Agatha Raisin and The Walkers of Dembley

with bright interest.

'Now, Sir Charles,' said Wilkes. 'Just a few questions. The dead body in your field is that of a member of a rambling group called the Dembley Walkers. We believe she was killed last Saturday, possibly around the middle of the afternoon. That was the time she intended to be walking across your land. Did you see her?'

'No.'

'Where were you last Saturday?'

'In London. I have a flat in Westminster.'

'Address?'

He gave it to them.

'Did anyone see you?'

'Gustav drove me up and my aunt, Mrs Tassy, came with us.'

'We will be having a word with both Gustav and Mrs Tassy'

'You can speak to Gustav for as long as you like. But must you speak to my aunt? She is lying down at the moment. All this has been a great shock to her.'

'Perhaps tomorrow. But we must speak to her. Tell us what you know of the Dembley Walkers.'

'Not much,' said Sir Charles. 'Here's a letter Miss Tartinck wrote to me and here's a copy of the letter I sent in return.'

They studied both. Wilkes said, 'So with such a charming invitation, why was Miss Tartinck alone, do you think?'

'Oh, I can tell you that. I took one of the girls from the ramblers out to the cinema. Citizen Kane. Jolly good film. Have you seen it?'

'Many times,' said Wilkes.

'Anyway, she said that the rest didn't like this Jessica's militant attitude and told her to go by herself.'

'So you knew she was coming?'

'Yes, but I had friends to see in London and so I decided to make myself scarce.'

'The name of these friends?'

'The Hasseltons. But I didn't get around to seeing them. It was a wet day and I decided to stay in my flat and watch television.'

'So you really have no witness to the fact that you were in London?'

'But I told you, my aunt and Gustav.'

'We would have liked a witness less close to you.'

'Meaning they would lie for me? That's a bit naughty.'

'We'll speak to you again, if we may, Sir Charles,' said Wilkes, getting to his feet.

'Must you? Don't be all night, will you?'

'Where would the murderer have found that spade?'

'I don't really know. I suggest you talk to my land agent, Mr Temple. He lives in Dembley.' Sir Charles scribbled on a piece of paper. 'That's his address and phone number.'

Wilkes took it. 'Where are these ramblers?'

'I think Gustav's put them in the ballroom.'

'Why there?' asked Wilkes curiously.

'I suppose because we hardly ever use it.'

Wilkes turned in the doorway. 'Which one of the ramblers was it you took out?'

'Nice little thing called Deborah Camden.'

Gustav was waiting outside the door. He led the way across the vast expanse of the hall, down a corridor at the end and threw open a door. The ballroom was oak-panelled like the rest of the house. In a little island of chairs, which had been unshrouded from their covers for the occasion, sat the ramblers. A great Waterford chandelier blazed overhead. In the musicians' gallery overlooking the ballroom sat one policeman, and another stood guard beside the door.

Wilkes turned to Gustav. 'I would like to question them one at a time. Is there somewhere we could use?'

Gustav hesitated and then said, 'Come with me, sir.'

He opened a door next to the ballroom. 'Used to leave cloaks here in the old days,' he said. 'Good enough?'

Wilkes looked round. There were a few hard chairs, a long mirror along one wall, and nothing else except a black and empty fireplace.

'I suppose this will do. Send Deborah Camden in first.'

'I have to attend to Sir Charles,' said Gustav. 'Get her yourself.'

'I used to dream that one day I would be rich,' said Bill Wong after Gustav had left, 'and have servants. A short experience of Gustav is enough to persuade me that robots would be preferable.'

'May as well get started instead of discussing the servant problem. Get Deborah in.'

When Deborah came in, Wilkes studied her closely. She was very pale. A shy, insignificant little thing, he thought, amazed that Sir Charles should even consider dating her.

'This is just an initial interview, Miss Camden,' he said. 'We will need you to call at the police station tomorrow, where we will take an official statement. What were you doing last Saturday afternoon?'

'I went shopping in Dembley'

'And would any of the shop assistants remember you?'

'I shouldn't think so. I was window-shopping. A teacher's pay doesn't go very far.'

'How is it you know Sir Charles?'

'I was sent out to check the right of way but I didn't want to be accused of trespass, so I called at the house. Sir Charles gave me tea, took my phone number, and then asked me out.'

'We'll return to Sir Charles in a moment. What do you know of Jessica Tartinck?'

Deborah's eyes filled with tears. 'I wish I hadn't quarrelled with her,' she said shakily.

'Was the quarrel about the right of way?'

Deborah nodded dumbly.

'It's a sad business, but try to compose yourself. Tell us what you know of Jessica's background.'

In a faltering voice, Deborah outlined what she knew. She knew Jessica had been with the anti-nuclear women protesters on Greenham Common when it had been a missile base. She had been arrested on a couple of occasions for cutting the wire. She had been vague about the posts in teaching she had held before she came to Deinbley. No, no, they hadn't been close. Jessica had been living with Jeffrey Benson but he had thrown her out.

'Why?'

'The same reason that the rest of us got angry with her. She liked finding out rights of way that quite often the landowner didn't even know he had, and then making trouble. It was exciting for a bit, but I suppose we were all getting a bit tired of her bossing us around,' said Deborah. 'I'm only speculating, of course. I wasn't there when Jessica had the row with Jeffrey'

Deborah visibly grew more at ease as the questioning continued. She said that although Jessica seemed to have annoyed them all in one way or another, she could not think of anyone actually hating Jessica enough to kill her. 'But I think I know who did,' she ended triumphantly.

'Who?' demanded Wilkes.

'Gustav, that servant. He's weird and I think he could be violent.'

'We'll be checking on him. We expect to see you at the central police headquarters in Mircester tomorrow to make a statement, Miss Camden. See the policeman at the door of the ballroom before you leave and he will give you a time to call on us. And send in Jeffrey Benson.'

Bill Wong studied Jeffrey when he entered. Something was tugging at the back of his mind. He felt the police had been interested in Jeffrey before. Jeffrey Benson was a big, powerful man with receding hair tied back in a pony-tail.

He was warned it was a preliminary interview and then asked about his relations with Jessica Tartinck.

'We were lovers,' said Jeffrey. 'I suppose you want the old-fashioned term.'

Being well aware of what the new-fashioned description would be, Wilkes pressed on.