breaking away and returning to Bill Wong.
James arrived to say he was leaving for his sister's and would stay there over Christmas. He longed to ask Agatha to go with him. After avoiding her for so long, he found he could not bear her new indifference--but he knew his sister did not approve of Agatha.
He said a reluctant goodbye, not even trying to kiss her this time, afraid of a rebuff.
Bill came up to Agatha, his eyes shining. 'Toni says she'll come to my home for Christmas dinner.' And that will be that, thought Agatha. His parents will soon see Toni off.
After the bus had left, Agatha, Roy and Charles went into the cottage. Agatha stared in dismay at the mess. The caterers had taken away the spare tables and cloths, but fake snow still lay on the floor and on the decorations.
'I thought the stuff was supposed to be biodegradable,' said Charles.
'But it is,' said Roy. 'We can vacuum it all off the floor. Where's the sitting-room furniture, Agatha?'
'It's in storage, and thankfully so are the pictures, ornaments and fiddly bits. I'll give you the vacuum, Roy. What about the stuff all over the walls and decorations?'
'That washes off.'
Both Charles and Roy were desperately thinking of ways to get out of cleaning it up, but Agatha stood over them while they groaned and worked. The minute the place was comparatively clean, both said they must rush off.
Agatha said goodbye and then collected her cats from Doris.
After all the hustle and bustle of the previous days, the cottage felt empty and lonely. 'Six days to Christmas,' said Agatha gloomily to her cats, 'and nowhere to go.'
On Christmas Day, Agatha went out for a long lonely walk. She decided to take the decorations down when she returned without waiting for Twelfth Night. So depressing to sit on one's own and stare at all the baubles. She wondered with a grim smile how Toni was surviving Christmas dinner with Bill's parents.
'This is Toni,' said Bill proudly, as his mother opened the door. Mrs Wong peered at Toni through thick glasses and wiped her red hands on her apron.
'I didn't know we were having extra company,' she said. 'Oh, well, take her into the lounge.'
Mr Wong was sitting reading a newspaper. He lowered it reluctantly when Bill introduced Toni. Bill served sweet sherry in tiny glasses. Mr Wong had the same almond-shaped eyes as Bill but the rest of him was depressed British, from his droopy moustache to his ratty cardigan and carpet slippers. He raised his newspaper again. Toni saw nothing odd in his silence.
'How clever of your mum,' she said to Bill, 'to keep the plastic covers on her three-piece suite. She'll never have to worry about getting it dirty.'
'My mother's very house-proud,' said Bill.
Then there was a long silence. Mr Wong rattled his newspaper nervously. He was used to Bill's girlfriends chattering to fill up the silence. Toni didn't bother.
'Dinner,' shouted Mrs Wong.
Mrs Wong was usually a dreadful cook. Toni was in luck. The soup was tomato out of a can. Toni loved tomato soup. This was followed by a turkey already roasted at the local supermarket. Toni ate with relish. The Wongs did not seem odd to her. If one comes from a dysfunctional family, then the unacceptable becomes acceptable.
After the dinner was over, Toni insisted on following Mrs Wong into the kitchen. Although there was a large dishwasher, every plate had to be scrubbed clean before being put into the machine. Toni talked happily about the murder case.
When it was time to leave, she flung her arms around the startled Mrs Wong, hugged her, and said, 'Thank you for a wonderful meal.'
And Mrs Wong said for the first time in her life, 'Call again.'
Agatha was just taking down branches of fake holly when her phone rang. She rushed to answer it in the hope that someone actually wanted her company.
It was Alison, her voice breaking with hysteria. 'They killed him! The villagers have killed him.'
'Calm down. Take a deep breath and speak slowly,' ordered Agatha. 'Who's been killed?'
'Jimmy. They hanged him in that room above his shop, put a black candle under him and all sorts of cabalistic drawings painted in red on the walls.'
'Have you called the police?'
'Yes.'
'I'll be right there.'
Alison met her in the hall. 'They're all in the drawing room, except Sadie. She's being interviewed by the police in the dining room. I can't take any more of this, Agatha.'
Agatha went into the drawing room. Sir Henry Field was staring out of the window. Bert was slumped in a chair, staring sightlessly ahead. Sadie came in. 'Your turn next, Alison.'
Alison sighed and got to her feet.
'It's awful,' said Sadie. 'Those villagers and their witchcraft.' She stared at Agatha. 'What are you doing here?'
'Alison sent for me.'
'She had no right to do that. You are nothing but a muckraker. Get out!'
'When Alison tells me to.'
'This is not Alison's house and I am telling you to go. God, I need a cigarette.'
Sadie bent down and unclasped her handbag. Agatha stiffened. She had caught a glimpse of an envelope in Sadie's bag, and under one of Sadie's nails was what looked like red paint.
'Who found the body?' asked Agatha.
'Sadie did,' replied Bert.
'And you are sure it was not suicide?'
'How could it be?' demanded Sadie. 'Poor Jimmy would hardly hang himself and then light a candle and paint the walls.'
'He could have done all that beforehand,' said Agatha.
'Don't be so silly. I do wish you would go away.'
'Right,' said Agatha. She got to her feet and walked out.
But she went straight to the dining room. A policeman on guard outside tried to bar her way but Agatha pushed past him. Wilkes and Bill were interviewing Alison. They looked at Agatha in surprise as she struggled to get free of the policeman's grasp.
'It's urgent,' said Agatha. 'I must speak to you now.'
'All right. But it had better be good. We'll call you back when we're ready, Mrs Tamworthy.'
Agatha said to Alison, 'Don't tell them I'm still here.'
'Now,' said Wilkes severely, 'explain yourself.'
'There is an envelope in Sadie's handbag,' said Agatha.
'So?'
'And there is what looks like red paint under one of her nails.'
Wilkes studied her for a long moment. A policewoman was sitting in a corner where she had been making notes. 'PC Gold,' said Wilkes. 'Bring Lady Field back in here and make sure she brings her handbag with her.'
Soon they could hear Sadie's voice raised in anger as she was escorted across the hall. 'This is police harassment. I shall speak to my Member of Parliament.'
The door of the dining room opened. Sadie's face turned red with anger when she saw Agatha. 'I want that woman out of my house,' she yelled.
'Sit down, Lady Field,' ordered Wilkes. 'Put your handbag on the table. Now spread out your hands.'
Sadie spread out shaking hands. 'What is that red under your fingernail?' asked Wilkes.
'Oh, that. Nail varnish. Now, if you're finished...' Then she let out a squawk of alarm as Wilkes opened her
