Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden

"I am upset and uneasy. This second murder has really frightened me. I wondered if I could persuade you to come for a walk with me and perhaps stop somewhere for a drink? I know it's silly of me, but I feel I have to get out of the hotel and I am frightened to go on my own."

He rose gallantly to his feet. "I'll tell the others."

"Do you mind if we don't? I don't feel like a crowd. You are such a sensible gentleman. I feel if I could talk to you about things, I would not feel so frightened."

"Of course. Shall we get our coats? It's cold out."

When they emerged from the hotel, they blinked in the glare of television lights and flashlights. "We have nothing to say," said the colonel firmly, taking Agatha's arm and shouldering his way through the pack. "No, really. This is harassment."

Agatha prayed that some more enterprising reporter would not break away from the pack and follow them. But the press too often hunted together, which is why a lot of them often missed out on stories, and they were left in peace.

A thin veil of cloud was covering the moon and the air felt damp. "Rain coming," said the colonel.

"The weather has been very changeable," said Agatha, thinking two brutal murders have been committed and here we are, talking about the weather.

"I've been thinking," began the colonel.

"Yes?" said Agatha eagerly.

"That last Scrabble game, Harry put down 'damn'. Now I pointed out we weren't allowed any swear words and if you remember he became quite angry, so I let it go."

"It's a verb," said Agatha crossly, "as in damn with faint praise."

The colonel's face cleared. "How clever of you. I shall apologize to Harry."

It was James Lacey who had quoted that once, thought Agatha bleakly.

"I think we should go to the Metropol for a drink," said the colonel. "It's rather a flashy sort of modern place, but the cocktail bar is suitable for ladies."

The Metropol catered for the smarter, flashier, more painted geriatric. Women's faces grouted with layers of foundation cream. Face-lifts were still rare in England.

"I like trying new cocktails," said the colonel, studying a card on the small plastic table. "There's one here, the Wyckhadden Slammer. Let's try two of those." He signalled to the cocktail waitress, a large elderly woman with a truculent face, and ordered the drinks. When they arrived, they turned out to be bright blue in colour with a great deal of fruit and with little umbrellas sticking out of the top.

"I wanted to talk about the murders," began Agatha.

"Now why does a pretty lady like you want to talk about nasty things like that?" said the colonel roguishly. "This is quite good." He sipped his cocktail. "Wonder how they get that blue colour?"

"I keep wondering who did it?"

"Oh, I'd leave that to the police. They may seem to be plodding but they are very thorough. They'll get there."

"Have you no curiosity about the murders?"

The colonel took another sip of his blue drink. "Not really. You see, I'm pretty sure it was the husband."

Agatha decided to try another tack. "Have you and the other residents known each other long?"

"Years, I suppose. We all used to come here on holiday and then, as we retired, we decided to stay."

"It's an expensive hotel."

"Mr. Martin is only too keen to give us special rates. Can't get people in the winter. Then there's all those silly people who go abroad for their holidays now. Why?"

"Sunshine?"

"Pah, all that does is cause skin cancer. The British skin was never meant to be exposed to the sun."

"Did your wife come here with you?"

"Gudren enjoyed it here, yes. When I was in military service we travelled a lot, but we always tried to get here when I was on leave."

"Don't any of you stay with your families?"

"I have a son. I stay with him at Christmas. Daisy goes to her sister then, Harry to his daughter, and--let me see--I think Jennifer and Mary stay on."

"Do you ever quarrel? I mean, spending so much time together, year in and year out."

"Quarrel? I don't think we have anything to quarrel about." The colonel looked genuinely puzzled.

Agatha gave a little sigh. She was not going to get anything else out of the colonel. She would need to try one of the others. She refused his offer of another drink and said she was feeling tired. They walked back to the hotel.

"Press have given up for the night," said the colonel cheerfully.

"Let's hope some big story breaks and takes them somewhere else," said Agatha. "Oh, there's Jimmy." The tall figure of the inspector could be seen standing on the hotel steps.

"I'll leave you to it," said the colonel.

"Agatha," said Jimmy with a shy smile. "I was hoping to have a word with you. The others are playing Scrabble in the lounge. Let's go to our pub."

Our pub, thought Agatha cheerfully. I can't wait to try that love potion on James Lacey.

"Now, what's happening?" asked Agatha when they were seated over drinks.

Jimmy sighed. "We're going to have to release the husband. We haven't anything on him."