I was going to get a divorce, but I don't think he ever really meant to divorce Lucy. He did not want to pay her alimony, you know.'
'And how long had this been going on?'
'Over a year.'
'And where did ... er ... you ... where did your liaison take place?'
'Here and there,' said Lizzie vaguely. She looked directly at her husband. 'It really got going when you went to Canada. If you remember, you wouldn't take me. You said it wasn't worth the extra expense.'
The questioning went on. Did she know anyone with a cutthroat razor? Had Mr. Trumpington-James mentioned any enemies?
And Lizzie answered every question with that same calm. When the questioning was finally over, she rose to her feet and said, 'I am going upstairs to get my belongings and I would be grateful if you two gentlemen could wait here until I leave. I will tell you where I am going but I do not want my husband to have the address. He is a violent man.'
'Violent enough to kill?' asked Hand.
Lizzie gave a little smile and sank the final metaphorical dagger right into her husband's breast. 'Oh, yes,' she said, and then she left the room.
'Now, sir,' said Hand to the captain, 'where were you the night Mr. Trumpington-James was murdered?'
The captain began to answer the questions in a dull voice. His colour was muddy and his voice flat and expressionless.
When they had finished questioning him, they went out into the hall, where Lizzie was sitting with two large suitcases. 'Are we ready to go?' she asked brightly. 'I've written my address down for you.'
'I think you should accompany us to headquarters first,' said Hand. 'Detective Sergeant Carey will travel in your car with you.'
'Too kind,' murmured Lizzie. 'Mr. Carey, if you could help me to my car with the cases? Thank you.'
Agatha and Charles had spent a frustrating day. They had gone to call on the gamekeeper, only to find he had been taken off in a police car. 'So maddening not to know anything,' mourned Agatha. 'Maybe the gamekeeper did it. Maybe Lucy was having an affair with the gamekeeper.'
'How Lady Chatterley of her if she was,' said Charles. 'What about les girls?'
'You mean Harriet et al?'
'Exactly. Gossip runs round this village like wildfire.'
'I know where she lives. Let's go.'
Hariett was at home and her friends were with her, their husbands being, as usual, in the pub.
'Come in,' said Harriet eagerly. 'I was just thinking of phoning you. Such news! Fancy the Stubbs turning up in your kitchen!'
'How did you hear?' asked Agatha, following Harriet into her sitting-room, where Polly, Amy and Carrie were quilting.
'One of the policemen went into the pub for a pint and got talking to Rosie, and Carrie met Rosie on the village green and she told her. And guess what? Mrs. Jackson and Paul Redfern have been taken off in police cars. Do you think they did it?'
'No,' said Agatha. 'What reason would they have? Gosh, I know. I bet they witnessed that will.'
Four pairs of eyes goggled at her. Charles tried to give Agatha a warning kick but she was off in full gossipy flight. 'There was a will attached to the back of the painting. I believe it leaves the Stubbs to Lizzie Findlay.'
'That figures,' said Polly.
'Why?'
'Well, I always said there was something going on there, didn't I? Last hunt dinner, I said to Peter I could swear they had been playing footsie under the table and he said, `Don't be disgusting.' Wait till I tell him this.'
'Oh, I don't think anything was going on,' said Agatha.
'So loyal, so late,' murmured Charles.
'I think the police have arrested Lizzie,' said Amy.
'Why would they do that?' asked Charles.
'Sloppy Melton, who works on the farm the other side of the road from the captain's land, said he went up to see the man who runs the captain's farm, that's Joe Hardwick, and while they were talking, Lizzie comes out with suitcases and gets in her car, but there was a detective beside her and another following.'
'If they'd arrested her,' said Agatha, 'she wouldn't have been allowed to leave in her own car and with suitcases. I think she's left the captain.'
'She wouldn't dare,' breathed Carrie. 'She was terrified of him.'
'What if the captain thought his wife was having an affair with Tolly,' said Agatha, and then coloured as Charles glared at her. 'I mean, the whole idea's ridiculous, but he might have believed she was and gone and murdered Tolly.'
'You don't know hunting,' said Polly. 'It's not a sport, it's a religion. The captain would have given Tolly his wife if it kept the funds coming in.'
'But why on earth would Mrs. Jackson and the gamekeeper keep quiet about the will?' asked Agatha.
'That's easy,' said Carrie. She smiled. She was wearing an attractive shade of pink lipstick and her eyes kept drifting to Charles.
'What's easy?' demanded Agatha crossly.
'It stands to reason that when it transpired, the solicitors had a will leaving everything to Lucy, and no mention was made of any other will, they would assume that was the only will.'
'Or,' said Harriet, 'it could be because they were just told to put their signatures down at the bottom of the will and didn't bother reading it. Why would they? Tolly would simply say he wanted their signatures, and they would sign, because he was the boss.'
'What do you think of your fairies now?' asked Agatha, keeping her eyes on Carrie. 'I mean, don't you feel rather silly finding out that it was only Mrs. Jackson's children?'
'There're strange things go on in old parts of Britain like this, but you wouldn't understand,' said Polly dismissively. 'Now you're here, Agatha, would you like to do some quilting?'
'We've got to get going,' said Agatha. 'Come along, Charles.' She marched to the door of the sitting-room. She heard a burst of laughter and whipped round. Charles was creeping after her, touching his forelock. When he saw her glaring he said meekly, 'Coming, missus. Don't beat me.'
'Clown!' said Agatha, when they got outside.
'Don't order me around like a dog, Agatha. If you go on like that, they really will think I'm your toy boy.'
'You can't be a toy boy,' said Agatha nastily. 'You're too old and you haven't got muscles.'
'Let's go to the pub and see if we can pick up any gossip.' Charles set off rapidly across the village green, leaving Agatha to follow him.
When Agatha went into the pub, Charles was already at the bar, smiling at Rosie and ordering drinks. Agatha joined him. 'There you are,' said Charles. 'One large gin and tonic for you. Oh, look, there's Framp over there. Let's join him.'
The policeman was sitting alone at a corner table. As they walked to join him, Agatha was aware of three pairs of hostile eyes. While the wives were quilting, the husbands were back in the pub. She wondered about Henry Freemantle. He had threatened her and seemed to have a filthy temper. She must find out more about him.
Framp's glass was nearly empty, so Charles offered to buy him another. 'Don't tell her anything until I get back with your drink,' said Charles.
'I'm not allowed to tell anyone anything,' said Framp moodily.
When Charles returned with the policeman's pint of beer, Agatha said, 'I cannot understand why Mrs. Jackson and Redfern signed a will and didn't tell you about the new will.'
'I can tell you that,' said Framp, mellowed by the sight of the large pint. 'It's simple. They said they didn't read the will, and as far as they were concerned that was the only will.'
'Oh.' Agatha was disappointed.
'Why do you think the Stubbs landed up in your house?' asked Framp. 'And how did they get in?'
'Everyone seems to have keys to everywhere in this village,' said Agatha.
Charles looked guilty. 'I forgot to tell you, Aggie. I didn't lock up.'
