Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell

of carpet slippers. ‘May we speak to Bill?’ asked Agatha. ‘It’s very important.’
    ‘You should’ve phoned first to make an appointment.’ He stood in the doorway with his wife at his side and neither of them showed any signs of moving. How could Bill ever hope to get married, thought Agatha, living as he did with these possessive parents?
    She suddenly shouted, ‘Bill!’ at the top of her voice, and was relieved to hear his answering voice, ‘Agatha?’
    Reluctantly his parents backed away from the doorway and then Bill stood there, beaming. ‘Come in, come in. Perhaps we could all have some tea, Ma?’
    ‘I’m not making tea for nobody,’ grumbled his mother.
    ‘Can we go into the garden, maybe?’ suggested Agatha. ‘We’ve got some news that might interest you.’
    ‘Sure.’ Bill led the way through the house into the garden at the back, which was his pride and joy. They sat down at a garden table surrounded by a riot of flowers.
    ‘What have you got for me?’
    Agatha described John Dewey and then related the story of his marriage, ending up with asking, ‘Did he have an alibi?’
    ‘There are witnesses to testify that he was working late in his shop the night Melissa was killed, and that Neighbourhood Watch woman saw him returning home around midnight. Of course, we can’t pin-point the exact time of death. He could easily have driven over to Carsely. We’ll keep an eye on him. Anything else?’
    Agatha told him about the visit to the disco, about learning that Melissa at one time had been sectioned for a drug addiction and diagnosed as a psychopath. Then she said, ‘Of course, there is the other husband, Sheppard.’
    ‘But Luke Sheppard and his wife spent that night at the Randolph in Oxford.’
    ‘Still, that’s not far. He could have driven to Carsely, done the deed, and driven back. It takes about three quarters of an hour to get to Oxford. Half an hour if someone broke the speed limit.’
    ‘We checked. The night staff didn’t see him leave.’
    ‘It’s impossible,’ groaned Agatha. ‘It could well be someone from way back in her past. She told my cleaner she was engaged on secret work for the government. Now I know that’s another of her lies, but what prompted that lie? Could she have been tied up with some MP or army man?’
    ‘Like James?’ suggested Bill, and then regretted saying it as a haunted look appeared in Agatha’s eyes.
    ‘Is there no word of him, Bill?’
    ‘Not a thing. We regularly check to see if he’s drawn any money, but there’s nothing. Look, why don’t you stay here and relax and then we’ll all have dinner.’
    Agatha repressed a shudder. His mother was a dreadful cook and his parents would grumble about their presence all through the meal. She was always amazed that Bill could not see how awful they were, but he obviously adored his father and mother and could see no fault in them. ‘No, thanks,’ she said. ‘We’d better get on.’
    ‘Thanks anyway for your news. We may pull in Dewey for questioning again. If he could tie her up like that and threaten to take her eyes out, then he could easily have killed her.’
    ‘Where to now?’ asked Charles. ‘Call it a day and go for dinner?’
    ‘I’m tired. But we could just catch Luke Sheppard again before he closes his shop.’
    ‘And what can we ask him we haven’t asked him already?’
    ‘We could tell him about Dewey. I mean, ask if he’d ever met Dewey. Ask him whether Dewey ever called on Melissa.’
    ‘All right,’ said Charles amiably. ‘We’ll give it a try.’
    Agatha looked at him with a sudden burst of affection. ‘I don’t know what I would do without you, Charles!’
    His face took on a tight, closed look. Damn, thought Agatha. Rule number one. Never tell a man you need him. In a moment or two, he’ll tell me he wants to go home and pack. But to her surprise, he drove steadily and said nothing until they drove into the main car park at Mircester.
    ‘I feel our Sheppard is a bad-tempered man,’ said Charles. ‘Let’s hope he doesn’t exercise it on us.’
    ‘You could buy something,’ suggested Agatha. ‘That would put him in a good mood.’
    ‘From that shop? You must be joking.’
    ‘A thought, that’s all.’ As they walked along the street where Sheppard’s shop was situated, they saw him outside, pulling down the shutters. They quickened their step and came up to him.
    ‘Oh, it’s you two,’ he said ungraciously.
    ‘We wondered if you