Pushing Up Daisies by M. C. Beaton Read Free Book Online Page B

framed photographs, magazines and bunches of dried flowers. Mrs. Bull waved her hand to a horsehair sofa, indicating they should sit down. She switched on a fake log fire in the grate and then sat primly on the edge of a heavy Jacobean-type chair.
    â€œWhy were you sacked?” asked Agatha.
    â€œI spoke to one of them reporters, and Mr. Damian sacked me.”
    â€œAren’t you frightened that he might take this cottage away from you if you talk to us?” asked Gerald.
    â€œCan’t. It’s mine. The old man gave it to me. ‘For services rendered,’ he said.” She let out a cackle of laughter. “First time I heard a bit o’ leg over called that.”
    â€œYou mean…” began Agatha.
    â€œScrewed me rotten when he was drunk.”
    â€œDidn’t Mr. Bull have something to say about that?”
    â€œAin’t no Mr. Bull. I calls myself Mrs.”
    â€œBut he had a mistress. What did Jenny have to say about that?”
    â€œWily bird that one. Didn’t care. Said it gave her a night off.”
    â€œSo have you any idea who murdered Lord Bellington?” asked Gerald.
    â€œâ€™Twas that ex-wife o’ his. I’ll tell you why. I caught her down in the cellars one evening with a syringe in her hand.”
    Agatha said, “But she is a recovering alcoholic and was probably into drugs. Maybe she was just down there to get a fix. But wait a minute. I gather she didn’t come back to the hall until after Bellington died and Damian invited her.”
    â€œThat’s what I mean,” said Mrs. Bull triumphantly. “Her had no cause to be there.”
    â€œAnd what did Lord Bellington say when you told him?”
    â€œDidn’t.”
    Agatha’s bearlike eyes bored into her. “She paid you to keep quiet.”
    â€œWell, I didn’t think her was up to anything nasty-like, and the money came in handy.”
    â€œSo when was this?” asked Agatha.
    â€œA week before he popped his clogs.”
    â€œDid you tell the police?”
    â€œI thought I’d get into trouble.”
    â€œSo why are you telling us?” asked Gerald.
    â€œSomeone called on the phone just afore you got here and said I’d better keep my mouth shut.”
    â€œA man or a woman?” asked Agatha.
    â€œCouldn’t say. Metallic sort of voice.”
    â€œBut why didn’t you tell the police about Lady Bellington and the syringe?” asked Gerald.
    â€œTold you, didn’t I? Don’t have nothing to do with the police.”
    A phone rang shrilly from the back premises. “Better answer that,” said Mrs. Bull. “Back in a mo.”
    â€œWe’ll have to tell the police,” whispered Gerald.
    â€œI think she’s a fantasist. Why should Bellington want to bed someone who looks like an extra in a horror movie?”
    â€œHe was drunk and she was available,” said Gerald. “Shhh, she’s coming back.”
    â€œYou’d better leave,” said Mrs. Bull. “Right now!”
    â€œWho was on the phone?” asked Agatha.
    â€œFriend in the village. Now, get out o’ here.”
    â€œAgatha,” said Gerald when they were clear of the village, “we really have to tell the police about her. They can check her phone. She was threatened. That last phone call really frightened her.”
    â€œI’ll see if Bill Wong is at home,” said Agatha reluctantly. “The last person I want to see is Wilkes. I think that wretched man likes dragging me in for questioning.”
    They managed to prise the information out of Mrs. Wong that her son was on duty until four o’clock in the afternoon. “We’ll wait in the car park outside police headquarters and catch him when he leaves,” said Agatha.
    â€œI don’t see why we are bothering with a mere detective sergeant,” said Gerald.
    â€œBecause he’s clever and he’ll listen