the sound of a receiver being replaced. I hope that wasn't mad Jimmy, thought Agatha uneasily. She phoned Roy and asked for help with her computer.
'It's all right,' he said. 'Just press the undo button at the top of the page. You didn't switch off the computer, did you?'
'Yes. Does that make a difference?'
'I don't think you're going to find that file. Sorry.'
Agatha felt dismally it was a bad omen.
Chapter Eleven
Agatha checked the post in increasing frustration over the following days and had almost given up on Fran, when she received a phone call at the office.
It was Fran. She said, 'I will see you privately to protect the family from your imaginings. I do not want to see you at the office. Where do you live? I will call on you this evening.'
Agatha gave her the address and directions. They settled on the time of eight o'clock.
Plunging herself into the detective agency's cases, glad to see that Toni was once more on top form and Phil was looking his usual healthy self, Agatha tried to put the evening's appointment out of her head.
As eight o'clock approached, Agatha began to feel nervous. The phone rang, but it was Mrs Bloxby. 'I can't talk long,' said Agatha. 'I'm expecting Fran.'
'Oh, Mrs Raisin, do be careful.'
'Don't tell anyone, mind. I have a feeling I am about to make a fool of myself.'
'Do one thing for me. When you let her in, do not shut the front door entirely.'
'Why?'
'You might want to escape quickly.'
'I'll be all right.'
'Please! Do it for me!'
'All right. I promise. Now, I'd better hang up. She'll be here any minute.'
Mrs Bloxby replaced the receiver and sat looking at it. Mrs Raisin may never speak to me again, she thought. But this is something I feel I must do.
She picked up the receiver again, dialled Mircester police headquarters and asked to speak to Bill Wong.
By ten past eight, Agatha was beginning to wonder whether Fran had changed her mind. By half past eight, she was sure of it. At twenty to nine the doorbell rang. Fran stood on the step, unfurling a large golf umbrella.
'Come in,' said Agatha. 'Let me take your coat.'
Agatha left her front door very slightly ajar. 'I have only come to stop you from troubling the family further,' said Fran.
Agatha took her coat and umbrella for her. 'Sit down for a moment and I'll tell you what is troubling me,' said Agatha. In Agatha's cosy sitting room with a log fire blazing on the hearth, Fran sat on the edge of an armchair.
Looking at her, Agatha felt sure that such a weak-looking woman with her tightly curled hair and indeterminate features could not be capable of murder. But she surreptitiously switched on a tiny powerful tape recorder in her open handbag under the pretext of finding her cigarettes and decided to plunge in anyway. 'I've been thinking a lot about the murder of your mother,' said Agatha.
'Did you bring me down here to tell me that?' asked Fran. 'We all think about nothing else. I could do with a drink.'
'What'll you have?'
'Gin and tonic.'
Agatha, who longed for a drink herself, decided it would be safer not to have anything that Fran might be able to poison. She sliced lemon, dropped ice in a glass, put in a strong measure of gin and added tonic.
'There you are,' said Agatha. 'Now, where was I?'
Fran stared at her coldly over her glass. 'You were about to explain the reason for my visit. You don't seem to have told the others about asking me to come here.'
'I didn't tell anyone...yet,' lied Agatha. 'So what's the reason?'
'Well,' said Agatha, 'it's just that I think you murdered your mother.'
'You're mad! What is it, dear? The menopause? Or did you forget to take your pills today?'
'Why wouldn't you let Charles look at your mother after she had been taken up to her bedroom? You said she was asleep, but if you had taken a good look at her, you surely would have seen from her colouring that there was something seriously wrong with her. I think your mother had hemlock root in her pocket and with her last bit of strength she took it out and clutched it. I think she knew what had happened to her. You cold-bloodedly went away and waited for her to die.'
'What absolute tosh. How on earth could anyone prove that?'
Agatha was struck with one of her rare intuitive flashes of insight. 'The police have not really been looking closely at you, Fran. You're not really a countrywoman. You must have been out before the murder, searching for hemlock. Someone must have seen you. I bet the police did not search your house thoroughly. I bet you've got a little hemlock factory there, just in case you needed to get rid of anyone else. You'd have cleaned the place up after your mother's murder, but I bet once the coast was clear you went back to your old tricks. No, I haven't told anyone...yet. But as soon as you leave, I'm calling the police. You attacked me viciously when I said I was sure your mother's death was murder.' There was a brief glitter of panic in Fran's eyes. She took a strong pull of her drink. Then she said, 'lf that's all the rubbish you've got to say, I'm leaving. But I would like to use your toilet first. The police can search until doomsday, but they won't find anything because I had nothing to do with it.'
'Upstairs, on the left,' said Agatha, feeling suddenly depressed. She must have imagined seeing that flash of panic.
Fran picked up her handbag and went up the stairs. Agatha waited a minute and then followed, her feet making no sound on the thickcarpeted stairs. The bathroom door did not have a lock, because Charles on one of his visits had broken it and Agatha had not yet had it repaired. She pushed the bathroom door open a crack. Fran had a syringe in her hand and was inserting the contents into a tube of toothpaste. Agatha retreated to the sitting room, her heart beating hard. When Fran eventually returned, Agatha said, 'And how were you planning to explain how you poisoned me?'
Fran turned a muddy colour.
'I followed you upstairs. You put something in my toothpaste. I'm calling the police,' said Agatha.
Fran flew at Agatha, clawing at her neck. She seemed to have amazing strength. Agatha kicked and struggled, tearing at the hands around her neck.
Then suddenly she was free, and Bill Wong, who had rushed in, forced Fran down on to the carpet and handcuffed her.
Fran lay still and silent. Bill phoned headquarters. He turned to Agatha. 'You've put your life at risk again. What happened?'
Agatha explained. She finished by saying, 'I don't know what you'll find in that toothpaste, but I bet it's lethal.'
'It's a damn good thing Mrs Bloxby phoned me.' Agatha sank down on the sofa, her legs weak.
Then she got up again. 'I need a pee.'
'Then go in the garden or a neighbour's house,' said Bill. 'You are not to go near your bathroom until a forensic team have taken everything out of it.'
Agatha retreated to the garden. It was bucketing with rain and she felt sick and miserable. By the time she returned, Bill had lifted Fran up and thrust her into a chair.
'I had to do it,' said Fran suddenly. 'You must see that. After Father died, she was awful. She said she never
