Free The Blood of an Englishman by M. C. Beaton Page B

bedroom.
    She lay awake for a long time, nursing hopes that he might join her, but at last fell into a heavy sleep.
    *   *   *
    Charles Fraith let himself into Agatha’s cottage shortly after midnight. He was tired. His aunt’s dinner party seemed to have gone on forever. He yawned and opened the door to the spare bedroom and switched on the light. He stared at the man in the bed, switched off the light and retreated.
    He opened Agatha’s door. The moon shining in the window showed Agatha asleep on one side of her double bed. He shrugged, then stripped off his clothes and climbed in beside her. He folded his hands neatly on his chest and soon was sound asleep.
    *   *   *
    John awoke early. He phoned his headmaster to find the school was closed because of the snow. He tried to go back to sleep, but decided instead to get up and go downstairs for a cup of coffee.
    He put a bath towel over his arm and headed for the bathroom. It was locked. He was just turning away when the bathroom door opened. He swung round. A naked man was surveying him.
    â€œGood morning,” said Charles. “We haven’t been introduced. I am Charles Fraith. And you are?”
    â€œJohn Hale.”
    â€œAh, the schoolteacher. I’d better get dressed. I’m sleeping in Agatha’s other spare room. Practically a cupboard. See you downstairs.”
    Charles walked past him but waited until John had gone into the bathroom. He went into Agatha’s bedroom and hurriedly dressed. Agatha was still asleep. When he was dressed, he shook her awake.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doing here?” demanded Agatha.
    â€œHush. I met your inamorato. I told him I had slept in the other spare room.”
    â€œYou know there isn’t one. Where did you sleep?”
    â€œBeside you, my sweeting.”
    â€œDamn you! I am taking those keys I gave you back, once and for all. Get the hell out of here!”
    â€œNot till I have had coffee. And I have news for you. The chief constable came for dinner last night.”
    Agatha heard John leaving his room. “Say you’re one of my detectives,” she hissed.
    John made his way down to the kitchen. He had not told Agatha he had been married and had a son. He found the alimony and child maintenance he had to pay left him with not very much money. Agatha was obviously rich. Her cottage was well appointed. A rich wife could ease the burden.
    *   *   *
    Agatha dressed hurriedly and went downstairs, just in time to hear the doorbell ring. When she opened the door, James was standing on the step.
    â€œOh, come on in and join the party,” said Agatha crossly. “Why don’t you invite the whole village?”
    And with that, she turned her back on him, leaving him to close the door and follow her into the kitchen.
    John, she saw to her dismay, was freshly shaved. He must have used one of her razors. She turned red with embarrassment.
    â€œI took the liberty of taking a clean shirt out of the wardrobe in the spare room. And I found an electric razor in one of the drawers.”
    â€œThis is my ex-husband, James Lacey,” said Agatha, not wanting Charles to say he left spare clothes in the spare room. She hadn’t known about the razor because her cleaner, Doris Simpson, always cleaned that room along with the others.
    â€œJames, this is John Hale. He was supposed to be in The Mikado the night George Southern took his place.”
    â€œDoesn’t anyone want to hear my great news?” asked Charles, taking one of Agatha’s cigarettes and lighting it.
    â€œOut with it,” commanded Agatha.
    â€œDavid Buxton has been taken in for questioning.”
    â€œHow did you find that out?” asked Agatha.
    â€œAs I said, the chief constable was at a dinner party last night. He said Buxton took the sword to the blacksmith and had it ground until it was razor sharp. He then showed off to some of