Pushing Up Daisies by M. C. Beaton

Jake?”
    â€œOh, lor’, yes. I forgot to give them back. But if you’re thinking of going there, the police will be all over the place.”
    â€œThey’ll have gone by now,” said Agatha.
    â€œBut there’ll be police tape on the doors.”
    â€œNot all of the doors! Is there one at the back?”
    â€œYes, but…”
    â€œLet’s go,” said Agatha excitedly.
    â€œIf were given to sulk, I would sulk,” said Charles bitterly. “Oh, I suppose I’d better join you, if only to watch you making a fool of yourself.”
    They stopped the taxi a good bit away from the premises and then Jake led them to the back of the property by a circuitous route. He fished in his briefcase and brought out a ring of keys.
    â€œSwitch on the lights,” said Agatha.
    â€œThat’ll bring the police!” exclaimed Jake.
    â€œIf we walk about flashing torches, someone’s more likely to get suspicious,” said Agatha. “If they see all the lights blazing, they’ll think it has something to do with the work.”
    â€œWhat! With police tape on the front door?” said Charles.
    â€œI didn’t see any police tape,” snarled Agatha. She flicked a torch round the walls, located a bank of light switches and turned several on.
    â€œIs there any point in telling you that the front of the building is probably taped off?” said Charles.
    Agatha ignored him. “Lead the way, Jake. I don’t want to muck up the crime scene. If Toby had any chairs ready for delivery, where would they be?”
    â€œThrough that door on the left. That leads to the storeroom. Beyond that is the garage. If he’s got any stuff, it’ll be easy to find. He’s got his own label. Become quite famous has Toby.”
    â€œOh, Aggie,” said Charles. “Let’s get to bed. If he had become a famous furniture maker, then it stands to reason he wouldn’t need more money out of anything illegal.”
    But Agatha opened the door to the storeroom and switched on the overhead fluorescent lights.
    â€œThe last commission he had was for a set of dining chairs for the Malimbian Embassy,” said Jake. “I suppose those crates in the corner are the chairs. They’ve got Toby’s name on them.”
    â€œOkay, Jake,” said Agatha. “There’s a crowbar. Open up one of them.”
    Charles waited for Jake to protest, but Jake was in the grip of a new freedom offered by this odd woman who had offered him accommodation and a job. He no longer had to fear his father. He cheerfully seized the crowbar and prised open a side of the crate. Four chairs were wrapped and stacked.
    â€œLift out one of the chairs and slit open the upholstery,” said Agatha.
    â€œYou’re not wearing gloves. Your fingerprints will be all over the place, and you will be charged with wanton vandalism,” said Charles.
    â€œThere’s no need to slit the upholstery at the top. Maybe we can get in through the bottom,” said Jake. “I’ll fetch some carpentry tools.”
    â€œGood lad. Go to it.”
    When Jake returned, he made a little opening and poked and prodded with a chisel, but there seemed to be nothing but stuffing.
    Agatha saw the cynical, amused look on Charles’s face and suddenly realised the enormity of what she had encouraged Jake to do.
    â€œWrap it up again,” she urged. “And then we’d better wipe our fingerprints off.”
    â€œThat’s odd,” said Jake.
    â€œWhat’s odd?” demanded Agatha. “Oh, hurry up. I must have been mad.”
    â€œThe balance,” said Jake. “It seems as if one leg’s heavier than the other. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.” And as Agatha and Charles wailed, “Noooooo!” Jake seized a saw and began to saw the leg off. The leg of the chair fell to the floor, and out of it rolled what looked like gravel.
    â€œThere