Agatha Raisin: As the Pig Turns

Agatha and James drove off after midnight through the sleeping village of Carsely. ‘If this hot weather goes on,’ said James, ‘there’ll be a hosepipe ban. How’s your garden?’

‘Fine,’ said Agatha defensively, thinking of her wilting plants that she kept forgetting to water.

‘We’ll need to park somewhere well outside the estate and walk,’ said James.

‘It’s pretty open ground all round,’ said Agatha.

‘There is a bit of wood and scrub at the back. As far as I remember, not all the units are fenced off. I checked it out earlier after supper.’

They drove on in silence. ‘Oh, look,’ said James as they neared the industrial estate. ‘There are clouds building up in the west.’

‘I hope there’s not going to be another storm like there was on the night Roy was kidnapped,’ said Agatha, thinking all the while, What if James is a success as a television personality? He’ll be famous. There will be beautiful women after him. Look at the way he nearly married that airhead. But does it matter any more? She felt that old obsession she once had for him was being aroused by the competitive streak in her nature. But then she remembered all the hurt and jealousy and sheer misery that obsession had brought her, and she gave a dry little sob.

James stopped the car abruptly. ‘Are you all right? Severed heads and murders are enough to shake the strongest person.’

‘I’m fine,’ said Agatha defiantly. ‘Press on.’

James took a small earthy track leading round to the back of the industrial site. He switched off the headlights and parked just inside.

The site had once been a camp for Polish refugees during the Second World War. Old people remembered when the Poles had their own shops and even a cinema. Most of the businesses were now in old Nissen huts. But Country Fashions was a large, square brick building with a staff entrance at the side and a loading bay at the back.

‘You see that mound of grass and earth over there?’ whispered James. ‘We can lie behind it and get a good look at the loading bay.’

‘It’s clouding over,’ Agatha whispered back.

‘I brought a couple of night-vision binoculars,’ said James, opening a travel bag. He handed a pair to Agatha. ‘Now, we wait.’

The night dragged on. Clouds covered the moon, and then a light rain began to fall. ‘Let’s give up,’ moaned Agatha.

‘Keep your voice down. I can hear something coming. Here comes the security guard.’

The rumble of a vehicle drew nearer. The guard opened the gates to the loading bay. A thickset man came out of the building. ‘Evening, Mr Staikov,’ said the guard.

‘That must be the son,’ whispered Agatha. ‘He’s taken over the business.’

The truck rumbled to a stop. The back doors were opened and two men jumped out. The driver and another man who had been in the front seat came to join them.

They began to unload rolls of leather from the back and carry them into the building. Then they heard Staikov say clearly, ‘Bring the paperwork into the office and I’ll sign it. I want to get to my bed. You were expected this afternoon.’

‘Bloody French,’ said one man. ‘Strike at Calais. Held us up for hours, it did.’

Agatha felt a sinking feeling of disappointment. The load should have arrived in broad daylight. Staikov was inside signing paperwork. The rain was coming down heavier.

She tried to get to her feet, but James pulled her down. ‘We can’t risk being seen. Wait until they drive off.’

To Agatha, it seemed to take ages. Her soaking hair was plastered to her head. Her clothes were drenched.

At long last, the truck drove off, the gates were closed, and James said they could move.

In the car, he turned on the heater. ‘This is awful,’ moaned Agatha.

‘It’s good for the gardens.’

‘I’m not a plant!’

Although she knew she was risking valuable business, Agatha told her assembled staff in the morning that she was closing down the agency for two weeks. She said they had been under threat for too long and it would do them all good to get a break.

There were a few grumbles that she hadn’t really given them time to make holiday arrangements, yet each of them was secretly relieved. Ever since Agatha had been sent that severed head and Roy kidnapped, they had all felt uneasy.

‘Where will you go?’ Toni asked Agatha.

‘Don’t know. I think I’d like to potter around, have tea with Mrs Bloxby, do village things.’

‘Doesn’t sound like you,’ remarked Phil.

‘Well, I’m weary of the whole business. Maybe if I just switch off from it all, something will occur to me.’

‘We have cases outstanding,’ Mrs Freedman pointed out.

‘Nothing that can’t be put on hold. Nothing really but nasty divorces. If we had an outstanding one about a missing child, then that would be different.’

Toni went to her computer and looked up a website that offered last-minute holidays. Last-minute or not, the prices seemed high. She went out to find a travel agent. The pavements were steaming under the hot sun after last night’s rain. It’s almost tropical, thought Toni. She walked to a small travel agency at the corner of the street, pushed open the door and went in.

‘Hi, Tone,’ a voice greeted her.

Toni saw Chelsea Flitter, the girl she had last seen working as a receptionist at Mixden’s detective agency. ‘What are you doing here?’ asked Toni.

‘It’s better here. You get free trips. I’m off to Las Vegas.’

‘Oh, you lucky thing!’ exclaimed Toni. ‘I’ve always wanted to play the tables, just once.’

‘Here, you could do it!’ said Chelsea excitedly. ‘I’m off tonight. It’s a holiday agency called Summerflight. They’ve got their own planes. Leaves Gatwick Airport. Only four days. You could share my room. All you’d need is the money for the ticket and I can book that now. It’ll be more fun with two of us. Come on, Tone. We may even meet a couple of millionaires.’

‘I’ll do it,’ said Toni.

‘Attagirl!’

The flight was uncomfortable at first, the computer having crammed the passengers into all the seats at the front. Anything to eat or drink had to be purchased, and they even had to put one pound in the slot to use the toilet. Fortunately, the plane was only half-full and they were able to find other seats and stretch out.

The hotel was called the Old Prairie Ranch and was on the outskirts of Las Vegas near the airport. The architecture could be described as Plastic Log Cabin. Their room opened out on to a dusty outside corridor. It had a tired look. A cockroach lurked in the shower. Toni began to wish she had not come, but nothing seemed to dim Chelsea’s enthusiasm.

‘You know, I’ve always admired you, Tone,’ she said. ‘If I went a bit easier on the war paint and brushed my hair down, we could look like sisters.’

Toni was tired and suggested they should have a few hours’ sleep before setting off into town.

They ordered hamburgers and Cokes from room service, and then both fell into a heavy sleep.

Toni was awakened by Chelsea shaking her. ‘Show a leg, girl. Time to hit the town.’

Las Vegas was exciting as their taxi deposited them at the Rio Grande Hotel and Casino. There was a hectic buzz in the air. The whole city seemed a symphony of flashing neon lights.

Toni was wearing a simple black sheath with a row of pearls around her neck. Chelsea had also put on a black dress and had toned down her make-up. At first, as they entered, Toni felt almost overdressed. Elderly men and women were crouched at the slot machines, their eyes glazed, pulling the levers.

‘I want to play roulette,’ said Toni.

But Chelsea had noticed that the people at the machines were not all old. A young man with a cowboy hat pushed back on his head winked at her. ‘You go play roulette,’ said Chelsea. ‘I’ll try my luck here.’