As The Pig Turns

own for a bit,’ said Charles. ‘I couldn’t get anything out of them. Has Tulloch been found?’
    ‘Wilkes told me they’re still looking for him. I don’t like it. What if that psycho decides to take revenge on one of us?’
    ‘I think he’s probably long gone,’ said Charles, stifling a yawn.
    ‘I should call the hospital,’ said Agatha, ‘and find out how Simon is getting on. I wonder if I should reemploy him.’
    ‘What! You must be mad. He was spying for Mixden.’
    ‘I know, I know. But look at it this way. Us amateurs have none of the resources of the police. What policeman would have the imagination to figure out what a man with a lot of money he had to keep hidden would do? Who else would think about his longing for a posh car?’
    ‘See what Toni thinks of the idea,’ said Charles.
    ‘I’m not going to do anything about it now. I’ve got to phone my car insurance and get a courtesy car. Shall we ask the coppers to drive us back?’
    ‘I’m sick of them,’ said Charles. ‘Let’s take a taxi.’
    At Agatha’s cottage, Charles said he would go home and maybe see her later. As she watched him drive away, Agatha felt strangely bereft and then gave herself a mental shake. Charles was like a will-o’-the-wisp, coming and going, never dependable.
    Her cleaner arrived with Agatha’s cats, who studiously ignored her and waited by the garden door to be let out. ‘You should get a cat flap,’ said Doris.
    ‘What if some intruder uses it to crawl in?’
    ‘Nobody would be that skinny enough.’
    ‘Well, they could shove a petrol bomb through it.’
    ‘They could do that through the letterbox.’
    ‘You’re a barrel of laughs this morning,’ said Agatha, and burst into tears.
    Doris looked at her in shock and then hugged her. ‘I’m getting Mrs Bloxby here right now.’
    Mrs Bloxby was shocked at Agatha’s appearance. Usually Agatha was an advertisement for the saying that the fifties were the new forties, but she was white-faced and haggard.
    After a cup of hot sweet tea laced with brandy, and two cigarettes, Agatha began to recover. ‘I’ve never seen you wearing a tracksuit before,’ said Mrs Bloxby.
    ‘Police supply from their safe house in Dover.’
    ‘I heard about it on the morning news. Of course, not much came out because of the impending court case. Tell me about it.’
    Mrs Bloxby listened in horror to Agatha’s tale.
    ‘Where is Toni?’ she asked.
    ‘Back at her flat.’
    ‘And this Tulloch is still at liberty! I’m going to Mircester to get her right away.’
    Charles arrived home to be told by his man Gustav that Penny Dunstable was in the sitting room. Penny was one of Charles’s old flames. Gustav privately thought that if he did not get Charles married off to someone suitable, then one day that Raisin female might be in residence.
    Penny rose to meet him. She was tall and rangy, with square hunting shoulders, thick brown hair and a long face. Charles remembered she had been an enthusiastic lover.
    ‘I’m done in,’ said Charles. ‘Darling Penny. Wrong day for a visit. I’m going to bed.’
    ‘Good idea,’ said Penny huskily.
    Sex, thought Charles. Lots of it. Just what the doctor ordered. Then a vision of Agatha’s sad white face watching him as he left rose before his eyes. Damn Agatha.
    ‘Sorry, darling,’ he said. ‘I’m knackered. Another time.’
    He walked away quickly. Gustav started to follow him up the stairs. Charles swung round. ‘I can put myself to bed, thank you. You invited her, didn’t you?’
    ‘I met Miss Dunstable at the farmer’s market and thought you would be glad to see her.’
    ‘Not now,’ said Charles. ‘Give her a drink and get rid of her.’
    Toni answered the door to Mrs Bloxby and meekly accepted an invitation to stay at the rectory. Mrs Bloxby helped her pack. ‘I’m supposed to get a call from Victim Support,’ said Toni.
    ‘Did you give the police your mobile phone number as well?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then they’ll be able to find you. Before you leave, wouldn’t you much rather be with your mother?’
    ‘She did call, but she’s just got a new job. I told her I would be all right and that I might see her at the weekend.’
    When they got into Mrs Bloxby’s ancient Morris Minor, the vicar’s wife looked in the rearview mirror before she drove off. If only the police would come through with the news that Tulloch had been found.
    She heaved a sigh of relief when she finally turned down into the