Agatha remembered that she should be asking him about Zimbabwe, and asked, “Did you have an awful time in Africa?”
“It was pretty grim. A gang charged the farmhouse. They’d already killed most of my workers. We got out the back way just in the nick of time with only what we were wearing.”
“We?” asked Agatha.
“I mean, me and my houseboy. It’s a terrible situation. Because Mugabe has driven off all the farmers, the harvests are rotting in the fields and the country is starving. Oh, that reminds me. I’m leaving tomorrow for a short break.”
Agatha’s face fell. “For how long?”
“Just a couple of weeks.”
“Let’s hope I have these cases cleared up before you get back. Where are you going? Not back to Zimbabwe, I hope.”
“No, I’m going to see, er, friends in South Africa. But I’ll see you as soon as I get back. Anyway, let’s make the most of our evening together.” His eyes looked long and steadily into hers and Agatha got the unsaid message—the night as well.
That was when a little twinge of panic assailed Agatha. She had shaved her legs the day before, but she really should have gone for a wax. The evening was humid and she nervously imagined she could feel hair sprouting through the sheerness of her black stockings. It was a while since she had found the courage to look at her naked body in a full-length mirror. Then, what if he didn’t have a condom? She didn’t have any.
But she fought down her worries. Here was the most attractive man she had come across in ages. Maybe they would get married. But if they got married and he went out to Nigeria to farm, she would need to go with him.
So she drank more than she should to drown the worries and was feeling muzzy and relaxed when she got in the car for the drive to her home.
If I’m not meant to do this, she told herself, something will happen.
“Coming in for a nightcap?” asked Agatha.
“Of course.”
He went round and opened the car door for her and helped her out. Agatha opened the door and reset the burglar alarm.
“I’ll just let my cats in from the garden,” said Agatha, suddenly nervous again. “Help yourself to a drink and make me a gin and tonic.”
Agatha let her cats in and patted them.
He appeared behind her, making her jump. “Do we really need a drink?” he asked.
Agatha turned to face him. He cradled her face in his hands and bent his head to kiss her.
And at that very moment, sharp and shrill, the doorbell rang.
“Don’t answer it,” he murmured.
The doorbell rang again. “Police! Open up!” cried a voice.
Freddy drew back, looking alarmed.
Agatha rushed to the door and opened it. Detective Inspector Wilkes stood there, flanked by Bill Wong and a policewoman.
“Come in,” said Agatha. “What’s up? Is this going to take long?”
“All night if necessary.”
Freddy, who had followed Agatha to the door, said quickly, “I’d better take myself off.”
“Who are you?” demanded Wilkes.
“A friend of Agatha’s. We’ve just had dinner. I’ll be on my way.”
“No, you don’t. You’ll stay until we get your address and what you were doing today.”
“What’s all this about?” asked Agatha as they all sat round the kitchen table.
“All in good time,” said Wilkes ponderously.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” snapped Agatha. “You’ve been watching too many cop movies. What’s happened?”
“Burt Haviland has been found murdered.”
“What! How?”
“Stabbed to death in his flat. A vicious assault. We’ll start with your friend here. Have you been helping Mrs. Raisin on her cases?”
“No,” said Freddy. “I’m just a casual friend.”
“And where do you live?”
“I’ve just come over from Zimbabwe. I’m staying with a friend in Chipping Norton at the moment.”
“Name and address?”
“Captain John Harvey, Orchard Farm. It’s on the Oxford side of Chipping Norton.”
“Married?”
“No,” said Freddy.
“And were you with Mrs. Raisin earlier today?”
“No. I picked her up for dinner at eight o’clock. We went to the Feathers restaurant in Broadway. We’d just got back when you arrived. May I go now?”
“Yes, that’ll be all right.”
Freddy threw Agatha a guilty look and hurried out.
“When was he found?” asked Agatha.
“At six o’clock.”
“And who found him?”
“We did. He dialled 999 before he died. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I was out. I wanted a quiet evening, so I switched off my mobile as well.”
“When did you last see Burt Haviland?”
“Monday.”
“What did you talk about?”
“I asked him if there was any way anyone could sneak through the fence and into the factory. He said there was a loose bit in the chain-link fence. So me and Mr. Witherspoon found it and slid through. We were heading for the office to study the lock and see if it was an easy one to pick. Mrs. Smedley had hired a firm of security guards and we were caught and sent off. That was the last time I talked to Burt and it was about the fence. You don’t suspect me, surely? I was still in the office at six o’clock, finishing up business.”
“I suspect you of withholding information.”
“That’s not true,” said Agatha hotly. “I was the one who told you about the girls’ Web site. Didn’t the neighbours see or hear anything?”
“It’s a small block of flats. They were all still out, apart from an old lady on the top floor flat who’s stone- deaf.”
“Well, I’m not withholding a damned thing and you’ve buggered up my date.”
“Not a very gallant date,” murmured Bill Wong. “Rushing off like that and leaving you to face the music.”
“Right,” said Wilkes. “We want you to report to police headquarters tomorrow at ten in the morning and we’ll take a statement. You will tell us everything you know about Burt Haviland.”
“But I already have!”
“Don’t argue. Be there.”
“When he was phoning for help, didn’t Burt say who had stabbed him?”
“No. He said, ‘I’m stabbed. Burt Haviland. Send help,’ and then the phone went dead.”
After they had left, Agatha sat feeling miserable. Another murder. She was useless as a detective and useless as a woman. Then she remembered Charles.
She phoned his number. Gustav answered the phone. Agatha asked for Charles. “He’s busy,” said Gustav rudely and put down the phone.
Agatha glanced at her watch. It was only eleven o’clock. She locked up again and got into her car. Driving carefully and hoping she would not be stopped and breathalysed, she arrived at Charles’s mansion and knocked on the door.
