Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden (13 page)

Oh, James, wailed her mind, will I ever see you again? What will happen to my cats?

And then she felt herself falling and let out a long wail of terror.

But then her panic receded. The Ferris wheel was starting to move. Down and down she went. Blue lights were beginning to flicker along the coast road. Jimmy had a mobile phone in the car. He must have called for help.

At long last the Ferris wheel lurched to a halt and there was Jimmy with several fairground people. And suddenly the fairground was full of police cars and an ambulance.

“You’re going straight to hospital,” said Jimmy.

“I’m all right,” said Agatha, through chattering teeth.

“You might be suffering from hypothermia.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” said Jimmy.

∨
The Witch of Wyckhadden
∧

6

A
gatha awoke in hospital in Hadderton the following morning. The sleepy policewoman, Trul, was sitting beside her bed.

Agatha struggled up against the pillows. “So what happened?” she asked.

“The man operating the Ferris wheel said it jammed and he went to get help.”

“What!” Agatha was outraged. “I don’t believe that for a moment. Inspector Jessop had to climb all the way down that Ferris wheel in a storm because we were up there for ages.”

The policewoman rose. “Now you’re awake, do you feel strong enough to make a statement?”

“I feel fine. What’s the medical verdict?”

“You were not suffering from hypothermia but you may be suffering from shock. I’ll get Detective Sergeant Peter Carroll. He’s outside.”

Carroll came in. “Now, if you will begin at the beginning and tell me in your own words what happened,” he said, drawing out a notebook.

“I’m hardly likely to tell you in anyone else’s words,” said Agatha crossly. She described succinctly how the Ferris wheel had stopped when they were right at the top. “Before the storm blotted everything out,” said Agatha, “I could see the lights in the fairground below going out. To me it looked as if they were packing up for the night and going to leave us up there.”

“That will be all for the moment,” said Carroll, closing his notebook.

“Can I leave?”

“That’s between you and the hospital.”

“Then send in a nurse!”

When Carroll had left and had been replaced by a nurse, Agatha said she wanted to sign herself out. There was a long wait for a doctor and then all the forms to sign before her still-damp clothes were produced. They might at least have dried them, thought Agatha huffily.

She went out of the hospital, where steady rain was falling, and waited for the cab she had ordered. She began to feel very weak and shaky but she was determined to get back to the hotel. She took out the tranquillizers they had given her and threw them in a waste bucket beside the hotel entrance. In Agatha’s experience, all tranquillizers did was delay shock and misery.

The cab arrived and she was driven the short distance to the hotel in Wyckhadden. She went straight up to her room and ran a hot bath, stripped off her clothes, and soaked in it, wondering all the while if some of Francie’s relatives were responsible for her death and had tried to get the inspector out of the way. But she decided, as she towelled herself dry, that did not make sense. The fairground people must know that had Jimmy been killed, then they would have been plagued with police investigations until the end of time, not to mention a charge of manslaughter.

She realized she was hungry and it was lunch-time. She went down to the dining-room.

The rest were just finishing their meals. “We were looking for you last night,” the colonel called over.

“I was nearly killed,” said Agatha. She told them about her adventure on the Ferris wheel, half expecting them to shy away from the subject, but they all came crowding around her table, demanding details.

“Probably revenge,” said the colonel when Agatha had finished.

“For what?”

“Oh, I remember when Jessop was in charge of a crackdown on that fairground, charged them with gluing down the coconuts on the shy and bending the sights of the rifles.”

Agatha felt disappointed. “I had hoped their behaviour might have had something to do with the murders.”

“
Titanic
is showing at the cinema in Wyckhadden,” said the colonel. “We all thought of going.”

“Why not?” said Agatha wearily. This lot were never going to discuss the murders and the idea of losing herself in a long film and forgetting about mayhem and murder was tempting. “When did you plan to go?”

“We’re going to the matinee. Special rates for old age pensioners.”

“That leaves me out,” said Agatha tartly.

“If you say so,” remarked the colonel, and Agatha looked at his old face quickly for signs of malice but it showed nothing.

