Free Agatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryham by MC Beaton Page B

exchanged and knew they were putting Agatha down as a slightly unbalanced eccentric.
    ‘I think at the moment,’ said Hand sarcastically, when Agatha’s voice had finally trailed off under his stony stare, ‘that we’ll just settle for good old-fashioned police work. But should we find ourselves baffled, we will appeal to you for help. Can we go on? Right. Why did you visit Mr Trumpington-James? Had either of you known him before you came here? You first, Mrs Raisin.’
    Agatha described how she had first been invited for tea. Then she hesitated a moment, wondering whether to tell Hand about Lucy’s suspicions of her husband’s infidelity. Then she thought angrily, why should I? Let him find out for himself if he’s so damned clever.
    ‘You hesitated there,’ said Hand. ‘Is there something you’re holding back?’
    ‘No,’ said Agatha. ‘Why should I hold anything back?’
    Hand turned to Charles. ‘You say you did not know Mr Trumpington-James before and yet you called on him with Mrs Raisin. Why? You only arrived yesterday.’
    ‘Aggie told me about the theft of the Stubbs.’
    ‘Aggie being Mrs Raisin.’
    ‘It’s Agatha, actually,’ said Agatha crossly.
    ‘So, Sir Charles, you called. Why?’
    Charles felt ashamed of saying they thought they might be able to find out who had stolen the Stubbs after all Agatha’s bragging, but he shrugged and said, ‘We thought we might get an idea of who had taken it.’
    ‘How?’ demanded Hand sharply. He should cut his fingernails, thought Agatha. They’re like claws, all chalky and ridged.
    ‘How, what?’
    ‘How on earth did you think, Sir Charles, that you could find out something the police could not? You do not have forensic equipment or even a knowledge of the area.’
    ‘I know you didn’t believe Agatha when she was going on about the mysteries she solved,’ said Charles patiently, ‘but you can always check with the Mircester police. You see, people talk to us the way they wouldn’t talk to a policeman, and I’ll tell you why. Take you, for instance. By sneering at Aggie, you put her back up, so if by any chance she does hear a useful piece of gossip, she won’t go running to you.’
    ‘If I find either of you have been withholding useful evidence, then I shall charge you.’
    ‘Just listen to yourself,’ said Charles, unflustered. ‘Now you’ve put my back up.’
    ‘We will start our search now,’ said Hand grimly. ‘And we will be keeping this manuscript for the moment. You will get a receipt for it.’
    After two hours, the police left. ‘I’m starving,’ said Charles. ‘We haven’t had breakfast. Got any eggs?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I’ll make us an omelette and then we’ll go and see that copper, the local bod, what’s his name?’
    ‘Framp.’
    ‘That’s the one.’
    ‘But why him, Charles?’
    ‘Because he’s only a copper and I’ll bet he got the wrong side of Hand’s mouth. We’ll go and be oh, so sympathetic.’
    ‘Won’t he be up at the manor?’
    ‘Not him. He’ll have been sent back to his beat with a flea between both ears. I’ll make that omelette.’
    Agatha sat hunched over a mug of coffee in the kitchen, watching Charles as he whisked eggs in a bowl. Why do I always land up with men who never tell me what they really think of me? she wondered. Charles had made love to her in the past but he had never said anything particularly affectionate. He came and went in her life, leaving very little trace of his real thoughts or personality.
    After they had eaten, they headed out to see PC Framp. Agatha said testily – cross because Charles had insisted they walk and she was wearing high heels – that it was a useless effort. PC Framp would at least have been roped in to comb the bushes around the manor for clues.
    There was a high wind which sent the tops of the pine trees tossing and making a sound like the sea, but on the ground it was strangely calm, apart from sudden whispering puffs of wind. Little