Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage

Derrington,’ said Agatha eagerly. ‘Miss Purvey said she was going to do some detecting. What if she knew something about the Derringtons?’
    ‘Or,’ said Mrs Comfort, ‘it could have been that woman Derrington was having an affair with.’
    They both looked at her in surprise. Then James said slowly, ‘We never thought of her.’
    Mrs Comfort suddenly stood up. ‘Well, if that’s all . . .?’
    They got to their feet as well, thanked her for her hospitality, put their glasses on the horrible bar, and left.
    Mrs Comfort watched them go, watched them get into James’s car, watched them drive off. Then she picked up the phone.
    Maddie was seated that evening at the Wongs’ family dining table and wondering how soon she could escape. That Bill was immensely fond of his parents was transparently easy to see. But Maddie wondered why. Mrs Wong was a massive, discontented Gloucestershire woman and his father a morose Hong Kong Chinese. The food was frightful: microwaved steak and kidney pie with potatoes made from that dehydrated stuff that comes in a packet – just add water – and tinned green peas of the type that ooze a lake of green dye all over the plate. The wine was a sweet Sauternes.
    Maddie was beginning to think that Bill Wong was not worth all this effort. He was reckoned to be one of the brightest detectives on the force. Maddie was ambitious. She had thought that if she courted Bill, had an affair with Bill, kept close to Bill, then she could pick his brain, maybe solve the case, and get the kudos. But the murder case was still plodding its way through reams of slow, painstaking investigation, and there didn’t seem to be a break anywhere, nor did Bill appear to have been struck by any bright ideas.
    She suddenly realized that Mrs Wong was addressing her. ‘Our Bill likes his food,’ said Mrs Wong, ‘so you see he gets it.’
    ‘The police canteen looks after his needs,’ said Maddie.
    ‘Mother means when you two are married,’ said Mr Wong.
    Maddie was tough, Maddie was selfish and Maddie was strong, but at those words she felt a stab of panic. Of course she should have realized what an invitation to dinner in the Wong family home would mean.
    ‘We are not getting married,’ she said firmly.
    ‘I haven’t even asked her yet,’ said Bill with an uneasy laugh.
    ‘Not that we think you’re old enough to get married,’ Mrs Wong ploughed on. ‘You young people are always rushing into things. Course, as me and Dad were saying the other day, grandchildren would be nice. I always wanted a little girl,’ she said to Maddie, who was now staring at her plate in fixed embarrassment.
    Maddie was then interrogated about her parents, her brother and sister, where they all lived, and whether she intended to remain in her job after she was married to Bill.
    ‘Look,’ said Maddie, her own voice sounding shrill in her ears, ‘there’s been a misunderstanding. I am not going to marry Bill or anyone else at the moment. Now can we change the subject?’
    Mr Wong looked insulted and Bill, miserable. He could not in his heart blame his parents, for had he not told them that Maddie was the only girl for him? But Bill could never find it in his heart to blame his parents for anything.
    Maddie was only grateful that she had driven herself to Bill’s home. She pleaded a headache directly after dinner and then Bill walked her out to her car.
    ‘You shouldn’t have given them the impression we were to be married,’ said Maddie harshly.
    Bill looked embarrassed. ‘Well, they are apt to look at every girl I bring home as a possible daughter-in-law. Don’t let it spoil things, Maddie.’
    ‘Goodnight.’
    ‘When will I see you again?’
    ‘At police headquarters tomorrow.’
    ‘You know what I mean.’
    ‘I’m going to be awfully busy in my spare time.’ Maddie slid neatly into the driving seat, closed the door on Bill’s protest and drove off, without, his policeman’s mind noticed, putting her seat-belt on.
    He stood there feeling lost. He thought of Agatha and wished she were back in her own cottage, without James. He suddenly wanted to talk to Agatha. She wasn’t married to James. Perhaps he could get her to come to the pub with him.
    James looked surprised when Bill Wong, with the air of a schoolboy asking if a mate could come out and play, requested to see Agatha for a private conversation.
    Agatha appeared in the doorway as well. ‘Come in,’ said James. ‘I’ll go out for a walk