by M C Beaton
Agatha let out a gasp. It was a scene of chaos. Papers were scattered everywhere. Drawers hung open at crazy angles. A filing cabinet had been knocked over onto the floor. She backed slowly out, took out her phone and called the police. Then she went outside to wait.
The cobbled lane was very quiet.
After only five minutes, a police car rolled to a stop and two policemen got out. Agatha quickly told them who she was, why she had called and what she had found. The police called it in. Another wait while two detectives arrived. Agatha had to make her statement again and was told to wait until a forensic team arrived.
The day was becoming darker and a damp gusty wind promised rain. Agatha retreated to her car and lit a cigarette, noticing that her fingers were shaking. Where was Clive? What had happened to him? She felt in need of support. Agatha noticed that neighbours were emerging from the surrounding houses. She phoned Toni and asked her to join her, saying, “Pretend to be a curious onlooker and question the neighbours before you come and talk to me.”
A forensic team arrived and suited up before going into the office. The morning dragged on. At last Toni arrived and Agatha could see her questioning the neighbours. Then Toni finally walked off and disappeared around the corner into Walton Street Agatha fretted. Where on earth was she going?
After ten minutes, Toni returned, carrying a large brown paper bag. She slid into the passenger seat of Agatha’s car.
“Coffee and sticky buns,” said Toni, opening the bag.
“You’re an angel. What did you get from the neighbours?”
“Not much. He lived upstairs.”
“Oh, snakes and bastards!” howled Agatha. “I didn’t even think to have a look. He could be lying dead up there.”
“Don’t think so. No ambulance. Have a bun.”
“Ta. So what else?”
“Didn’t speak to the neighbours. His clients mostly called in the evenings. Yesterday evening, one young woman, blond, slim, that’s all of the description.”
“Could be you,” said Agatha gloomily.
“Two men at different intervals, both looking like middle-aged businessmen, one tall and thin and the other small and tubby. Not much to go on.”
“I should have looked for a client list,” mourned Agatha, “instead of rushing out to phone the police. But you know how it is, one fingerprint and they’d haul me in for breaking and entering. I’ll come back when things have quietened down and try the next-door neighbours. The police are already knocking at doors.”
“That’s why I couldn’t try them myself,” said Toni. “All I could do was to pretend to be one of the crowd. Have another bun. They’re very comforting.”
“Oh, well, why not?”
There came a rapping on Agatha’s window. The detective who had interviewed her earlier, said, “You are to come with me to Thames Valley Police to be interviewed. Leave your car here. An officer will drive you back. Who is this young lady?”
Oh, what is was to be young and beautiful, thought Agatha grumpily. The man’s practically leering.
“Miss Toni Gilmour,” said Agatha. “One of my detectives.”
“She’s better come with you. I don’t want anyone messing up this crime scene.”
* * *
Agatha made her statement again to a refreshingly young and efficient female detective. She was just about to leave when the ax fell. She was told that she had to recover her car and then drive to Mircester police headquarters and make another statement and Agatha knew that Wilkes’s idea of an interview could run into hours.
There was no sign of Toni. Agatha got into her car and phoned her.
“I got chased away,” said Toni. “I’ll come back his evening, if you like.”
“Let me think about that. Do you know if they’ve found Clive?”
“Not a sign of him. A friendly policeman told me his flat was empty before he got reprimanded.”
“I hope to God he’s all right,” said Agatha. “I’ve got to go to Mircester to make another statement. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Agatha knew the rush-hour traffic would be building up and so she decided to drive to the Botley road and exit Oxford by the ring road.
But as she got to the bottom of Beaufort Street, the traffic slowed to a stop and she could see police erecting a barrier.
She swung off into the Gloucester Green car park and then made her way on foot to the barrier. “I must get past,” she said to a policeman on duty. “My train’s about to leave,” she lied, quickly thinking of an excuse to find out what had happened.
“All right. But keep clear of the police activity on the canal bridge. There are enough rubberneckers there already.”
Agatha hurried down Worcester Street to Hythe Bridge Street. “What’s up?” Agatha asked a man.
“Body in the canal,” he said.
With a feeling of dread, Agatha elbowed her way to the front, ignoring angry protests. A weak sun was gilding the black waters of the canal. As Agatha watched, the sun shone down on the dead face of Clive Tremund as his body was dragged from the water.
She realised that if she was spotted by any detectives who had been at Clive’s house then there would be more questions and so she shoved her way back through the crowd.
About the Author
M. C. BEATON, who was the British guest of honor at Bouchercon 2006, has been hailed as the “Queen of Crime” (The Globe and Mail). In addition to her New York Times and USA Today bestselling Agatha Raisin novels, Beaton is the author of the Hamish Macbeth series and four Edwardian mysteries. Born in Scotland, she currently divides her time between the English Cotswolds and Paris. You can sign up for email updates here.
Author photo by Louise Bowles.
Also by M. C. Beaton
Agatha Raisin
Dishing the Dirt: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Blood of an Englishman: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
Something Borrowed, Someone Dead: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
Hiss and Hers: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
As the Pig Turns: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
Busy Body: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
There Goes the Bride: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
A Spoonful of Poison: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
Kissing Christmas Goodbye: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
Love, Lies and Liquor: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Perfect Paragon: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Deadly Dance: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
Agatha Raisin and the Haunted House
Agatha Raisin and the Case of the Curious Curate
Agatha Raisin and the Day the Floods Came
Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell
Agatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryfram
Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden
Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham
Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death
Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist
Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage
The Walkers of Dembley: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Potted Gardener: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Vicious Vet: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Quiche of Death: An Agatha Raisin Mystery
The Skeleton in the Closet
Edwardian Mystery Series
Our Lady of Pain
Sick of Shadows
Hasty Death
Snobbery with Violence
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Part I
Part II
Preview of Dish
ing the Dirt
About the Author
Other Books by M. C. Beaton
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
AGATHA’S FIRST CASE. Copyright © 2015 by M. C. Beaton. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover designed by Crystal Ben
Cover photographs by Shutterstock
e-ISBN 9781250084316
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First Edition: August 2015