Agatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryham

suddenly they were out into a clear starry night.
    ‘Amazing,’ muttered Charles, accelerating.
    At last they reached Fryfam and turned into Pucks Lane. ‘A large brandy, I think, is called for,’ said Charles, parking alongside the hedge. Agatha fished in her handbag for the enormous door key.
    She stopped short on the threshold. ‘Charles,’ she said, ‘the door’s open. Did we leave it like that?’
    ‘Of course not. Don’t go in, Aggie. There may be someone still there. I said don’t go –’
    But with a cry of ‘My cats!’ Agatha went straight inside.
    Then Charles heard a scream of dismay from Agatha and darted in after her. She was standing in the sitting-room. Everything had been turned over. The drawers in the desk were hanging open. ‘Hodge and Boswell?’ asked Agatha through white lips.
    ‘Wait here. I’ll look upstairs.’
    Charles went upstairs and into both bedrooms. Someone had gone through everything.
    He came back down. ‘I’m phoning the police. Where you going?’
    ‘To look for the cats.’
    Agatha went into the kitchen. Cupboards opened, drawers opened. What had they been searching for?
    She went down the garden, calling desperately for her cats. But there was no welcome glint of green eyes in the darkness.
    Agatha searched and searched, until Charles came up behind her. ‘The police are here, Aggie. I’m sure the cats are all right. They’re great survivors. Come in out of the cold.’
    ‘I should never have left them.’ Agatha began to sob.
    ‘Here, now.’ He put an arm round her. ‘Where’s my brave Aggie? It’s only old Framp. The heavy mob will be along shortly.’
    He coaxed her into the sitting-room, where Framp was standing in front of the fireplace.
    ‘Just a few preliminary questions,’ said Framp, opening his notebook.
    ‘Sit down,’ said Charles, pressing Agatha down on to the sofa. ‘Wait a moment and I’ll answer all your questions. She’s in no fit state. I’ll get her a brandy.’ Charles went over to the cupboard where Agatha kept the drinks, pulled out a brandy bottle and poured her a stiff measure. ‘I don’t suppose you drink on duty,’ he said to Framp.
    ‘It’s a cold night, sir, and a beer wouldn’t go amiss.’
    ‘We haven’t got beer. Here, Aggie. You drink that. We’ve got whisky, gin, vodka, and a bottle of elderberry wine.’
    ‘I wouldn’t mind a whisky, sir.’
    ‘Right you are. Soda?’
    ‘No, just straight.’
    Charles gave Framp a glass of whisky and poured himself a brandy. ‘Sit down,’ he said to Framp. ‘It’s going to be a long night.’
    After half an hour, Hand and Carey arrived. ‘You’re lucky,’ said Hand. ‘They got us when we were out on another case not far away.’ Framp deftly slid his glass behind the television set.
    Charles answered all the questions over again. Again he simply said they had been shopping in Norwich and had been late arriving home because of the fog. No, he didn’t know what anyone could possibly be looking for, or who could have got in without forcing the door. Agatha was roused to go upstairs with Carey to see if all her jewellery was still there. She moved like an automaton, fretting all the while about her lost cats. Then she returned to the sitting-room with Carey.
    ‘Nothing missing, sir,’ said Carey.
    ‘We’ll have the fingerprint boys along soon,’ said Hand with a sigh. ‘Now, you,’ he said to Agatha. ‘Have you been going in for any detecting?’
    Charles threw Agatha a warning look. ‘No,’ lied Agatha. ‘What about my cats?’
    ‘I’m sure they are somewhere about.’
    But Agatha was sure they were dead. She should never have brought them here. She should never have run away from Carsely. She promised God she would do anything if only those cats came back. A forensic team arrived and dusted the place for fingerprints. Despite her misery about her cats, Agatha could not help comparing Fryfam to Carsely. Had this happened in Carsely, all the villagers would have gathered to offer sympathy and support. But the fairy-believers of Fryfam stayed in their burrows like hobbits.
    By three in the morning, police and forensics packed up and left. Agatha and Charles sat side by side on the sofa. Agatha shivered. ‘It’s so cold,’ she said.
    ‘Tell you what,’ said Charles. ‘You stay there for a bit and I’ll light this fire and get us warm and then I’ll light the fires in the bedrooms.’
    Agatha watched dully as he put fire-lighters, paper and