Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death

brought something crashing down near her which would have struck her if she hadn’t rolled away.
    ‘But look,’ ended Agatha, ‘the horrible Boggles, a couple of pensioners I took out for the day, they knew about the affair, so surely it was generally known in the village about the goings-on between Ella Cartwright and Cummings-Browne.’
    ‘Look at it this way. Cartwright may have suspected something was going on but he could never prove it. She would deny it. Then Cummings-Browne dies, so that’s over. But you turn up asking questions, and he gets scared. That sort of man couldn’t bear the idea of his wife having an affair – no, I mean the idea of anyone else knowing . Pride does not belong exclusively to the upper classes, you know. Here’s the rest of them arrived. You’ll need to answer questions all over again.’
    Detective Chief Inspector Wilkes and Detective Sergeant Friend came in. ‘We did as you suggested and went straight to Cartwright’s house,’ said Wilkes. ‘He’s gone. Dived in the door, the wife says, grabbed a few clothes, shoved them in a bag, and off he went. Took that old car of theirs. She says she doesn’t know what’s going on. She says he was getting a bee in his bonnet about Mrs Raisin here and kept saying he would shut her mouth. Anyway, we searched the house. She said we needed a warrant but I told her I could get that, so she may as well let us save time. In the bedroom upstairs we found a stack of cash in a box, a sawn-off shotgun, and one of those giant bottles filled with change, the kind they have in bars for charity. This one was for Spastics. There was a robbery last month from the Green Man over at Twigsley. Masked man with sawn-off shotgun emptied the till and swiped the charity bottle off the bar. Looks like Cartwright did it. Ella Cartwright broke down. Her husband thought Mrs Raisin here was on to that and that was the reason she was snooping around. So much for all your theories about the cheated husband. We’ve put out a call for him but I’ll bet that car of his is found abandoned quite near. He did time over in Chelmsford in Essex ten years ago for armed robbery, and it was assumed he’d gone straight. Funny, we’d never have got on to him if this hadn’t happened. It was Ella Cartwright who told us about the prison sentence.’
    ‘But when Mr Cummings-Browne died,’ exclaimed Agatha, ‘surely you looked to see if anyone in the village had a record?’
    ‘Even then, it would have meant nothing. Before we knew it was an accident, we would have been looking for a more domestic poisoner.’
    Agatha stared at him. It was as if the blow to her head had cleared her brain. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘Vera Cummings-Browne did it. She saw the opportunity when I left my quiche at the competition. She took it home, threw it away, and substituted one of her own.’
    Wilkes gave her a pitying look. ‘That was the first thing we thought of. We checked her dustbin, her cooking utensils, every surface of her kitchen, and her drains. Nothing had been cooked in that kitchen the day before Cummings-Browne was found dead. Now, will you just describe to us what happened this evening, Mrs Raisin?’
    Wearily, Agatha went over it all again.
    At last Wilkes was finished. ‘We should be thankful to you, Mrs Raisin, for leading us to Cartwright. He might have killed you, although I suspect he only meant to beat you up.’
    ‘Thanks a lot,’ said Agatha bitterly.
    ‘On the other hand, I am sure we would have caught up with him sooner or later. You really must leave investigations to the police. Everyone has something to hide, and if you are going to go around shoving your nose into affairs which do not concern you, you are going to be hurt. Now, do you wish to be taken to hospital for an examination?’
    Agatha shook her head. She hated and feared hospitals quite illogically, for she had never been treated in one.
    ‘Very well. If we have any further questions, we will call on you tomorrow. Have you a friend who can stay the night with you?’
    Again, Agatha shook her head. She wanted to ask Bill to stay but, off duty or not, he was obviously expected to leave with his superiors. He threw her a sympathetic look as he went out.
    When they had gone, she switched on every light in the house. She felt as weak as a kitten. She turned on the television and then switched it off again, fearing that the sound would drown out the sounds of anyone creeping up on the house.