Left to eat, Agatha carefully sliced a line down the middle of her plate and ate half. Once, in an attempt to up-market her reading, she had read Muriel Spark’s
A Far Cry From Kensington
. In it, the heroine had figured out that if she ate only half of everything on her plate, she would lose weight. That had struck Agatha as being eminently sensible and she was hardly likely to starve, a half of the hotel’s portions being the equivalent of any other hotel’s full meal.

She was just finishing her coffee when old Harry popped his head round the door and said they were ready to leave. Agatha was travelling in one taxi with Harry and Daisy, the colonel in the one in front with Mary and Jennifer.

On the way, Daisy squeezed Agatha’s arm and whispered, “Come to my room later. I must speak to you.” Agatha nodded. At last! A crack in the silence.

The cinema was in the middle of the promenade and packed with old people. To Agatha’s surprise, a haze of cigarette smoke was drifting in front of the screen. By all that was holy, a cinema which still allowed smoking. She was fumbling in her bag for her cigarettes when she realized with a sort of wonder that she had not smoked once or thought of it while she was out with Jimmy. She kept her handbag firmly closed and concentrated on the screen, which was showing advertisements for local businesses.

The film was one of those ones the Americans ruin by insisting on putting 1990
s
values on to historical events. The hero was miles too young to interest Agatha. But the special effects were stupendous. In fact, Agatha could swear, just as the
Titanic
hit that iceberg, that she could feel the water lapping around her feet. Then there were shouts and curses. There
was
water lapping about her feet.

“Must be an exceptionally high tide,” Agatha heard the colonel say. “We’d better leave by the back door.”

The audience were filing out, apart from a few stalwarts who had put their feet up on the seat in front. The film was still running. They all filed outside into the pouring rain.

“Let’s have a look at the sea,” said Jennifer. “We’re all wet anyway.”

They walked down a side street towards the promenade. Huge waves were crashing on to the promenade and sweeping up the street.

“Does this often happen?” asked Agatha.

“Every so often,” said Mary. “It’s a wonder the foundations of that cinema haven’t been removed.”

They made their way to the hotel around the back streets. “Will the hotel be flooded?” asked Agatha.

“The sea is never so ferocious along at the pier,” said Harry, “and the staff always put out sandbags.”

They walked down a side street leading to the hotel. “Look at that!” cried Agatha as a huge wave crashed right over the dance hall at the end of the pier. “Surely it can’t withstand a battering like that.”

“Tide’ll be turning soon,” said the colonel.

Sure enough, sandbags had been piled up in front of the hotel. Agatha went up to her room to change into dry tights and shoes. How very British we all are, she thought as she dried her feet. No one demanded their money back. I bet no one’s even written to the newspapers suggesting the cinema should be located at the back of the town. No, all they’ll say is, “We often have weather like this. It doesn’t last long. Mustn’t grumble.”

There was a knock at the door. Agatha put on a pair of slippers and opened it. Daisy stood there. “Oh, you wanted a word with me,” said Agatha eagerly. “Do come in.”

Daisy came in and closed the door behind her. She sat down in a chair by the window. “Such dreadful rain,” she murmured.

“Would you like tea or something?” asked Agatha.

“No, I just want to talk.”

Agatha sat on the bed. “So talk, Daisy.”

Daisy looked out again at the pouring rain. “Did you enjoy the film?”

“All right until we got washed out. Is that what you wanted to discuss? The film?”

“No, no, of course not.” Daisy plucked nervously at her skirt. She’s a bag of nerves, thought Agatha. It must be something about the murders.

Agatha waited patiently. Then Daisy said, “You went off for a drink with the colonel last night.”

“I did not,” said Agatha crossly. “Last night I was freezing to death at the top of a Ferris wheel.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot. Of course, it was the evening before that. I saw you go off with the colonel.”

“We went for one drink, that’s all.”

Daisy clasped her hands and looked beseechingly at Agatha. “Are you keen on him?”

“Colonel Lyche? No, frankly. Too old for me.”

