggie and I have made a pretty good job at solving some mysteries in the past. Thought we might be able to help you.'
'Very kind of you. I don't see what you can do that the police can't.'
The door of the drawing-room opened, and a nondescript man looked in. 'Could we have a word with you, sir?'
'Sure.' He turned to Agatha and Charles. 'This is Detective Chief Inspector Percy Hand. He's in charge of things. I've been talking to a couple of amateur detectives here.'
Hand gave them a bleak smile. 'If you could come with me, sir.'
'Right,' said Tolly. 'Come again, if you like. Can you see yourselves out?'
'What a pill,' marvelled Charles. 'It's a wonder it's not a murder we're looking at.'
They got in the car. 'What's up, Aggie? You've got a face like a fiddle.'
'Why the hell should he think I'm not one of their sort! That's what he said.' Agatha looked miserably at her hands.
'Oh, that. It's because he's a vulgar pushy little man, insecure socially and always trying to put someone down. Cheer up. Maybe someone will murder him and then life around here will really get exciting.'
Agatha found she was enjoying Charles's company. They took a walk in the rain in the late afternoon. The air was full of the smell of grass and plants, although over all hung the redolent scent of the pine trees. They walked down past the little row of shops, farther than Agatha had gone, and turning a corner, found there were more little shops around the bend: an ironmonger's, a thrift shop, a dried-flower shop, which also sold candles of all shapes and sizes, and a small garage with two rusting old cars at the side of the forecourt.
The drizzle was steady and soaking and began to sweep across their vision in curtains of rain blown by a rising wind. Night had fallen and lights twinkled in cottage windows.
'Pub should be open by now,' said Charles. 'Let's go for a drink.'
The pub was still empty. Agatha took a seat by the fire after removing her soaking raincoat. 'A gin and tonic for me, Charles.'
Charles went up and rapped on the bar. A strong waft of rose perfume heralded the arrival of Rosie Wilden in a cream wool dress which complemented the creaminess of her complexion and the vivid blue of her eyes.
Charles leaned over the bar and began to flirt. First he affected astonishment that such rare beauty could be
