was getting the brandy, I saw something. Didn’t think much of it at
the time. It seemed so impossible. I—’
But Miriam had made the mistake of talking while she was eating and a snail lodged in her throat.
Charles stared as she made frantic noises. An efficient waiter rushed up, dragged Miriam to her feet and performed the Heimlich manoeuvre. The snail shot out and landed in Charles’
lap.
Miriam thanked the waiter profusely, took a gulp of champagne and said, ‘Sorry, Charles. I think I’d better go home. Remember to give that waiter a good tip.’
Charles tried to protest but Miriam exited the dining room at a remarkable speed.
He wondered whether they had a doggy bag for turbot.
Agatha entered Toni’s little flat and looked narrowly at Sharon, who was sprawled on the sofa. Sharon was a bright, bouncy girl with large breasts, always displayed, no
matter what the weather, in low-cut tops. Her hair changed colour weekly. That evening, it was flaming red. An empty pizza box was on the table in front of her along with two crushed beer cans.
‘I thought I’d make a brief call on you to discuss the case,’ said Agatha. ‘Don’t bother leaving, Sharon. As my employee, this concerns you as well.’
‘Don’t need to leave,’ said Sharon. ‘I live here now.’
‘But Toni hasn’t got room for you!’
‘Oh, Tone doesn’t mind. Me and Tone are friends.’
‘But why did you move out of your family home?’
‘Big stinking row with me dad.’
‘Why?’
‘Caught me smoking a spliff.’
‘Sharon! The junk on the streets is dangerous.’ Agatha’s bearlike eyes bored into her. ‘Do you like your job, Sharon?’
‘Sure.’
‘No drugs and pack up your stuff and get back home. Look at this place! It’s a tip. Toni hasn’t said anything but I can see you are causing her stress.’
‘Don’t want to go home,’ wailed Sharon.
‘I pay you enough to rent a flat,’ said Agatha. ‘Come along. Out of here tonight or out of a job tomorrow.’
‘Toni!’ begged Sharon.
‘Don’t say a word,’ said Agatha. ‘Get your things – now!’
Agatha felt weary by the time she had dealt with Sharon’s parents. She did not want to fire Sharon as the girl had a natural bent when it came to detecting. She was just
getting back into her car when her phone rang. It was Charles. Agatha listened in amusement to his description of the aborted dinner, but her amusement died when he told her that Miriam was sure
she knew the identity of the murderer.
‘I’ll get over there in the morning and choke it out of her,’ said Agatha.
Miriam was lying in bed reading a literary novel. She was not enjoying it at all, but it had been nominated for the Booker Prize and Miriam only read to impress people with her
knowledge of the latest literary talent. She had phoned Penelope Timson before she had gone to bed and had told her she was sure she knew the identity of the murderer. Penelope had asked for a name
but Miriam had told her to wait and see. Now, she felt a bit silly and was sure she had imagined the whole thing.
Her doorbell rang. She waited for Natasha to answer it and then remembered the girl had said something about going up clubbing in Birmingham. Then she grinned. Probably that Raisin female.
Charles would have phoned her.
She got out of bed and put on her dressing gown and slippers and made her way down to the front door of the manor. The bell rang again. ‘I’m coming!’ she shouted.
She switched off the burglar alarm and unlocked the door and slid back the bolts. The night had turned chilly and the slush was beginning to freeze. There was no one there. She stepped outside
and looked down the drive and then to the right and left. Nothing moved in the stillness of the night.
‘Probably kids,’ she muttered. But she went back inside and picked up a powerful torch. She went out again and shone the torch round and about, in case any children were hiding in
the bushes on either side of the