James fussed over her when they got home, making her drink a cup of hot sweet tea, take a couple of aspirin, and go back to bed.
She lay for a long time shivering, twisting and turning before she finally fell asleep.
The Dembley Walkers met in the Grapes on Sunday evening at six because Peter and Terry were on duty at the restaurant at seven. Agatha and James were there, having been telephoned by a frantic Deborah, screaming that they were all going to be murdered, and what was Agatha doing about it?
James looked around the quiet and subdued group and said, "Where's Mary Trapp?"
"Helping the police with their inquiries," said Kelvin gloomily.
"Why?"
"Her neighbours said they heard her going out during the night. She's got a dotty dog lover living next door," said Peter. "Dog decides it wants walkies at two in the morning. Neighbour sees Mary all kitted out in her boots and shorts turning the corner of the street."
"Mary couldn't have done it, could she?" asked Agatha, thinking uneasily that they had not yet checked up on her.
"We were just talking about that before you came in," said Deborah. "None of us really knows anything about Mary. She and Jessica were close. But then Jessica was close to all of us." She began to cry. "I can't stand this."
"I suppose we all had alibis for last night?" said James.
He looked round the group. There was a gloomy shaking of heads. The murder had taken place during the night and all of them claimed to have been in their beds.
"I think they're still questioning Ratcliffe. He was once in prison for beating up a man in a pub," said Kelvin. "Mark ma words, this one had naethin' to dae with Jessica's murder. Jeffrey went out during the night wi' thae wire-cutters, Ratcliffe saw him, picked up thon rock and shied it at him and Jeffrey fell down dead."
"So it wasn't an accident?" asked Agatha.
"No," said Kelvin. "They're treating it as murder."
The door opened and Bill Wong came in, followed by a policeman and policewoman. He came up to their table. "Alice Dewhurst," he said, "we want you to accompany us to the station."
"Why?" demanded Alice, turning a muddy colour.
"Just a few questions. Come along."
"What's that all about?" they asked Gemma.
She shrugged. "I don't know, I'm sure."
"Was Alice with you all night?" asked Peter.
Again that shrug. "Don't ask me. I took one of them barbiturates and was dead to the world until she brought my tea in the morning."
"Don't worry, sweetie," said Terry. "You know Alice could never have done it."
"I dunno," said Gemma to their surprise. "Got ever such a nasty temper."
"But why on earth would she want to biff Jeffrey?" asked Agatha.
"Maybe because she thought he killed Jessica," said Gemma, scooping up a handful of peanuts from a bowl on the table.
"Not very loyal, are we, darling?" commented Terry.
"Actually I'm a bit tired of Alice," said Gemma, looking earnestly round at them. "She gets on my tits."
"Oh, we all knew that, sweetie," said Peter and nudged Terry and sniggered.
Peter turned his attention to James and Agatha. "And just what were our loving couple doing last night?"
"What do you think?" asked James.
"Oh, don't pull that one. I should have thought romance went down the plug hole for you two a million years ago." Peter sounded suddenly waspish.
"You'd better watch out, you dismal little twit, or I'll biff you," said Agatha. "Shouldn't you and your fairy friend here be off to that slum of a restaurant to serve up another dose of salmonella to your customers?"
"Nasty, nasty," chided Peter, quite unfazed. "Come on, Terry. Duty calls."
The party broke up with their going. James and Agatha went back to their flat.
"Well," said James gloomily, "I haven't a clue. What about you?"
Agatha shook her head. "As far as I'm concerned, any of them could have done it. I can't look at them objectively any more. I'm beginning to dislike the lot of them."
"Let's have a drink and think about dinner. What do you want?"
"Gin and tonic, please. Oh, there's someone at the door."
James put down the gin bottle and went to answer it. He hoped it wasn't one of the walkers. He felt he had had enough of them for one day.
But it was Bill Wong, who said, "May I come in? I have some news that might interest you."
He refused a drink. "Is it about Alice?" asked Agatha.
He nodded. "We've been digging into the past life of all the suspects. We got some old newsreel film of the Greenham Common women. One report, trying to prove they were all noisy slags, had interesting footage of Alice and Jessica, a younger Alice and Jessica, having a stand-up fight. Now Alice said in her statement that she did not know Jessica before Jessica came to Dembley, so why did she lie?"
"And what does she say?" asked James.
"She says she had forgotten all about it, that she always thought there was something familiar about Jessica. She's still lying, but we can't get her to say anything else. Now if Jeffrey knew anything about her and Alice, Alice might have decided to shut him up. She could have called on him and suggested it would be a great idea to get even with Ratcliffe by cutting the padlock on that gate."
"Were the wire-cutters hers?" asked Agatha.
"No luck there. Jeffrey had bought them himself six weeks ago to get even with another landowner who had padlocked and chained a gate over a right of way. You've been with these people. You were on that walk. There must be one of them who struck you as being capable of murder."
James looked at Agatha, and Agatha looked at James. Both shook their heads.
"These murders have twisted up my mind so much that I look at them and think any of them could have done it," said James.
Bill sighed. "Normally I would be telling you both to go home and forget about all this, but I keep hoping that in your amateur way you might hit on something."
"What about forensic evidence?" asked Agatha. "Footprints, fingerprints?"
"Can't get anything off that rock, and the ground was bone-dry and hard. Jeffrey's car was found nearby. They're going over that inch by inch. It'll take some time for all the fibres, if there are any, to be analysed and traced. I'm tired. Pray for just one break before anyone else gets murdered!"
When Bill had left, James said, "What about going back to Carsely and putting everything we've got on the computer and then see if we can hit on something."
"I may as well see my cats," said Agatha. "Should I bring them back with me?"
"If you like," he said moodily. "But I don't think there's any point in us staying here much longer."
Agatha glanced round the flat which had become their home for such a brief period. All her dreams of romance with James had faded away. They somehow seemed to have settled down to living together like two old bachelors.
Once back at Carsely, she fed and petted her cats, although deciding not to take them to Dembley with her, before going next door and joining James at the computer. But before he had started typing out the first list of names, his doorbell went and he soon returned, followed by Mrs Mason.
"I saw your car outside," she said to Agatha. "How are things going?"
"Very slowly," said Agatha.
"I'm worried about poor little Deborah," said Mrs Mason, heaving her corseted bulk into a chair. "This other murder - I saw it on the six o'clock news - must be frightening her to death." She preened lightly. "Thank goodness she has Sir Charles to look after her. Do you know she went to Barfield House for dinner last night?"