Agatha Raisin and the Busy Body

'But they're so old,' protested Toni.

'They're fit enough to put up all those Christmas decorations each year. One of them tips John Sunday off that there's going to be a meeting about him at the vicarage. He's a snoop, so he creeps up. Either Charlie or Fred nips out as if to go to the loo, gets in the garden, Grudge Sunday is moving up to the vicarage windows, so one of them stabs him and dives back into the house.'

Simon looked excited. 'Wait a bit. Whoever it was wouldn't like to be sitting around with a bloody knife, knowing the police would be called the minute the body was found.'

'Maybe the murderer didn't expect Sunday to be found until after the confab was over,' pointed out Patrick. 'Whoever it was might not have expected Sunday to stagger up to the windows and die in front of everyone.'

'Yes, but even so. Where would the murderer hide a knife?'

'In the cistern in the toilet?' suggested Phil. 'But the police must have done a thorough search for the weapon.'

'But,' said Agatha, practically jumping up and down with excitement, 'when they were assured that no one apart from Miriam and Miss Simms had left the room, they didn't search any of us. The murderer might not have depended on that. The police were searching outside the vicarage for a weapon.'

'So we just tell the police,' said Patrick, 'and start them off on a new search.'

'I found this out,' said Agatha stubbornly. 'And I'm going to find out the rest of it. I'll get Mrs. Bloxby to go over to the vicarage with me to report on the takings from the teas. I'll go to the loo and look around and search the hall as well.'

'Who is this Miss Simms?' asked Simon. 'Are you sure she couldn't have done it?'

'Not the type. Besides, she left with Miriam and was with her the whole time.'

'You know,' said Phil uneasily, 'it was quite a time ago now. Our murderer has had plenty of opportunity to go back to the vicarage and get the knife back.'

Agatha's face fell. Then she said stubbornly, 'I'm going to try.'

'I think you should let us know the time you're going to be in the vicarage,' said Patrick, 'and we'll all park somewhere nearby so you can call us if there's any danger. Remember, the vicar left for his study and the vicar is reputed to have a violent temper.'

'And I can't imagine two oldies murdering anyone over Christmas tree lights,' said Simon.

'I can,' said Agatha defiantly. 'Those lights were the highlight of their miserable lives.'

Agatha drove back to Carsely and told her startled friend, Mrs. Bloxby, of her plan.

'But the police . . . ,' began the vicar's wife in protest.

'Sod the police. They'd descend in droves and clump around, alerting everybody. One of those villagers might have a nephew or a cousin in police headquarters for all we know.'

'Very well. I'll just get the record of the money we took at the teas to make it all look respectable.'

Penelope welcomed them effusively. 'Such a success! I do think good works give one a positive glow. Now, let's have a nice cup of tea in the garden. They say the weather is going to break, so this will be our last chance for a while to get some sunshine.'

Agatha waited impatiently until they were settled in their garden chairs and Penelope had brought out the tea tray, and then said, 'Do excuse me.'

'It's on the first landing, if you want to powder your nose,' said Penelope.

'Haven't you got one in the hall?'

'So dark. You'd be much better upstairs.'

'I'll be fine,' said Agatha, and made her escape.

The toilet off the hall was small and dark. It was old-fashioned with a high cistern and a long chain. There was a tiny window at the back which looked as if it had not been opened in ages. Beside the toilet was a small shelf of books of an improving nature--Is God in Your Life? Meetings with Jesus, and so on.

Agatha carefully removed all the books but found nothing behind them. She put them back. Then the door handle of the toilet rattled. 'Who's in there?' called Giles's voice.

'Agatha Raisin. Sorry, I'm a bit constipated.'

She stood with her heart thumping until she heard him go up the stairs. Now, where else? There was a high shelf with spare toilet rolls. She stood on the seat of the lavatory pan and began to search behind them. Nothing.

She got back down and sat down wearily on top of the lavatory. Then she studied the floor. It was covered in old green linoleum, some of it warped with damp and age. She got down on her knees and began to pull up pieces of it.

Agatha could hardly believe her eyes when she finally ripped a lump clear from one corner and found herself looking down at a kitchen knife.

She pulled out her phone and called Patrick. 'I've found the weapon. Get the police!'

There came a timid knock at the door. Penelope. 'Are you all right, Mrs. Raisin?'

Should she tell her? No.

'Badly constipated,' she shouted. 'Won't be long.'

'Oh, dear. I have some Seneca. If you slide open the door a crack I can slip it in with a glass of water.'

'I'll be all right,' roared Agatha.

What was keeping the police so long? Then to her horror she heard a voice she recognised as that of Fred Summer. 'What's going on?'

'Nothing, Mr. Summer,' she heard Penelope say. 'Mrs. Raisin is using our toilet.' Penlope raised her voice. 'All right now, Mrs. Raisin?' Agatha stood up and pulled the plug and then washed her hands at the hand basin. Then she shouted, 'The door's stuck.'

'That's all right,' came Fred's voice. 'Charlie's here with his hammer.'

'I did a silly thing,' called Agatha. 'I called the police!'

'You what?' screeched Penelope.

'You don't want your door knocked down with a hammer. I'm sure the police have lock picks.'

Giles, the vicar, joined the group outside. Then Carrie Brother. Agatha began to feel like Alice in Wonderland when she had her foot stuck up the chimney. Then Charlie Beagle shouted, 'Stand back all. I'll 'ave 'er out!'

The heavy blow of a hammer struck the door. Then Agatha heard the wail of a police siren.

Then Bill's voice. 'Put that hammer down. Are you all right, Mrs. Raisin?'

Agatha opened the door and pointed mutely to the torn linoleum and the knife. 'I haven't touched it,' she said.

'Right,' said Bill. 'Out you come. I'll seal off this door until the forensics team arrives.'

Fred Summer, Charlie Beagle and Carrie Brother had disappeared.

'Will someone please tell me what is going on in my house?' demanded Giles, his high, thin, reedy voice almost cracking with outrage.

'Mrs. Raisin has found what looks like the weapon that murdered John Sunday under the linoleum in your toilet,' said Bill. 'Now, Agatha, just come out into the garden and I'll take your initial statement.'

'You'd better send some police to bring in Charlie Beagle and Fred Summer,' said Agatha. 'Then I'll tell you.'

Bill barked orders. 'Wait here, Agatha. I've got to phone Wilkes.' He turned away and began talking rapidly into his mobile phone. Then he turned back to Agatha.

'Right! Let's have it.'

Agatha explained how she had guessed that perhaps one of the old people might have gone out to use the toilet and that the vicar's wife would not think it decent to say so.

'You'll need to get taken off to headquarters and make a full statement.' He signalled to a policewoman. 'Take Mrs. Raisin to headquarters and get a full statement from her.'

'I'll follow you in my own car,' said Agatha.

A policeman came running back. 'Can't find them,' he gasped.