As Charles and Agatha exited, flashes blinded them and Agatha stumbled. Charles put an arm about her shoulders and got her into the police car.
When they arrived back at the cottage, Charles said, 'Let's get the cats and clear off somewhere for the night and try to work out what we've got. If we stay here, the press will be hammering on the door any minute.'
'Where will we go? A hotel won't take cats.'
'We'll find one of those roadside motels. Don't mention the cats. We'll get a key and then just carry them in when no one is looking.'
They hurriedly packed a couple of suitcases and put the cats in their travelling boxes and set out again. They found a motel on the outskirts of Norwich. It was a very expensive motel, and to Agatha's amazement Charles produced his credit card to pay for the bill. What had happened to this man, who was expert at 'forgetting' his wallet?
They drove round to their room and carried the luggage and the cat boxes in. There were a sitting-room and a bedroom with one large double bed.
'We should have got one with single beds,' said Agatha.
'Don't make a fuss,' said Charles, who was kneeling on the floor and helping Hodge and Boswell out of their boxes. 'It's an enormous bed. You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. Put the cats in the middle if you fear for your honour.'
'Should we tell the police where we are?' asked Agatha.
'I'll do that. Then we'd better eat something. We never seem to eat much these days.'
Charles phoned the police and explained they were keeping away from the press.
'Let's wrap up and take a walk after we have something to eat. This place has a restaurant.'
After they had eaten, they turned off the main road where the hotel was situated and walked along a country lane. A strong wind was blowing, sending the last of the autumn leaves swirling about their feet. Great ragged clouds chased each other across a stormy sky, driven by a north-eastern all the way from Iceland.
Agatha was glad she had put on boots and trousers. They walked a mile or two before returning to the hotel. When they went into their motel sitting-room, the cats ran up to Charles, purring and rubbing themselves against his legs.
'It's funny the cats should like you so much,' said Agatha, taking off her coat. 'They wouldn't ever go near James like that.'
'They have good taste, those cats of yours.'
'I thought you liked James.'
'He's a man's man, to put it politely. If you had got married to him, Agatha, he would expect you to go on like his batman.'
'He always respected my independence.'
'When you were having an affair. Marriage is different. After the first fine careless rapture is over, it all comes down to. . . `What did you do with my socks?' Believe me, that one would have expected his shirts ironed and his dinner on the table.'
'It's not going to happen,' snapped Agatha. 'I thought we were going to discuss this case?'
'Okay. Let's sit down and work it out.' Charles took several sheets of motel stationery. 'Now who and what have we got? Who is your prime suspect?'
'What about Captain Findlay? I'd like it to be him.'
'So, does he steal the Stubbs as well?'
'Could be. If Tolly was loose-mouthed enough to tell the world the code for his burglar alarm, he may have confided in someone at the hunt about the Stubbs. Anyone else?'
'There's more going on in that village than we can even begin to imagine,' said Charles. 'Let's go back to the beginning. Lucy thinks her husband is having an affair with Rosie Wilden.'
'But I thought Lizzie cancelled that idea out.'
'Not necessarily. Why should Lizzie be the only one to have an affair with Tolly? Once he started philandering, he might have felt like spreading his wings.'
'Then why should anyone murder him, Charles? Lizzie was the one getting the Stubbs.'
'Rats. Try again. You know, it's a pity Lucy has such a cast-iron alibi. Do you know what I think? I think we should nip back to the manor and try to see that gamekeeper.'
'All right,' said Agatha wearily. 'We seem to have reached a dead end here. I'll feed the cats and give them some food. Better hang the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door in case some maid comes in when we're out and frightens them.'
The day was even colder when they set out for Fryfam, with a fiery-red sun sinking into black clouds. 'Could almost snow,' said Charles.
'Not yet, surely. It doesn't snow in Britain until January.'
'Not anywhere else. This is Norfolk. But you're probably right. Isn't it funny, all those films and books about Christmas in England? It always snows. And yet I've never seen a white Christmas, except in places like Switzerland.'
'Let's hope it doesn't snow here. That's all we need. I wonder how Lizzie is getting on. She'll have gone to that flat in Norwich. Will she have enough to live on?'
'She can always get a job. Do you remember the captain said something about her wanting to be a secretary? If she's got shorthand and typing, she should get a job easily, despite her age.'
'Maybe not. It's all -computers these days. Let's not stay away too long.'
'You're worried about your cats. Don't be. They're warm and fed and they've got each other for company.'
As they approached the entrance to the manor-house drive, Charles said, 'Let's get out and walk.'
'Why?' grumbled Agatha. 'It's freezing and I've walked enough for one day.'
'If the police are about, I don't want them asking me any more questions. At the first sight of a uniform, we're off.'
Still grumbling, Agatha got out of the car. They set off up the drive. 'There's a road that leads off into the estate before we reach the house. The gamekeeper's cottage is probably along there,' said Charles. 'I wonder if Lucy's having a shoot. Waste of good birds if she's not. Pheasant all over the place.'
'I don't think Lucy's the type to have any interest in country sports at all.'
'She could charge good money for it. Look, there's someone over there.'
A man was sitting at the wheel of a Land Rover, smoking a cigarette. Charles approached him. 'Do you know where we can find Paul Redfern's cottage?'
'Follow this road round that bend and you'll come to the cottage on your right.'
'Thanks,' said Charles. 'Do you work here?'
'I do the maintenance,' he said laconically.
'Police up at the house?'
'They were earlier but they've left.'
Charles thanked him and he and Agatha walked on. Sleety rain began to sting their faces. 'I wish we hadn't walked,' mourned Agatha. 'It's a long way back.'
'If he's a friendly chap, we'll ask him to give us a lift to the gates. So here's the bend. Tolly must have spent some good money on this estate. It's well-maintained. Ah, here's the cottage. Funny how many of these estate cottages are mock Tudor. There's smoke coming out of the chimney. Good sign.'
Charles knocked at the cottage door.
There was no reply. Night was falling fast and the rain was thicker and steadier. The wind suddenly dropped. There was no other sound but the rain pattering on the leaves of a laurel bush by the door.
'I think we've had a journey for nothing,' said Agatha.
'I hate to think we've come all this way for nothing.' Charles knocked at the door again. It slowly creaked open.
They looked at each other and then at the open doorway.
'Let's snoop,' said Charles cheerfully 'At least we'll be out of the rain.'
'I don't think ...' began Agatha, but Charles was already walking inside.
She followed him into a minuscule hall. Charles opened a door to his right. Then he closed it again. 'Don't
