‘Come in,’ said Agatha, ‘and tell me, please, that I can get rid of this disguise. The wig’s so heavy, and these pads in my cheeks make me feel like a chipmunk.’
‘They also make you sound drunk,’ said Bill, following her into the kitchen. ‘Make me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.’
Agatha plugged in the percolator after tearing off her wig and clawing the pads out of her cheeks. ‘I can’t wait,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘Start talking.’
‘Tom Richards was divorced amicably from his wife a year ago. He married Amy six months later. She begged for a makeover, face-lift, the works, so he sent her to Los Angeles. She was never in Florida. Asked why she had made up this fairy tale about this Art Mackenzie, it turns out she’s a bit of a fantasist, and it was all in a plot she had seen in some soap opera over there. Asked why she had lied, she said that if she had said that she had asked poor Bunchie to pay up so much money for her cosmetic surgery, it would make her look grasping and vain. Thanks.’
He took a mug of coffee from Agatha. ‘Richards supports her story, and yes, he did pay for everything.’
Agatha sat down beside him and nursed a cup of coffee. One cat, Hodge, climbed on Bill’s lap, and the other, Boswell, tried to lie across his head. He gently lifted both of them on to the floor.
‘Something’s wrong here,’ said Agatha. ‘You didn’t tell her that I had spilled the beans?’
‘No, we told her we had been checking up on her marital status, that the FBI in Florida had no records of an Art Mackenzie, and she came out with the truth.’
‘There’s something wrong here.’ Agatha lit a cigarette. ‘It’s like this. The one thing I believe that Amy told me is that Beech abused her. She said her father had beaten her. She said she liked masterful men. I wonder if the face-lift was really her idea, or was Richards being controlling and manipulating. I wonder whether he tried to get his ex to get a face-lift. Then the money from the divorce from Beech. She said he paid her a generous amount. I wonder if he paid her in cash. I’d like to speak to the former Mrs Richards.’
‘It’s a bit far-fetched, Agatha. I mean, he may not look like much, but he’s very, very rich. Rich men can usually get themselves arm candy easily enough.’
‘Pig! Pig!’ said Agatha.
‘Are you insulting . . . ?’
‘No, no. The pig whatsit.’
‘Oh, Pygmalion.’
‘That’s the chap.’
‘No, you’re getting a bit carried away. He seems to dote on her.’
‘But she showed me a photo of herself before the face-lift. She wasn’t even pretty.’
‘I’d backpedal for a bit,’ said Bill. ‘Don’t want you blundering around in the middle of a police investigation.’
Agatha bristled. ‘She’s paying me to find out who killed Gary, and I need the money. That’s a point. Money. Beech evidently paid her generously to give him a divorce. Now where does a mere plod get the money to be generous to anyone?’
‘We’re looking into that. His bank balance only contained a few hundred pounds, but Detective Constable Alice Peterson pointed out when we visited Gary’s home that it held some expensive antiques. We traced the antiques dealer. Yes, Gary bought several expensive pieces of furniture and paid cash. So he was up to something on the side.’
‘Maybe he targeted people the whole time and charged them with this and that and then took bribes.’
‘No, I don’t think so. He delighted in getting people into court.’
Bill had just left when Toni arrived. ‘I want a word with you, Mrs Raisin,’ she said.
‘Come in,’ said Agatha. ‘What’s up?’
Toni marched straight through to the kitchen and slammed a wedding invitation down on the table. ‘This is what’s up, you interfering old bag.’
Agatha read the invitation. Lance Corporal Simon Black was to wed Sergeant Susan Crispin in Mircester Abbey on June the tenth.
‘So?’ demanded Agatha. ‘What the hell has this to do with me?’
‘This letter that came with the invitation.’ Toni handed her an airmail.
Agatha read: ‘Dear Toni, I would like you to come to my wedding because I have fond memories of the work we did together. I would have married you then, but Agatha told me you were too young and to go away and think about it for three years. I couldn’t bear to go on snubbing you and seeing you hurt. So I joined the army. Luckily I met Susie, who’s the girl for me, so maybe Agatha was right all along not to trust me. Love, Simon.’
‘Thanks to your interference, he could be blown up out there,’ said Toni. ‘I am eighteen years old, not a child. Do not interfere in my life again. Oh, and take a month’s notice.’
Agatha sank down into a chair as Toni stormed out.
‘Anyone home?’ came Charles’s voice.
‘Oh, do walk in and stamp all over my feelings,’ howled Agatha, and burst into tears.
Charles waited until Agatha had finished crying and said gently, ‘I saw Toni driving off like a bat out of hell. Has she found out about Simon?’
Agatha sniffed miserably. ‘She forgot these.’ She pushed the wedding invitation and the letter in front of him.
Charles read both carefully. ‘I see.’
‘And she’s given a month’s notice.’
‘You shouldn’t have interfered.’
‘I know, I know. It wasn’t all selfish. It wasn’t all because I didn’t want to lose a good detective. But there was something unstable about Simon. I sensed it.’
‘You should have let her find out for herself.’
‘What about Paul Finlay? If I hadn’t found out from Bill he was a wife beater and if Bill hadn’t gone round to her flat, she would not have been rescued from a beating.’
‘Didn’t she try to defend herself?’
‘Well, yes,’ admitted Agatha. ‘She grabbed him by the balls.’
‘Toni can fight her own battles. She’s been taking classes in judo. I think maybe Bill arrived in the nick of time to rescue Paul.’
‘What about the time that creep took her to Paris and she begged me for help? Who got her out of that mess? Me! That’s who. She’s just going to lurch from one hopeless man to another.’
‘Like you, Aggie.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘Your first husband was a drunk, your second husband is a coldhearted confirmed bachelor type, and you nearly married a control freak and I had to come and rescue you.’
‘That’s different.’
‘It’s not. Oh, let’s not quarrel. How are you going to get Toni to stay?’
‘Try giving her the top jobs and nothing else. Keep out of her way.’
The next day in the office, Agatha greeted her staff breezily as if nothing had happened. ‘Toni,’ she said, ‘I want you to give whatever jobs you have to Patrick and Phil. I’ve got a big one for you. Let me outline the case to date.’
They all listened intently. When Agatha had finished, she said, ‘Toni, I want you to go and see the first Mrs Richards. Try to find out if Richards wanted her to have a face-lift. I’m working on the theory that he might be a nasty, manipulative man.’
‘Give me the address,’ said Toni.
Agatha handed it to her. ‘I’m going to type out what I’ve just told all of you so it can be checked on the computer at any time. Patrick, if you have any spare time today, I want you to get on to your old police contacts and find out if they have any suggestions how Beech could have been making money on the side.’
Toni gathered up her belongings and left the office. Agatha looked wistful as she watched her go.
Toni felt emotionally numb as she drove in the direction of the Richardses’ villa. She pushed out of her mind all the times Agatha had come to her rescue, beginning with saving her from her alcoholic brother and finding her a flat and a job.