drinking. 'Now,' said Agatha, 'is there anyone else in these flats who would be prepared to answer questions?'
'There's George Harris and old Mr. Black-'
'I would prefer a woman. They're better at answering questions.'
'Well, there's Mrs. Findlay, but I haven't seen much of her lately, or her husband, for that matter.'
Agatha felt a pang of disappointment. This was just a flat the Findlays had bought or rented in town. She fished out a twenty-pound note and handed it over.
She rose to her feet. Mrs. Tite stroked and folded the note and then tucked it in the pocket of her old woollen cardigan. 'I'll see myself out,' said Agatha. 'Don't bother to get up.'
'It's nice to see that,' said Mrs. Tite, almost as if speaking to herself. 'Love like that in middle age, and them married so long.'
Agatha swung round, her hand on the door-handle. 'You mean Captain and Mrs. Findlay?'
'Is he a captain? I didn't know that. Never used the title.'
'I knew some Findlays,' said Agatha slowly. 'I must be confusing this Mr. Findlay with Captain Findlay. What does he look like?'
'Small, tubby man. High colour. Wore sporty clotheshacking jacket, cravat with a horse-head pin in it.'
'Thank you,' said Agatha. She scampered down the stairs and across the road to the cafe, where she told Charles what she had found out, ending with 'It couldn't have been Tolly, could it?'
'Sounds like it.'
'But that's impossible! Why would a rich man like Tolly want to philander with someone like Lizzie Findlay?'
'Think about it. He's married to a hard blonde who made it clear she only married him for his money. He chats up Lizzie, at first with the simple view in mind of ingratiating himself with her husband. What if it dawns on him that Lizzie finds him attractive? He's in love with the whole image of country life, and here's a real-live country lady who bakes cakes and makes jam-anyway, I'll bet she does. Maybe they meet by chance in Norwich one day and it takes off from there.'
'And maybe she got a bottle of rose perfume from Rosie,' said Agatha, 'and that's what Lucy smelt in the bedroom.' She shook her head. 'It's too far-fetched.'
'We can ask her.'
'What?'
'We can just ask her. We'll try to get her on her own. Let's try this evening. I bet the captain goes out somewhere with his hunting cronies. Worth a try.'
'I can't bear the idea of hiding out in those pines again.'
'We'll go home and wait until after seven and then phone.'
'But,' said Agatha, as they walked to the car-park, 'why on earth would she keep on the flat, continue to dress up, buy sexy underwear, if Tolly was the man. Tolly's dead.'
'Maybe she found someone else.'
'Highly unlikely.'
'All will be revealed if we can get her alone.'
When they got home, Agatha ate a hurried meal of sandwiches and phoned Rosie Wilden and asked her if she could buy some of her rose perfume.
'You're welcome to a bottle,' said Rosie. 'Next time you're in the pub, just ask.'
'Thank you very much. I smelt some of your perfume just recently. Let me see, who was it? Ah, I believe it was Mrs. Findlay, Captain Findlay's wife.'
'That'd be right,' ' said Rosie. 'Very partial to my perfume is Mrs. Findlay. I can't tell you how to make it because it's a family secret, but you just drop by and I'll let you have it.'
Agatha thanked her and rang off. She went into the sittingroom, her face pink with excitement. She told Charles about the perfume.
'So,' he said, 'all we need to do is find Lizzie on her own.'
Charles waited until seven-thirty that evening before dialling Lizzie's number. She answered the phone and when she said nervously that her husband was not at home, Charles said, 'It's you I want to speak to. Can I come round?'
'I'm afraid it's not convenient.'
'It's about your flat in Norwich.'
There was a little frightened gasp, and then Lizzie said breathlessly, 'I'll see you, but not here.'
'Come here, then,' said Charles. 'It's Lavender Cottage, along Pucks Lane. Do you know it?'
'Yes.'
'We'll expect you soon.'
'You know what's bothering me,' said Charles after he had told Agatha that Lizzie was going to call on them. 'The fairies. I mean, the fairies have been totally forgotten in all this murder and mayhem.'
'True. But if it was connected to the murder, why would anyone go to such elaborate lengths? Think of the risk, taking cheap bits of this and that.'
'You forget about the Stubbs.'
'I don't think the theft of the Stubbs had anything to do with it. Oh, there's the doorbell. Lizzie's quick.'
But when Agatha opened the door, it was Hand who stood on the doorstep.
'Thought you would like to know,' he said, stepping past her into the hall, 'that whoever turned over your place wore gloves. Except for a set over near the fireplace. Had any children round here?'
'No, none at all. In fact, I don't think there are any in the village other than Mrs. Jackson's.'
'So we believe. My men have gone to see her with Detective Sergeant Carey. Just thought I'd check with you first.'
'No, no children that I know have been round here,' said Agatha, almost nudging him towards the door, desperate to get him to leave before Mrs. Findlay arrived.
'Right, then,' he said, looking at her suspiciously. 'I'll let you know how we get on.'
'Good, good,' said Agatha. 'Many thanks.'
How slowly he seemed to leave! Walking slowly along the side path past the hedge to where his car was parked.
Agatha waited nervously until she heard him drive off and then shot back into the house. 'Phone Lizzie,' she said to Charles. 'She may have come round when Hand was here and got frightened off.'
Behind her, the doorbell rang again, making her jump.
'That'll be Lizzie,' said Charles.
SIX
LIZZIE Findlay came in, blinking in the light. She looked small and faded and scared.
'Are you going to blackmail me?' she asked.
'Not at all,' said Charles. 'Take off your coat and come into the sitting-mom.'
He helped her out of her coat.
When they were all seated in front of the fire, Charles said, 'We've found out you spent some time with Tolly, masquerading as his wife, in Norwich.'
Lizzie went white. 'You won't tell my husband!'
'No,' said Agatha. 'We just want to know what it's all about. We won't tell the police either.'
'I suppose I'll have to tell you,' said Lizzie, looking miserably down at her work-worn hands. 'It started last year. Tolly was very nice to me and we talked a lot at those interminable hunt dinners. After a bit, I began to tell him how awful my marriage was and he began to tell me how awful his marriage was and one thing led to another. My husband goes out a lot, and Tolly then came up with this idea of taking the flat in Norwich. My husband was going away to visit relatives in Canada for a month and he said he wouldn't take me. So that really started it, that month together. I was worried about Lucy finding out, but he said she didn't care a rap for him, only his money.'
