Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell

any money,’ said Agatha. ‘I wonder if James found out about Melissa and dumped her because she was dangerous. I wonder if she told Megan that in the hope that Megan would make life a misery for James.’
    ‘Unless we find James Lacey, we’ll never know,’ said Bill. ‘Now, let’s begin.’
    They both made statements and Bill disappeared with the papers, leaving them alone. ‘I can’t bear this,’ said Agatha to Charles. ‘When she pointed that pistol at me, I wet myself.’
    ‘If they keep us here much longer,’ said Charles, ‘you’ll soon be dry.’
    ‘Doesn’t it disgust you?’
    ‘No, ordinary human functions do not disgust me. Stick it out now. Can’t be much longer.’
    But Bill returned with Wilkes, who said he would like to go over their statements again. Agatha was too weary to do other than repeat everything she had told Bill, but Charles was sure that Wilkes really wanted to know how they had managed to figure out it was Megan when the police had not.
    It all seemed like a dream, thought Agatha, as she and Charles went through their investigations once more, step by step. At last the statements were approved. They signed and were told they were free to go.
    Agatha regained some of her usual spirit. As they were leaving the room, she turned and said to Wilkes, ‘You might at least say thank you.’
    ‘For what?’ said Wilkes, shuffling the statement papers.
    ‘For solving your case for you.’
    ‘We would have got there sooner or later,’ began Wilkes pompously.
    ‘Pah,’ said Agatha Raisin and slammed the door behind her.
    Oh, the luxury of a warm soapy bath and dirty clothes spinning in the washing machine. Wrapped in their dressing-gowns, Agatha and Charles met in the sitting-room for a nightcap.
    ‘That’s over at last,’ sighed Agatha.
    ‘Except for James,’ said Charles. ‘Fancy a trip to France?’
    ‘I feel too weary to even think about it,’ said Agatha. ‘How could James behave so irresponsibly?’
    ‘He didn’t know Melissa had been murdered.’
    ‘He must have done. It was in the newspapers, along with his photograph.’
    ‘He may not have looked at the newspapers. Say you find him, Aggie? What then?’
    ‘I want to hear his side of the story,’ said Agatha, but the fact was she wanted to give him a piece of her mind. The oh-so-perfect James, who had always been picking on her, had made one big major mistake for which he ought to be deeply ashamed for the rest of his life.
    ‘I suppose we’ll have to hang around for a few days,’ said Charles. ‘In case they want to speak to us again.’
    ‘I suppose,’ echoed Agatha sleepily. ‘I’m off to bed.’
    ‘Alone?’
    ‘Alone. I don’t care now if I never have sex again. I don’t want any more casual sex.’
    ‘Who said it was casual?’ remarked Charles, but Agatha had already left the room and did not hear him.
    Mrs Bloxby was their first visitor the next morning. ‘It was Mrs Allan who really put me on the track,’ said Agatha, ‘and that remark you once made about women marrying the same sort over again. I thought, why shouldn’t a man marry the same kind as well?’ She told her all about Mrs Green’s having seen a child on the night Melissa had been killed. ‘Megan must have parked the motorbike outside the village,’ said Agatha, ‘put the vacuum and the hammer in that rucksack and headed for Melissa’s.’
    She went on and told her everything and how Megan had threatened to shoot them. ‘She must have known as little about guns as I do,’ said Agatha. ‘I wouldn’t have noticed whether the safety catch on a gun was on or off. I wonder where she got it.’
    ‘Well, now you can leave all those details to the police,’ said Mrs Bloxby. ‘Any news of James?’
    Agatha shook her head. She flashed a warning look at Charles to stay quiet. She had a superstitious feeling that if she told Mrs Bloxby about the possibility of Charles’s being in the monastery then he would turn out not to be there at all. It was such a slim chance.
    After Mrs Bloxby had gone, Charles said he would return home and join her again when she planned to set off for France. ‘Leave it a week,’ said Agatha. ‘Everything will be properly wrapped up by then. I’m surprised the press haven’t been hammering at the door.’
    ‘Oh, Wilkes will just have said a woman is helping them with their inquiries,’ said Charles. ‘He’ll want to keep us out of it. Make it look like all his own work. Do you