“But why did you go off with him?”

“I wanted to ask him about the murders. Look here, Daisy, I find it most odd that mere have been two murders committed and yet none of you ever want to discuss them.”

“Murder is not a thing ladies discuss,” said Daisy primly.

Agatha looked at her in exasperation. “Is that really all you wanted to talk to me about? I mean, to warn me off the colonel.”

“I never – ”

“I mean,” said Agatha, her tone softening, “you are keen on the colonel and you thought I might take him away from you.”

“Yes.”

“Well, the colonel has no interest in me whatsoever.”

“But I saw you walking on the pier and he took your arm.”

“He’s a gentleman. It was a gentlemanly thing to do. That’s all. How long have you been keen on the colonel?”

“Years,” said Daisy sadly.

“Have you ever thought of asking him out for a drink?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t!”

“Why?”

“Ladies don’t.”

“This is the nineties. They do now,” said Agatha. “Look, that Gilbert and Sullivan company has moved to Hadderton. You could get a couple of tickets and say they were given to you by a friend, and would he like to use the other ticket?”

“I’ll try that,” said Daisy, her eyes shining.

“Do you ever read any magazines?” asked Agatha curiously.

“Yes, I read newspaper supplements and sometimes
Good Housekeeping
.”

“Not
Cosmopolitan?
”

“No. Why?”

“Just wondered,” said Agatha, who had been thinking about all the raunchy articles on sex that appeared in women’s magazines these days.

“Go for it, Daisy. At least you’ll have an evening on your own with him.”

Daisy had just left when the phone rang. It was Jimmy, who said he was downstairs and would like to see her.

Agatha deftly applied a fresh coat of make-up, put on high heels instead of her slippers and made her way downstairs.

“How are you?” asked Jimmy with that warm smile of his which always lifted Agatha’s heart.

“I don’t seem to have suffered any damage at all,” said Agatha cheerfully. “Although I do seem fated to get wet.” She told him about her visit to the cinema.

“Let’s go into the lounge and have a drink,” said Jimmy. “I took a look. No one’s in there now.”

They walked in and sat down in front of the fire. “I’ve got an exciting bit of news. Someone’s turned himself in.”

“You’ve got the murderer!” The waiter appeared. Jimmy ordered drinks. When he had gone, Jimmy said, “No, not the murderer. Some small-bit actor has confessed doing voices for Francie and Janine. They would describe the sort of voice they wanted. We found a pretty elaborate sound system in a lock-up that Francie had rented on the outside of the town.”

“Has he been charged?”

“Yes, with conspiracy to defraud. But he’ll probably just get a fine. He didn’t really know he was doing anything wrong and he needed the money. He works for a repertory company over at Hadderton.”

“Did he know them well? I mean, can he shed any light on why someone would want to kill both of them?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s quite old. Been doing bits for them on and off for years. He said he needed the money and as far as he was concerned, seances are only another form of theatre.”

“I keep thinking and thinking about it,” said Agatha. “So many unanswered questions. To go back to the first murder, why was Francie’s door unlocked? Did you ask Cliff about that?”

“He says he doesn’t know anything about it,” said Jimmy. “But this is usually a very safe town.” He grinned. “Or rather, it was before you came along. A lot of people don’t bother locking their doors.”

“Yes, but I can’t help feeling Francie must have been up to something to get herself murdered. And she had cash in that box.”

“You forget. She really did have a reputation as a witch in this town. Normally no one would have dared to go near her.”

Agatha frowned. “There’s something else that keeps nagging away at the back of my mind. Wait a bit. I’ve got it! When you first told me that Francie kept records and you described what that lot at the hotel had consulted her about, you said that Jennifer of all people had asked for a love potion.”

“Yes. So?”

“But this is
Jennifer
we’re talking about. She’s practically married to Mary. Why would she want a love potion? Did you ask her?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said slowly.

“I wonder if she’d tell me,” said Agatha.

“Let’s talk about us.” Jimmy put his hand over Agatha’s. “When this is all over, I don’t like the idea of you disappearing out of my life.”