Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage by MC Beaton

her to solve the case?’
    ‘No,’ said Bill hotly. ‘Not a bit of it. She is a hard-working and conscientious detective.’
    ‘Oh, really? Well, let’s return to the question of Sir Desmond’s death. His wife held the purse-strings. So how did he manage to pay out this five hundred a month, if that was
blackmail money and not some money to a young mistress, without his wife finding out?’
    ‘He had a monthly income from Lady Derrington’s family trust. It was generous, but Sir Desmond had quite an extravagant life-style in a quiet way. Hunting, for example, takes a bit
of money, not to mention the shirts from Jermyn Street and the suits from Savile Row. Lady Derrington never checked his bank account. It was overdrawn each month. That came as a surprise to
her.’
    ‘So I gather you insensitive cops put her wise to the mistress. How did Lady Derrington take it?’
    ‘Coldly. She said, “Silly old goat.”’
    ‘And who was this charmer who seduced Sir Desmond?’
    ‘A secretary from the House of Commons, secretary to an MP friend of Sir Desmond’s. We’re trying to get her. She’s on holiday in Barbados at the moment. Called Helen
Warwick. Not young. Blonde, yes, but in her forties.’
    ‘Married?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘So no blackmail there?’
    ‘We’ll need to wait and see. She is a respectable lady and might not want to feature in a divorce case. Look, I’d better talk to Agatha. Things overheard are always worse than
things said direct.’
    ‘Leave it for the moment,’ said James curtly. ‘I’ll speak to her.’
    ‘Well, don’t do any more detecting without telling me. In fact, don’t do any detecting at all.’
    Bill left and climbed into the car beside Maddie. ‘Well, did you tell that interfering pair what you thought of them?’ she asked.
    ‘I was the one that was made to feel guilty. Agatha overheard a conversation between us in the pub where you were urging me to sound them out to see what they knew and she also heard some
of your unflattering remarks.’
    ‘Serves her right.’ Maddie shrugged.
    For the first time, Bill’s mind made a separation between lust and love. For a brief moment, he wondered if he even liked Maddie, but when she crossed her legs in their sheer black
stockings, lust took over and rationalized all his feelings back into romance.
    Agatha came back into the living-room and said in a weary voice, ‘Has he gone?’
    ‘Yes, and very guilty about having hurt you, too.’ James surveyed Agatha. Her face was scrubbed free of make-up and she was wearing an old sweater and a rather baggy skirt and flat
heels. He had always considered privately that women did not need to plaster their faces with make-up, but he found himself missing the Agatha of the high heels, make-up, French perfume and
ten-denier stockings. He had not forgiven her for having made such a fool of him on the wedding day. Somewhere in his heart he knew he would never forgive her and therefore he did not want to get
romantically involved with her again, but he did not like to see her so down and crushed.
    ‘Bill has asked us to butt out, as usual,’ said James, ‘but I say, let’s go on with it. That’ll cheer you up. We’ll have an easy day and then try the next on
the list, Miss Janet Purvey.’
    ‘And have her kill herself?’
    ‘Now, Agatha. Sir Desmond would have been found out anyway and the result would have been the same. Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?’
    ‘I’ll see. I promised to go to Ancombe with the Carsely Ladies’ Society. We’re being hosted by them. They’re putting on a revue.’
    ‘Well, well, the delights of the countryside. Have fun.’
    ‘At the Ancombe Ladies’ Society? You must be joking.’
    ‘Why go?’
    ‘Mrs Bloxby expects me to go.’
    ‘Oh, in that case . . .’
    Agatha was not religious. Often she thought she did not believe in God at all. But she was superstitious and felt obscurely that divine punishment for the death of Sir Desmond