Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell

finished their meal. He listened carefully while Roy described his adventures with Dewey and made several notes. When Roy had finished, Agatha said, ‘You see, we wondered if you had been digging into Dewey’s past, if there was anything there.’
    ‘Nothing sinister that we’ve been able to find,’ said Bill. ‘He’s the son of fairly wealthy middle-class parents. The father died young and he was very close to his mother. When she died, he had just finished at university. With the money she left, he bought that shop and started up in business. He really knows his stuff. He doesn’t seem to have any friends. When he married Melissa, they didn’t seem to socialize. I’ll dig a bit deeper. I’ll pull him in and have another go at him.’
    ‘Is there any news of James?’ asked Agatha.
    ‘Not a whisper. I would have told you if I had heard anything.’
    The following day dawned sunny and fresh. They set out to walk to Blockley, which meant climbing up the steep road out of Carsely, walking along the A44 and then down the hill into Blockley. When they reached the village, Agatha felt that longing for a cigarette and fought it down. She had not yet lit up one that day.
    ‘I don’t feel very brave,’ she whispered to Roy as they walked up Greenway Road. ‘He’s a very belligerent man.’
    ‘Maybe we should forget about the whole thing,’ said Roy uneasily. ‘I hear there’s some good French cooking down at the Crown. We could walk about a bit and then have lunch.’
    But his cowardice spurred Agatha on. ‘Don’t want to think we’ve walked all this way for nothing. If he’s mad at us, he can slam the door in our faces.’
    Walking close together, they approached the door of the Sheppards’ cottage. Agatha rang the bell.
    After a few moments, Megan Sheppard answered the door. She was wearing a brief pair of hot pants over a gingham blouse. Her hair was tied in two bunches with pink ribbons. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said. She called over her shoulder, ‘Luke, it’s that woman from Carsely who’s been pestering you.’
    Luke Sheppard loomed up behind her. ‘Get away from here,’ he growled.
    ‘We thought you would like to know,’ said Agatha bravely, ‘that we’re pretty sure it was Melissa’s first husband, Dewey, who killed her.’
    What was that odd look that had flashed in his eyes? wondered Roy. Relief?
    The truculence left his face. He said mildly, ‘You’d better come in and tell us about it.’
    They followed the Sheppards through the cottage and out into the garden. After they had all sat down round the garden table, Roy told them about his visit to Dewey’s shop.
    ‘You poor thing,’ said Megan, looking into his eyes. ‘You must have been frightened to death.’
    ‘I tell you,’ said Roy, delighted to have such an appreciative audience, ‘I thought my last moment had come.’
    ‘So have you told the police all this?’ asked Luke.
    ‘Yes,’ said Agatha. ‘They are going to pull him in for further questioning. Did I ask you this before? Did you know Melissa was sectioned at one time?’
    He looked genuinely surprised. ‘No. Was it drink?’
    ‘Drugs.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘A long time ago, when her father was still alive. Did you ever know her sister?’
    ‘No, Melissa didn’t have anything to do with her.’
    ‘Do you know if she had a friend from the past, someone she might have met when she was in the psychiatric unit?’
    ‘No, come to think of it, she didn’t have any real friends. I mean, she would strike up a friendship with someone but it would never last very long. People would go off her.’
    ‘Just like you, dear,’ said Megan, and stroked his hand. And yet Agatha noticed that one of Megan’s smooth tanned legs was pressed against Roy’s.
    ‘Is there anything you can think of,’ pursued Agatha, ‘any little thing that might help us find out who murdered Melissa?’
    ‘What’s this?’ The anger had returned to Luke Sheppard’s face. ‘You told us it was Dewey.’
    ‘We’re sure it is. But still –’
    ‘I think you should get a life,’ said Luke.
    ‘Don’t be hard on her, dear,’ cooed Megan. ‘Some of these old village women lead empty lives.’
    Roy cackled with laughter and then put a hand over his mouth when he saw Agatha’s furious face. But Luke went on as if she had not spoken. ‘Where do you get off, nosing around, poking around into people’s lives? Get out of here.’
    Agatha stood up, her face flaming. ‘Come