dog?”
“The nasty little thing that yapped all the time?”
“She lives next door. I couldn’t bear the noise anymore. I crushed up a lot of my sleeping pills and put them in a bowl of chopped steak. When the beast fell unconscious, I put it in a sack and drowned it in the rain barrel. Then I buried it.”
“And how did Jill find out?”
“She seemed ever such a good listener, and no one ever listens to me. So I paid for a consultation. The death of that dog was on my conscience. So I told her. The next thing I know she was demanding regular payments for my silence. I had to pay up.”
“You’ve confirmed for me that this was Jill’s,” said Agatha. “I won’t tell the police. But why did Jill tell you about my background?”
“That was before I actually consulted her. We were having a drink and she told me.”
“So why spread it around?”
She hung her head. “I don’t know. I told the police about you threatening to kill her because I didn’t want them to start looking at me.”
“Just keep clear of me in the future,” said Agatha. “You are a sickening woman.”
* * *
As Agatha was about to enter her cottage, she was hailed by James Lacey, who hurried to join her. “Toni’s just called me,” he said. “She told me to look out for you as someone just tried to kill you.”
“Come in and I’ll tell you all about it. I haven’t had lunch and I must eat something.”
Agatha told him, between bites of a cheese sandwich, everything that had happened, ending up with, “So I think I’ll have to throw myself on Bill’s mercy, but first, I’d like to track down the husband.”
“I’d better come with you.”
Agatha looked at him. There he was, as handsome as ever from his lightly tanned face and bright blue eyes to his tall muscular figure. Why did she no longer feel a thing?
“Right,” said Agatha. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
* * *
As they turned into the road that led up the side of the Regal Cinema, Agatha said, “I’m glad they restored that old cinema. Must go one day. Now, I’ll put the car in the parking place and we can start knocking on doors.”
When Agatha parked the car and got a parking ticket, she returned to find James searching his iPad. “I’m just checking if there are any Davents in this street. Did she keep her married name?”
“Oh, Lord, I don’t know,” said Agatha crossly, cross because she had been caught out at missing a basic piece of detection.
“Oh, here we are,” said James. “There’s a T. Davent at number 905A. That must be right along at the end. The A probably means it’s a basement flat, or what the estate agents call a garden flat.”
“So it’s not called Douglas. I wonder what she was talking about?”
“Who?
“Tell you later.”
They started to walk. The day had turned hot and humid. Agatha felt uneasily that her make-up was melting and running down her neck.
“Don’t take such long strides,” she complained.
“You shouldn’t wear such high heels the whole time,” commented James. But he slowed his pace. He looked down at the top of Agatha’s glossy hair and felt an odd pang of loss. But surely it was Agatha’s fault that their marriage had not worked out. She would go on smoking and insisted on carrying on working. But what he missed was her old, unquestioning adoration of him.
“Here we are at last,” said Agatha. “Of course, with my bloody luck, he’ll be out working. Let’s try the basement. Yes, the name on the door is Davent.” She rang the bell.
The door was opened by a small, blond woman with a discontented face. Agatha guessed she was in her late thirties.
“I don’t want encyclopaedias, I’ve got double glazing and I don’t believe in God,” she said harshly.
Agatha rapidly introduced herself. “I was hoping to talk to Mr. Davent.”
“I’m his sister, Freda. If you want to ask him about the bitch from hell, you’ll find him at his shop, Computing Plus, on
“The nasty little thing that yapped all the time?”
“She lives next door. I couldn’t bear the noise anymore. I crushed up a lot of my sleeping pills and put them in a bowl of chopped steak. When the beast fell unconscious, I put it in a sack and drowned it in the rain barrel. Then I buried it.”
“And how did Jill find out?”
“She seemed ever such a good listener, and no one ever listens to me. So I paid for a consultation. The death of that dog was on my conscience. So I told her. The next thing I know she was demanding regular payments for my silence. I had to pay up.”
“You’ve confirmed for me that this was Jill’s,” said Agatha. “I won’t tell the police. But why did Jill tell you about my background?”
“That was before I actually consulted her. We were having a drink and she told me.”
“So why spread it around?”
She hung her head. “I don’t know. I told the police about you threatening to kill her because I didn’t want them to start looking at me.”
“Just keep clear of me in the future,” said Agatha. “You are a sickening woman.”
* * *
As Agatha was about to enter her cottage, she was hailed by James Lacey, who hurried to join her. “Toni’s just called me,” he said. “She told me to look out for you as someone just tried to kill you.”
“Come in and I’ll tell you all about it. I haven’t had lunch and I must eat something.”
Agatha told him, between bites of a cheese sandwich, everything that had happened, ending up with, “So I think I’ll have to throw myself on Bill’s mercy, but first, I’d like to track down the husband.”
“I’d better come with you.”
Agatha looked at him. There he was, as handsome as ever from his lightly tanned face and bright blue eyes to his tall muscular figure. Why did she no longer feel a thing?
“Right,” said Agatha. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
* * *
As they turned into the road that led up the side of the Regal Cinema, Agatha said, “I’m glad they restored that old cinema. Must go one day. Now, I’ll put the car in the parking place and we can start knocking on doors.”
When Agatha parked the car and got a parking ticket, she returned to find James searching his iPad. “I’m just checking if there are any Davents in this street. Did she keep her married name?”
“Oh, Lord, I don’t know,” said Agatha crossly, cross because she had been caught out at missing a basic piece of detection.
“Oh, here we are,” said James. “There’s a T. Davent at number 905A. That must be right along at the end. The A probably means it’s a basement flat, or what the estate agents call a garden flat.”
“So it’s not called Douglas. I wonder what she was talking about?”
“Who?
“Tell you later.”
They started to walk. The day had turned hot and humid. Agatha felt uneasily that her make-up was melting and running down her neck.
“Don’t take such long strides,” she complained.
“You shouldn’t wear such high heels the whole time,” commented James. But he slowed his pace. He looked down at the top of Agatha’s glossy hair and felt an odd pang of loss. But surely it was Agatha’s fault that their marriage had not worked out. She would go on smoking and insisted on carrying on working. But what he missed was her old, unquestioning adoration of him.
“Here we are at last,” said Agatha. “Of course, with my bloody luck, he’ll be out working. Let’s try the basement. Yes, the name on the door is Davent.” She rang the bell.
The door was opened by a small, blond woman with a discontented face. Agatha guessed she was in her late thirties.
“I don’t want encyclopaedias, I’ve got double glazing and I don’t believe in God,” she said harshly.
Agatha rapidly introduced herself. “I was hoping to talk to Mr. Davent.”
“I’m his sister, Freda. If you want to ask him about the bitch from hell, you’ll find him at his shop, Computing Plus, on
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