Read Online Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist by MC Beaton - Free Book Online

a dreadful shade of pink. There were already sun blisters on his shoulders but he seemed unaware of the heat.
    ‘Poor, poor Rose,’ mourned Angus. ‘Who waud hae done such a thing to a bonnie lassie like that?’
    ‘We phoned Trevor and Angus and told them to move here,’ said Olivia to James.
    ‘Why?’ asked Agatha, glaring, for Olivia had put a hand on James’s thigh.
    ‘Because people like us are brought up to help our fellow man,’ said Olivia coldly. ‘Something that someone like you might not be aware of, Agatha.’
    Agatha felt that Olivia had pierced through the layers of Mayfair built up over the years to the Birmingham slum where Agatha had been brought up.
    ‘Oh, piss off,’ said Agatha. ‘I’m going for a swim.’
    She was very conscious of her rear as she walked off. She hoped her bottom wasn’t sagging. She really must pull herself together. She took a deep breath and jumped into the pool, expecting the shock of cold water, but the sea-water in the pool was warm. She swam energetically up and down until she felt calmer. She turned on her back to perform the backstroke and hit someone on the face. She rolled back over and found herself looking into a rather battered, but handsome middle-aged face.
    ‘Sorry,’ said Agatha.
    ‘It’s all right,’ he said with a grin that revealed white teeth. ‘Couldn’t have been hit by a more attractive lady.’
    ‘You’re American?’
    ‘No, Israeli. Here on holiday. You?’
    ‘British. And on holiday as well.’
    ‘We can’t talk very well paddling round each other like this,’ he said. ‘Let’s sit at the edge of the pool for a bit.’
    ‘I’m Bert Mort,’ he said, extending a wet hand when they sat together at the edge, their feet in the water.
    ‘Agatha Raisin,’ said Agatha, shaking his hand.
    ‘I was brought up in Brooklyn,’ said Bert. ‘But I moved to Israel ten years ago and I’ve got a clothing business outside Tel Aviv.’
    ‘High-fashion?’
    ‘No, T-shirts, holiday wear, things like that. Did you hear about the murder?’
    ‘I was there.’
    ‘Jeez, that must have been awful. Tell me about it.’
    So Agatha did, hoping James was noticing her in the company of this good-looking man. She glanced across at James but his back was to her and he was talking to Olivia.
    At last Bert said, ‘Why not join me for dinner tonight? Or is there a Mr Raisin with you?’
    ‘No, and I would like dinner. Where?’
    ‘I’ll meet you in the hotel dining-room at eight.’
    Agatha got up and said goodbye to her new friend and strolled back to the table. She felt all her old confidence restored.
    ‘Olivia’s given me some sun-block,’ said James. ‘Sit down, Agatha, and I’ll put some on your shoulders. They’re turning bright red.’
    As he stroked on the cream with an impersonal hand, Agatha said to Olivia, ‘I’m sorry I flared up like that. But I’m still tired. We had a grilling from the police this morning.’
    ‘Yes, so did we,’ said Olivia. ‘We’re to go to Nicosia tomorrow for the official grilling.’
    ‘So are we,’ said Agatha. ‘But they must know none of us can have had anything to do with it.’
    ‘It’s those damned foreigners and their knives,’ growled Harry Tembleton.
    ‘They don’t think it was a knife,’ said Trevor. ‘They say it was something much thinner, like a kebab skewer.’
    Agatha had a sudden memory of Rose salaciously eating kebab off a skewer at the Grapevine. She wondered if a skewer had gone missing from the Grapevine.
    James said they should leave. By the time Agatha had put her beach dress on, she could feel her shoulders beginning to burn painfully. She told James about her idea of checking at the Grapevine to see if a skewer was missing.
    ‘I don’t think that’s much use,’ said James. ‘They sell them all over town. And any restaurant here is bound to have bundles of them in the kitchen. But we could go there for dinner tonight if you like.’
    ‘I’ve got a