Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist by M. C. Beaton Read Free Book Online Page B

said James. "I'm sure she was. Yes, she was on her back when Trevor slid her out from under the table. If that's the case, there'll have been smears of blood on the floor."
    "I think the clue to the whole thing," said Agatha eagerly, "is in the odd friendship between Olivia and her lot and Rose and her lot."
    "Tell me again how you met them."
    So Agatha told him of the sail on the yacht, how Olivia, George and Harry had hogged the small bar and had been contemptuous of the rest. Then how, when she had been swimming, she had seen Rose and George laughing together until Trevor saw them. She moved on to the scene in The Grapevine and how, underneath Rose's screeching vulgarity, there was a well-read, intelligent, shrewd mind.
    When she had finished, they heard a knock at the door. "That'll be the police," said James, getting to his feet. "I think we should have a crack at finding out who did this ourselves, Agatha, so keep your speculations to yourself." He went off before she could reply.
    He returned with Detective Inspector Nyall Pamir. He sat down at the table and surveyed Agatha with those little black eyes of his which gave nothing away.
    "Aren't your colleagues going to join you?" asked James.
    "They can wait outside," said Pamir. "This is an informal chat. I would like you both to report to the police headquarters in Lefkoca tomorrow at ten in the morning for an official interrogation."
    He folded his small fat hairy hands on the table in front of him. They looked like two small furry animals.
    "Now, Mrs. Raisin," he began, "who do you think murdered Rose Wilcox?"
    Agatha glanced at James, who frowned. "I don't know," she said. "I had really only just met all of them."
    "Explain."
    "I took a sail on a yacht, the Mary Jane ."
    "Tell me all about it."
    So once more Agatha told her story, but a bald account devoid of speculation.
    He listened carefully. "What interests me, Mrs. Raisin, although you have not said anything about it, is how this friendship arose."
    "They weren't friends," said Agatha impatiently. "Like I told you, they called me over to their table at The Grapevine, and then last night I had arranged to meet Mr. Lacey here for dinner at The Dome. Rose heard James asking for my table--he arrived first--and Rose claimed to be a friend of mine and urged him to join them."
    Those hairy hands of his were removed from the table and clasped over his rotund stomach. Pamir was wearing a double-breasted suit, shirt, collar and tie. The heat did not seem to trouble him.
    "Ah, yes, you and Mr. Lacey. You are staying here with him?"
    "Yes."
    "You are friends?"
    "Yes, we are neighbours in the same village in the Cotswolds. That's an area in the Midlands--"
    "I know," said Pamir.
    "Your English is very good," said James.
    "I was brought up in England and went to the London School of Economics. So, Mr. Lacey, you and Mrs. Raisin are neighbours. You arrived first. Mrs. Raisin joins you. Are you having, how shall I say, a liaison?"
    "No," said James. "We're friends, that's all."
    "So, Mr. Lacey, what has been happening to you since you first arrived on the island?"
    So James told him of renting the villa from Mustafa.
    "Mustafa has gone to the bad," said Pamir. His black eyes swivelled back to Agatha. "To return to your tourists. We have a lot of British residents here and I am well aware of the famous class differences. Mr. and Mrs. Debenham and their friend, Mr. Tembleton, are not of the class of Mrs. Wilcox and her husband. There is something in your story, Mrs. Raisin, which implies you were surprised by such a friendship."
    "I was," said Agatha. "Olivia--that's Mrs. Debenham--is so snobby and she despised Rose. I've been wondering about that myself. Why on earth should such an unlikely lot get together, and why were George Debenham and Rose laughing together at Turtle Beach Cove?"
    "You did not tell me about that."
    Agatha told him, although she was aware of James glaring at her. "And Rose was actually intelligent," she