Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell

dinner.’
    ‘Bill!’ shouted Agatha.
    Bill appeared behind his mother, who was blocking them off on the doorstep. ‘What is it, Agatha?’ he asked.
    ‘We’ve found the murderer.’
    ‘You’d better come in. Do stand aside, Ma.’
    Mrs Wong backed off, mumbling under her breath. Bill led them out into the garden. ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘Tell me about it.’
    Agatha took a deep breath and began to explain about how Mrs Green thought she had seen a child on the night of the murder, about how the description of the ‘child’ fitted with the description of Megan Sheppard.
    ‘But why?’ asked Bill.
    ‘Wait a minute,’ said Agatha, screwing up her face in concentration. ‘Something’s coming. What about this? James was inquiring if there was a possibility of one psychopath befriending another. What if Melissa and Megan met in that psychiatric unit years ago, when Megan was sectioned. What if they did become friends, and then maybe lost touch. What if . . .’ She screwed up her face even harder. ‘What if there was an earlier will? What if Melissa had originally left her money to Megan? What if Melissa thought that Megan was dangerous? By coincidence or by plot, Megan marries her ex. Damn, we should have asked her lawyer if she had made a previous will. Anyway, somehow Megan finds out that Melissa has changed her will and blames James’s influence and attacks him. Then she goes on to murder Melissa.’
    Bill put his head in his hands. ‘Agatha, Agatha. A lot of police work and time went in checking out the Sheppards’ alibi. Their car was in the hotel garage all night.’
    ‘Oh. Wait a bit. What sort of car?’
    ‘A Range Rover.’
    ‘You could get a motorbike in the back of one of those.’
    ‘Agatha, all vehicles that went out of the hotel garage that night were checked.’
    ‘But they wouldn’t need to leave a motorbike in the car. They could leave it at the station or in Saint Giles. Oh, Bill, if they had a motorbike, or a scooter, it might be registered to one of them. Please, Bill, do try.’
    ‘I’ll see what I can do. Wait here.’
    ‘The more we discuss it, the thinner it gets,’ mourned Charles.
    Bill came back. ‘They’ll get back to me. We have to wait.’
    ‘You see,’ said Agatha earnestly, ‘she could have slipped out of the hotel when no one was looking. I know Mrs Green’s got bad eyesight, but she could pass for a child and no one would think of reporting seeing a young teenager.’
    ‘Dinner’s ready,’ called Mrs Wong.
    ‘You’ll need to put mine in the oven,’ Bill called back. ‘Important police business.’
    Mrs Wong appeared in the garden, holding a ladle like a weapon. ‘It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is, bothering people on a Sunday.’
    His mother retreated. ‘You can check the records at the hospital,’ said Agatha. ‘If she was there at the same time as Melissa, it’s something to go on.’
    ‘It still won’t make her a murderess.’
    Agatha sighed. And then the phone rang. Bill ran into the house, calling out, ‘I’ll get that.’
    ‘If Mrs Wong answers the phone first and that’s the police, she’ll give them a long harangue about Sunday dinner,’ said Agatha gloomily.
    ‘It just might not have anything to do with Megan at all,’ said Charles quietly. ‘Don’t build up your hopes.’
    Bill came back and his eyes were gleaming. ‘What?’ asked Agatha eagerly.
    ‘You’re a witch! There’s a motorbike registered to Megan Sheppard. I wonder if they still have it.’
    ‘The shed,’ said Charles. ‘They have a shed at the bottom of the garden.’
    ‘I’ll need to go into the office,’ said Bill. ‘I hope they haven’t got rid of that motorbike. I wish you had come straight to me in the first place. She may have fled. Go home and wait. Yes, Agatha. It’s out of your hands now.’
    So Agatha and Charles waited. The long afternoon dragged on into evening and Agatha’s phone remained silent.
    They ate a silent meal, waiting, always waiting. Then, just before nine o’clock, the doorbell rang.
    ‘At last!’ cried Agatha, leaping to her feet.
    She rushed and opened the door. Megan Sheppard stood there, the outside light over the door gleaming on a small but efficient pistol she was holding in her hand. ‘Back into the house slowly,’ she said.
    Numb with shock, Agatha did as she was told. Charles came out of the kitchen and stood staring at the pair of them.
    Megan waved the gun in the direction of the sitting-room.