Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell

gulp of his drink and went on. ‘That’s when I said, all haughty-like, that he had hurt my feelings and I was leaving. “Oh, no, you’re not,” he says, pointing the scissors at my face and standing over me. “You say you came here to learn, and learn you will.” Then two customers came in. He said to them, as pleasant and calm as anything, “Excuse us a minute,” and digging those damn scissors into my side, he ushered me into the back room. “Sit there quietly until I’m ready for you,” he said. “Call for help and I’ll kill you and say it was self-defence.” He went back into the shop and locked the door.
    ‘There was no way out. The back door was locked and there was only a little barred window. I shook with terror. And I was surrounded by all those dolls, all those little staring eyes. I was in there so long, I thought he’d gone for the night, and I was just about to risk calling out when he opened the door and, still brandishing those damn scissors, told me to go and sit down in the shop. Then he started this long lecture. Don’t ask me what it was about. I was so terrified I couldn’t take in a word. Then you came. Agatha, he’s certifiable, sweetie. Bonkers, a picnic short of a sandwich, raving. He did it, mark my words. The intensity of his rage was something awful.’
    ‘But how can we prove anything?’ wailed Agatha.
    ‘There must be something in his past. We’d best go and see that copper friend of yours. We need help.’
    ‘We’ll go tomorrow. Let’s hope Bill Wong’s on duty. You wouldn’t want to meet his parents. If you’ve finished your drink, let’s go.’
    As they walked to the car park, Roy kept casting nervous glances all around, as if expecting to see Dewey leap out at him.
    When they got back to the cottage, Agatha phoned Bill. She told him briefly what had happened and asked if they could call on him the following day, but Bill said he would come over right away.
    ‘We’d better have something to eat before he arrives,’ said Agatha. ‘Bill will have had his evening meal by now.’
    ‘I’ll fix it,’ said Roy. ‘I’m still nervous and I feel like doing something. Have you got eggs and cheese? I’ll make a cheese omelette.’
    ‘I have both. I’ll leave you to it.’
    While Roy worked in the kitchen, Agatha phoned Mrs Bloxby and apologized for having run away from the fête.
    ‘Did you catch up with Roy?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Agatha. ‘I’ll tell you about it later.’
    ‘Well, thanks again for a splendid effort. We raised a great deal of money. I told Alf we owe it all to you.’
    ‘And what did the vicar say?’ asked Agatha, who knew Alf did not like her, but craved his good opinion.
    ‘Oh, he agreed with me,’ said Mrs Bloxby, although what the vicar had actually said was, ‘God moves in mysterious ways.’
    Agatha rang off. She poured herself a stiff gin and tonic and lit a cigarette. She had just finished both when Roy called her from the kitchen. As Agatha rose out of the deep armchair in which she had been sitting, she felt a slight stiff pain in her knee joints and her chest gave a distinct wheeze. She stood, alarmed. She took a deep breath, but the wheeze had gone. She remembered that when she was in Wyckhadden she had managed to give up cigarettes. It had felt good. Then she remembered Jimmy Jessop, the police inspector in Wyckhadden who had proposed marriage to her. She remembered him as safe and decent. She could have been Mrs Jessop by now had Jimmy not found her in bed with Charles. Damn Charles. She would never, ever have gone to bed with him had not that fortuneteller told her that she would never have sex again. Now Jimmy was married. Was he happy? Maybe he was divorced.
    ‘Agatha!’ called Roy. ‘Your food’s on the table.’
    She banished thoughts of what might have been from her mind and joined Roy in the kitchen.
    ‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Roy, ‘about what we could do tomorrow.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘You said this chap Sheppard lives in Blockley, which isn’t far from here. We could drop over there tomorrow –’
    ‘Are you mad? He’d be furious.’
    ‘Ah, but if we told him we’re pretty sure it was Dewey, he might open up a bit.’
    ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ Agatha thought of that sinister pain in her joints. ‘Tell you what,’ she said. ‘I need exercise. If it’s a fine day, we could walk over.’
    ‘All right. I could do with a bit of exercise myself.’
    Bill arrived just after they had