Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist

nowhere. Also we’re both assuming naïvely that he means to spend the night. He may even be back at the villa now. So how do you explain your absence?’
    ‘I’ll say I was frightened to be on my own and so I took a room here.’
    ‘Why don’t you jack the whole thing in, Aggie? It’s all a mess. Go back to Carsely. Go in for something safe like flower-arranging. Forget about Rose’s murder. If Trevor did it, he’ll probably eventually confess when he’s drunk, and you’ll have wasted all this time for nothing.’
    ‘I’ve got to find out,’ said Agatha. ‘There has to be some point to all this. It’ll keep my mind off James.’
    ‘After tonight, my sweet, your mind should be permanently off James.’
    ‘I suppose so. Did you see anything of my suspects today?’
    ‘Not a sign. I suppose Pamir will soon be looking for you again. If sheer doggedness and perseverance can find out who murdered Rose, then he’ll do it.’
    ‘I suppose it’s my vanity,’ said Agatha.
    ‘You mean the reasons you’re so hurt by James?’
    ‘No, I mean about solving the murder. James saying I had just blundered about in murder investigations and that’s how they got solved, Olivia’s jeers.’
    ‘If you must, you must. It’s late. Let’s to bed.’
    Agatha went into the bathroom, had a shower, and changed into the nightgown.
    Charles blinked at her when she emerged. ‘That nightgown makes me regret I offered you the spare bed. Go to bed, Aggie, before I change my mind.’
    Agatha climbed into bed. Her head when she laid it on the pillow swam uncomfortably. No more drink, she thought, whatever James gets up to.
    She was then aware fifteen minutes later of Charles emerging from the bathroom. She stiffened under the sheets, waiting for some approach. But he got quietly into his own bed and was soon asleep, snoring dreadfully. How could such a neat and self-contained man snore like that, thought Agatha crossly. She wearily got out of bed and seized him by the shoulders and turned him on his side.
    Then she got back into her own bed, now wide awake. She stared at the ceiling, thinking of James, trying to eradicate that bright picture of what she had seen through the apartment window in Nicosia. Then she suddenly fell fast asleep, not waking until the next morning at nine o’clock.
    Charles was pottering around the room. ‘You’d best straighten up your bed and hide in the bathroom while I order some breakfast. We’ll have it on the balcony.’
    Memories of the evening before flooded Agatha’s weary brain. But she washed and dressed and waited in the bathroom until she heard room service deliver their breakfast and leave.
    Agatha sat on the balcony and crumbled a croissant between her fingers. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said slowly, ‘that I’ll go to Nicosia after I’ve been to the villa and ask for permission to go home.’
    ‘Good idea.’
    Agatha stood up. ‘I don’t want any more breakfast. Thanks for dinner and everything, Charles. I’m sorry I called you a cheapskate.’
    ‘Wait till you get my bill for services rendered.’
    Agatha held out her hand. ‘So this is goodbye.’
    He solemnly shook her hand.
    ‘See you around the Cotswolds, Aggie.’
    Agatha drove back to the villa. She felt suddenly calm. She would see what James had to say, see how he would react. She would be dignified. She would not rant or scream.
    It was another perfect day with only the lightest of breezes.
    She took a deep breath and let herself into the villa and called, ‘James!’
    There was no reply and then she noticed that his laptop and research papers and books, which were usually piled up on the table, had all gone. She ran outside again. His car was not there. Something she had been too pent up to notice when she arrived!
    She went back in and up to his bedroom. The wardrobe door was open, showing nothing but empty hangers. And then she saw an envelope with her name on it on the pillow.
    She opened it.
    ‘Dear Agatha,’ she read. ‘My investigations have taken me off to Turkey for some time. The rent here is paid for another month. I waited for you last night, but you did not come home, so it did not take much imagination to guess where you were. Goodbye. James.’
    Agatha sat down on the bed and stared around the empty room. How on earth could James go to Turkey? All of them had been told not to leave the island.
    She should phone Pamir. In fact, she’d better phone Pamir, for sooner or later he would