Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death

surely. Good sign.’
    ‘No, it’s not. They like terrible food.’
    ‘Oh, well, where to? I’m not really hungry.’
    ‘Me neither. Let’s walk for a bit.’
    They set off in a westward direction, glancing aimlessly in shops, both wrapped in their own thoughts.
    Finally they reached the suburbs and walked along a quiet street lined with villas.
    ‘Am I seeing things?’ asked Agatha, breaking the silence. ‘Or is that Mary Owen just turning in at that gate?’
    Under the light of a street lamp a little way ahead, the tall figure certainly looked like Mary Owen.
    Agatha quickened her pace. ‘Mary!’ she called.
    The woman stopped, her hand resting on the gate, and looked back at them.
    ‘Mary!’ said Agatha again.
    ‘I am Mary’s sister,’ said the woman. ‘I am Mrs Darcy, and who are you?’
    ‘I am Agatha Raisin, and this is Roy Silver.’
    ‘I have heard of you. You’re that interfering busybody who fancies herself a detective. Good evening.’ Mrs Darcy went in and shut the gate with a clang. Agatha and Roy walked on.
    ‘Did you notice the remarkable resemblance?’ said Agatha excitedly. ‘They could be twins. Why didn’t Bill say something about it?’
    ‘So what?’
    ‘That’s how the alibi could have been established. The neighbours could have thought they were seeing Mary when in fact they were seeing Mrs Darcy.’
    ‘Wait a bit. The curtains were drawn back on the evening of the murder. They were seen dining together.’
    ‘But dinner doesn’t take all evening.’ Agatha gave a skip of excitement.
    ‘When was it you went to the spring?’
    ‘It was nearly midnight. They’re vague about the time of death, but put it somewhere earlier in the evening. Now, when you and I think about dinnertime, we think about eight o’clock or after, but a lot of people have it much earlier.’
    ‘We could ask the neighbours.’
    ‘I’ve a feeling if we did that, Mary and her sister would report us for intrusion of privacy. We’ll ask Bill tomorrow. Roy, I’d begun not to care who committed the first murder. But two! And James going ahead and investigating without me! By God, I’d like to find out who did it just to see his face.’
    ‘I’m really tired now,’ complained Roy, ‘and hungry. Look at the time, Agatha.’ He thrust his Rolex watch in front of Agatha’s eyes. ‘Eleven o’clock. A lot of the pubs are shut. We’ll be lucky to find anywhere open.’
    They trudged the long way back into the centre of Mircester. ‘The Chinese is still open.’
    ‘Oh, let’s just have a bowl of something, then,’ said Agatha.
    The restaurant was nearly empty. ‘Let’s just order one of the set meals,’ said Agatha. ‘I’m too weary to wade through the menu.’
    The food was delicious. ‘So we wandered around for nothing,’ said Roy.
    ‘Not nothing. We know now that Mary looks remarkably like her sister.’
    ‘Can I have something to drink? You’re driving.’
    ‘I thought you’d gone off alcohol.’
    ‘It’s the stress.’
    ‘You know what they say – once you start saying you need a drink, you’re in trouble.’
    ‘But that’s your favourite line, Aggie dear.’
    ‘Well, these are exceptional circumstances.’ Agatha called the waiter over and asked for the wine list. ‘We’ll get a cab home. James can drive us in the morning.’
    ‘Oho! I thought you wanted nothing to do with him.’
    ‘We’re in competition now and I want to know what he’s up to.’
    Agatha slept heavily and awoke to find it was nine in the morning. She let out a squawk of alarm and phoned James.
    ‘Yes, what is it, Agatha?’ Crisp, very crisp.
    ‘I’ve left my car in Mircester and wondered if you could give me and Roy a lift over to Mircester this morning.’
    There was a short silence and then James said curtly, ‘I’ll pick you up at ten.’
    Agatha shot upstairs, calling on Roy to wake up as she did so. She washed and made herself up with care.
    Roy and Agatha walked along to James’s cottage promptly at ten. He got in beside the wheel of his car. Roy made as if to get into the front passenger seat, but Agatha jerked him back.
    ‘Only trying to save you embarrassment, Aggie,’ muttered Roy, getting into the back seat.
    ‘So who do you think is committing these murders?’ asked James.
    ‘I favour Mary Owen.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Just a hunch.’
    ‘It’s more than that,’ said Roy eagerly. ‘We took a walk in Mircester last night and we came across that sister, Mrs Darcy.