Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist

and went in.
    She was just making herself a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. This time she did not expect to see James standing on the doorstep and it was with genuine gratitude and relief that she welcomed the vicar’s wife, Mrs Bloxby.
    ‘I heard the terrible news,’ said Mrs Bloxby, pushing a strand of grey hair behind her ear. ‘I came along to spend the night with you. You won’t want to be alone.’
    Agatha looked at her with affection, remembering nights before when Mrs Bloxby had volunteered to keep her company. ‘I think I’ll be all right,’ she said, ‘but I’d be grateful if you would stay for a bit.’
    Mrs Bloxby followed her into the kitchen and sat down. ‘Mrs Darry phoned me with the news. If you look out, you’ll see lights all over the village. They’ll be talking about it all night.’
    ‘Tell me about this water business,’ said Agatha, handing her a mug of coffee. ‘I assume they were asked to make a decision on the water.’
    ‘Yes, indeed, and some very noisy debates they had on the subject, too.’
    ‘Who owns the water?’
    ‘Well, it comes from Mrs Toynbee’s garden, but as the well is out on the road, that bit belongs to the parish. There are seven members of the parish council and they’ve all served for years.’
    ‘What about council elections?’
    ‘Oh, those come and go but nobody else wanted the job and so nobody ever stands against them. The late Mr Struthers was chairman, Mr Andy Stiggs is vice chairman, and the rest – Miss Mary Owen, Mrs Jane Cutler, Mr Bill Allen, Mr Fred Shaw, and Miss Angela Buckley. Mr Struthers was a retired banker. Mr Stiggs is a retired shopkeeper, Miss Mary Owen, independently wealthy. Mrs Jane Cutler, also wealthy, is a widow, Mr Bill Allen runs the garden centre, Mr Fred Shaw is the local electrician and Miss Angela Buckley is a farmer’s daughter.’
    ‘And who was for selling the water and who against?’
    ‘As far as I remember, Mrs Cutler, Fred Shaw and Angela Buckley were for it, and Mary Owen, Bill Allen and Andy Stiggs, against. The chairman had the casting vote and as far as I know he had not yet made up his mind.’
    ‘It could be that one of the fors or one of the againsts could have known which way he was going to vote and didn’t like it,’ said Agatha, her bearlike eyes gleaming under the heavy fringe of her brown hair.
    ‘I shouldn’t really think so. They are all quite elderly, except Miss Buckley, who is in her forties. They have all led unblemished lives.’
    ‘But this seems to have stirred them all up.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Bloxby reluctantly. ‘The debates have been hot and furious. And of course the villagers themselves are split into two camps. Mary Owen claims the villagers have not been consulted and she is holding a meeting in the village hall. I think it was due to take place next week but I am sure it will be put off in view of this murder.’
    ‘If it does turn out to be murder,’ said Agatha slowly. ‘I mean, he was old and he was lying face-up. He could have had a seizure, fallen backwards and struck his head on the basin.’
    ‘Let’s hope that is the case. If not, the press will arrive and television crews will arrive and it is so beautiful here that we will have to suffer from more tourists than usual.’
    ‘I’m a bit of a tourist myself,’ said Agatha huffily. ‘I don’t really belong here. It drives me mad when people in the village complain about those terrible tourists when they’ve just come back from a holiday abroad where they’ve been tourists themselves.’
    ‘That’s not quite true,’ said the vicar’s wife gently. ‘Carsely people do not like leaving Carsely.’
    ‘I don’t care. They go into Evesham and Moreton to do their shopping, so they are taking up someone else’s bit of space. The world is one planet full of tourists.’
    ‘Or displaced people. Think of Bosnia.’
    ‘Bugger Bosnia,’ said Agatha with all the venom of one who has been made to feel guilty. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I must be a bit upset.’
    ‘I am sure you are. It must have been a shocking experience.’
    And it had been, thought Agatha. Some women such as herself were cursed with the same machismo as men. Her first thought had been to say, ‘Oh, it was all right. I’m used to dead bodies, you know.’ But Agatha had been afraid of so many things during her life that she had gone through the world with her fists swinging until the gentle life of Carsely and the