Simms,’ said Agatha bitterly, ‘because she thought her morals were as loose as her own. No one else in the village fills that bill.’
‘There might be someone. I mean, on the face of it, Melissa was just the perfect village housewife, apart from her fling with James. You know, Aggie, we can’t keep leaving James out of the equation.’
‘He didn’t do it!’
‘But he got involved in something that meant he was attacked and probably by the same person who killed Melissa.’
‘That might bring us back to the husbands. We never really got to talk to Mr Dewey properly.’
‘Let’s leave him alone for a bit,’ pleaded Charles. ‘Gosh, I’m tired. Mind if I stay the night?’
‘You know where the spare room is.’
‘I’ll get my bag out of the car.’
Agatha watched him go, half amused, half exasperated. In the past, Charles had sometimes moved in with her. It was always because he was bored, or because the elderly aunt who lived with him had decided to hold a charity party and he wanted to stay out of the way until it was over. She knew that if Charles was courting some girl – for he was ever hopeful of getting married – he would disappear from her life for months. The fact that he never managed to secure any sort of lasting relationship Agatha put down to his being tight with money. Then, people who were tight with money were also inclined to be tight with emotions. Not much giving, emotionally or physically.
‘What are you brooding about?’
Agatha started. She had been so immersed in her thoughts, she had not heard Charles coming back into the kitchen.
‘You,’ said Agatha.
He sat down and looked at her, amused. ‘What about me?’
‘I was wondering why you never had a permanent girlfriend.’
‘And what do you think is the reason?’
‘I think it’s because you’re mean about money. What woman is going to put up with someone who takes her out for dinner and forgets his wallet, or, in your case, pretends to forget it?’
‘What a funny woman you are. That reminds me. You owe me half of that fifty quid.’
The next morning Agatha arose late and to the smell of frying bacon. She was half-way down the stairs in her night-gown when she remembered that Charles was staying. She retreated up the stairs and quickly showered and dressed. When she went back down again, it was to find Charles eating breakfast and chatting to her cleaner, Doris Simpson.
Agatha and her cleaner were two of the few women of Carsely who called each other by their first names. ‘Hello, Agatha,’ said Doris. ‘Just about to get started. If you’re finished upstairs, I’ll begin with the bedrooms. Late night?’
Her eyes slid from Charles to Agatha.
‘A celibate late night,’ said Agatha firmly. ‘We’ve been up to London, trying to find out more about what sort of person Melissa was.’
‘I cleaned for her, you know,’ said Doris, her voice muffled as she bent down to take out more cleaning material from a kitchen cupboard.
Agatha and Charles stared at each other. ‘Sit down, Doris,’ said Agatha. ‘I didn’t know you cleaned for her. You didn’t say anything.’
Doris sat down reluctantly. ‘Didn’t like to, given the circumstances. Didn’t think you’d want to hear her name mentioned. And you’ve been looking so ill. I was right worried about you.’
‘We’re trying to establish what sort of person Melissa was,’ said Charles. ‘You see, that way we might figure out why she was murdered.’
‘I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about this,’ said Doris. ‘It was all hush-hush. But, then, she’s dead.’
Agatha and Charles looked at her eagerly. ‘What do you mean, hush-hush?’
‘She told me,’ said Doris, looking over her apron shoulder and dropping her voice to a whisper, ‘not to touch anything on her desk. She said she was working on a secret project for the government. I should’ve told the police.’
Agatha sighed. ‘The one thing we have found out about
‘There might be someone. I mean, on the face of it, Melissa was just the perfect village housewife, apart from her fling with James. You know, Aggie, we can’t keep leaving James out of the equation.’
‘He didn’t do it!’
‘But he got involved in something that meant he was attacked and probably by the same person who killed Melissa.’
‘That might bring us back to the husbands. We never really got to talk to Mr Dewey properly.’
‘Let’s leave him alone for a bit,’ pleaded Charles. ‘Gosh, I’m tired. Mind if I stay the night?’
‘You know where the spare room is.’
‘I’ll get my bag out of the car.’
Agatha watched him go, half amused, half exasperated. In the past, Charles had sometimes moved in with her. It was always because he was bored, or because the elderly aunt who lived with him had decided to hold a charity party and he wanted to stay out of the way until it was over. She knew that if Charles was courting some girl – for he was ever hopeful of getting married – he would disappear from her life for months. The fact that he never managed to secure any sort of lasting relationship Agatha put down to his being tight with money. Then, people who were tight with money were also inclined to be tight with emotions. Not much giving, emotionally or physically.
‘What are you brooding about?’
Agatha started. She had been so immersed in her thoughts, she had not heard Charles coming back into the kitchen.
‘You,’ said Agatha.
He sat down and looked at her, amused. ‘What about me?’
‘I was wondering why you never had a permanent girlfriend.’
‘And what do you think is the reason?’
‘I think it’s because you’re mean about money. What woman is going to put up with someone who takes her out for dinner and forgets his wallet, or, in your case, pretends to forget it?’
‘What a funny woman you are. That reminds me. You owe me half of that fifty quid.’
The next morning Agatha arose late and to the smell of frying bacon. She was half-way down the stairs in her night-gown when she remembered that Charles was staying. She retreated up the stairs and quickly showered and dressed. When she went back down again, it was to find Charles eating breakfast and chatting to her cleaner, Doris Simpson.
Agatha and her cleaner were two of the few women of Carsely who called each other by their first names. ‘Hello, Agatha,’ said Doris. ‘Just about to get started. If you’re finished upstairs, I’ll begin with the bedrooms. Late night?’
Her eyes slid from Charles to Agatha.
‘A celibate late night,’ said Agatha firmly. ‘We’ve been up to London, trying to find out more about what sort of person Melissa was.’
‘I cleaned for her, you know,’ said Doris, her voice muffled as she bent down to take out more cleaning material from a kitchen cupboard.
Agatha and Charles stared at each other. ‘Sit down, Doris,’ said Agatha. ‘I didn’t know you cleaned for her. You didn’t say anything.’
Doris sat down reluctantly. ‘Didn’t like to, given the circumstances. Didn’t think you’d want to hear her name mentioned. And you’ve been looking so ill. I was right worried about you.’
‘We’re trying to establish what sort of person Melissa was,’ said Charles. ‘You see, that way we might figure out why she was murdered.’
‘I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about this,’ said Doris. ‘It was all hush-hush. But, then, she’s dead.’
Agatha and Charles looked at her eagerly. ‘What do you mean, hush-hush?’
‘She told me,’ said Doris, looking over her apron shoulder and dropping her voice to a whisper, ‘not to touch anything on her desk. She said she was working on a secret project for the government. I should’ve told the police.’
Agatha sighed. ‘The one thing we have found out about
Similar Books
