Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden

"That's an excuse. No, it's because we're all pretty sure one of us did it."

Agatha stared at her, but Jennifer was calmly ordering chocolate cake. "What about you, Agatha?"

"May as well. If I can't smoke, I may as well have some comfort."

The waitress left with their order.

"What makes you think it's one of you?" asked Agatha.

"Just a feeling."

"Who do you think could have possibly have done it? Who's strong enough?"

"It wouldn't take much strength," said Jennifer. "Just a lot of rage and fright."

"What about Mary?"

"I think if Mary had done it, she would have broken down and told me."

"The colonel?"

"Perhaps. But what reason?"

"Daisy?"

"Too silly and weak."

"Harry?"

"Oh, here's our cake." Agatha waited impatiently until the waitress had left.

"I was asking you about Harry."

"Could be. He's got a vicious temper. He believed all that stuff about her conjuring up the spirit of his dead wife, but then Francie slipped up. She got a bit carried away with her success because Harry was a regular visitor. Francie began to embroider too much. She had Harry's wife tease him about always losing socks. Now, Harry is a sock fanatic. He buys pairs of black socks, never a colour, and has always kept them in neat pairs. So he asks the spirit, 'What about my red pair?' and the spirit answers that the red pair probably got lost in the wash. So Harry tries a few more trick questions. He reported Francie to the police as a fraud and her place was raided but they couldn't find anything. Harry made such a song and dance about it before he went to the police that someone must have tipped Francie off. He said he would kill her."

"But Harry!" Agatha conjured up a picture of Harry with his dowager's hump and his tortoise-like face.

"He's got powerful arms," said Jennifer, calmly forking cake.

"But Daisy believed in the seance."

"At first. But not any more."

"So why on earth did she send me to Francie?"

"Probably because despite her fake seances, Francie had a good reputation for cures."

"Do you think it was one of you, Jennifer?"

She shrugged. "To tell the truth, I can't really believe that--except when I think about Mary breaking up the seance, when I think we were all probably the last to see her alive, Janine that is."

"It is usually the husband," said Agatha. "I don't suppose the police will expect us to hang around Wyckhadden for much longer. I would like to get home."

"Away from your police inspector?"

"I'll probably be back to see him," said Agatha, waving to the waitress. "Shall we go?"

Agatha returned to her room and fed Scrabble and put down a bowl of water. The cat ate and then stretched and purred and curled about Agatha's legs. "I should really go home as soon as possible, Scrabble," said Agatha. "But what am I going to do with you? Cliff must be a murderer to turn you out."

There was a knock at the door. Agatha opened it. Mary stood there. "Come in," said Agatha.

"Oh, you've got a cat," said Mary. "Isn't that Francie's cat?"

"I found it wandering on the beach, half starved."

Mary closed the door and sat down.

"You spent a lot of time with Jennifer today," she said brightly.

"Yes. How's your headache?"

"Fine, thank you. These new migraine pills are great. Why were you and Jennifer away so long?"

"Surely you asked her."

She's in a bad mood and the whole room smells of depilatory. She told me to mind my own business. Now that is not like Jennifer. I hope you are not coming between us, Agatha."

"I don't get this," said Agatha. "You gave me the impression that it was Jennifer who was possessive, and yet here you are like the rejected lover accusing me of taking her away from you."

"We have a special friendship," said Mary huffily. "I was surprised, that's all. I mean, it was Jennifer who said you were a pushy sort of woman and not really our sort."

A vision of the Birmingham slum in which she had been raised loomed up in Agatha's mind. She banished it with an effort and said calmly, "I must ask Jennifer what she meant by that."

Mary gave a thin little laugh. "She probably won't remember. To tell the truth, she's been losing her short-term memory."

"Which means you just made it up. Please leave, Mary, I have to get ready for dinner."

Mary got to her feet and made her way to the door. "Do you know what I think?" she said.

"No, and I don't want to."

"I think you knew all along about Joseph from your inspector friend and only pretended to help me to humiliate me."

"That's not the sort of thing I would dream of doing," said Agatha, "but it gives me a good insight into the workings of your mind. Take a good look at the other side of the door."

I don't like her, thought Agatha. There is something badly wrong with that female. Or is there something badly wrong with Jennifer as well?

The phone rang. Agatha answered to find a slightly breathless Daisy at the other end. "Could you pop along to my room, Agatha? I need some advice. The colonel and I are going to the theatre tonight."

"Which is your room?"