Agatha's First Case by M. C. Beaton Read Free Book Online

Winter Parva. Although she suspected his mother, Gwen, of having helped in the murders, no proof was found against the woman.
    â€œActually, it was more or less on your behalf that I took not only Jill out for dinner, but Gwen as well.”
    Agatha stared at him, noticing that James with his tall, athletic body was as handsome as ever. Jill looked like a constipated otter, but there was something about Gwen Simple that made men go weak at the knees.
    â€œSo what did creepy, slimy Gwen have to say for herself?” she asked.
    â€œAgatha! The poor woman is still very traumatised. Jill did most of the talking.”
    Gwen probably sat there with a mediaeval-type gown on to suit her mediaeval-type features, thought Agatha bitterly. That one doesn’t even have to open her mouth. She just sits there and draws men in.
    â€œSo did Jill have anything to say about the case?” she asked. “And I thought Gwen had sold the bakery and moved.”
    â€œJill naturally will not tell me what a client says,” remarked James. “And Gwen has moved to Ancombe.”
    â€œI would have thought she would want to get as far away from Winter Parva as possible,” said Agatha. “I mean, a lot of the villagers must think she’s guilty.”
    â€œOn the contrary, they have been most sympathetic.”
    â€œTcha!” said Agatha Raisin.
    *   *   *
    Agatha decided to call on her friend, Mrs. Bloxby. She suddenly wondered why on earth this therapist should have gone to such lengths as to ferret out her background. As usual, the vicar’s wife was pleased to see her although, as usual, her husband was not. He slammed into his study.
    As Mrs. Bloxby led the way into the garden, Agatha poured out her worries. “I’ll get you a glass of sherry,” said Mrs. Bloxby soothingly.
    As she waited for her friend to come back, Agatha felt herself beginning to relax. Over in the churchyard, daffodils were swaying in the breeze amongst the old gravestones. In front of her, a blackbird pecked for worms on the lawn.
    Mrs. Bloxby returned with a decanter of sherry and two glasses. After she had finished pouring out the drinks, she said, “I find it most odd that Miss Davent should obviously have gone to such lengths to dig up your background. She must see you as a threat. And if she sees you as a threat, what has she got to hide?”
    â€œI should have thought of that,” said Agatha. “I’m slipping. And why bring her business to Carsely? Surely she would get more clients in town.”
    â€œI think she makes clients,” said the vicar’s wife.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œFor example, she called on me. She said it must be awful for me not to have had any children. That, you see, is a vulnerable spot. She was trying to draw me in so that I would decide to use her services. I told her I was very busy and showed her the door. Everyone has some weakness, some frailty. I do not want to spread gossip, but she has built up quite a client base. They come from villages round about as well as here. She is a very clever woman. You have been so outraged about her finding out about your background that you did not stop to wonder why she had targeted you in this way.”
    *   *   *
    On Monday morning, Agatha’s small staff gathered for a briefing. There was Toni Gilmour, blond, young and beautiful; Simon Black with his jester’s face; ex-policeman Patrick Mulligan; Phil Marshall, gentle and white-haired; and her secretary, Mrs. Freedman.
    Agatha had decided she had given up caring about her lousy background and so she told them that somehow Jill had gone out to target her and she wondered why. “We’ve got other work to do,” she said, “but if you have any spare time, see what you can find out about her. Anyone these days can claim to be a therapist without qualifications. I can’t remember if she had any sort of