As the Pig Turns

Chapter Twelve



Toni was just about to leave her flat when she was confronted by Alice Peterson. ‘You’re to come with me to headquarters,’ she said. ‘Get in the car.’

‘What’s up?’ asked Toni.

‘You’ll find out when we get there,’ was all Alice would say.

‘I thought it was only on TV that detectives refused to answer questions. Is Agatha all right and everyone at the agency?’

‘Yes.’

‘And James and Charles?’

‘Yes.’

Toni worried and worried until she was at last in an interviewing room faced by Wilkes, Bill Wong and a policeman standing guard by the door.

Wilkes started the tape and then began. ‘Simon Black is in hospital in intensive care.’

‘What happened?’

‘He was employed by Mixden’s detective agency. We got a warrant to search his flat, and there on his computer was a full report of everything you had told him about Mrs Raisin’s suspicions that the murderer might be some policeman. The report was ready to be sent to Mixden.’

‘I once applied for a job there,’ said Toni, ‘but Mixden wanted me to spy on Agatha’s agency for him. Oh, what on earth has Simon been up to? Will he live? Was he shot?’

‘No, he was stabbed at the fairground and left to die inside the Haunted House. If he hadn’t fallen forward across a couple, he would be dead by now. He lost a lot of blood. But the stab wound appears to have missed anything vital. We are waiting for him to come round.’

‘He told me he was unemployed!’ said Toni, tears standing out in her eyes. ‘I’ve been such a fool.’

‘In your discussions, did he name anyone he suspected?’

‘No. I would have told Agatha.’

The questioning went on. Bill was sorry for Toni. Wilkes all but accused her of having an affair with Simon. Bill often wondered how pretty Toni could manage to maintain her air of innocence, considering the work she did and the things she had seen. He wondered if she was still a virgin. Maybe there were some left in this wicked day and age.

Toni was finally read out a statement and asked to sign it.

When she had left, Bill said, ‘You were a bit hard on her, sir.’

‘I am sick and tired of Agatha Raisin and her employees interfering with police work,’ said Wilkes.

‘But it looks as if Mrs Raisin’s seemingly mad leap of intuition is going to be proved right.’

‘Who was on holiday at the time Chelsea was taken in Las Vegas?’

‘Just . . . Oh, what is it?’

The policeman at the door who had been talking to someone outside said urgently, ‘I think you’d better hear this, sir. There’s a chap out in reception.’

‘Better be good,’ snarled Wilkes. Both he and Bill were suffering from lack of sleep.

Wilfred Butterfield rose to meet them as they walked into the reception area. He burst out with ‘As soon as I saw his photo on the telly, I knew it was my duty to come forward.’

‘Do you mean Simon Black?’

‘Yes, he called at our showroom in Birmingham. He said he worked for the Agatha Raisin Detective Agency. He showed me his card.’

‘And you are . . . ?’

‘Wilfred Butterfield. Car salesman at Class Cars.’

‘You’d better come with us and make a statement.’

In the interview room so recently vacated by Toni, Wilfred poured out his story, omitting any mention of the money Simon had given him.

When he had finished, Wilkes said, ‘Now let’s get this straight. The man you described to Simon was thickset and had a Scottish accent.’

‘Yes.’

There’s only one here answers to that description, thought Wilkes, and that’s Sergeant Tulloch. ‘Oh, now what is it?’

He left the room and came back, his face grimmer than ever. ‘Detective Sergeant Wong will get you to sign a statement. Thank you for coming forward. Please keep this information from the press.’

Followed by Wilfred’s fervent assurances, he left the room.

He was met by the desk policeman who had been on duty the night before. He listened to the tale of how Simon had asked for Bill Wong. Had been told he was out and had then said he would wait. Simon had studied the police photographs and then had pointed to one and asked if that was Henry James. The policeman had said it was Sergeant Tulloch and Simon had decided not to wait.

A search started for Tulloch. They were told it was his day off. Armed with a warrant, Bill, Wilkes, Alice and a squad of policemen descended on Tulloch’s flat. There was no answer. Wilkes nodded and stood aside while the door was rammed open.

The small flat was empty. Wilkes put a call out for all airports and train stations to be watched along with the licence plate of Tulloch’s bike. He then waited out in the car while a team from Scenes of Crimes Operatives arrived to search the flat.

Toni went straight to the hospital as soon as she left police headquarters. She found Agatha in the waiting room. A little way away from her sat Simon’s parents.

‘I’m sorry, Agatha,’ she whispered.

Agatha shrugged. ‘I’ve already endured a session with the police at dawn. So Simon was prepared to spy on us for Mixden’s? Well. Whatever he found out nearly killed him. What a waste of a bright young man. Don’t blame yourself, Toni. That one could have fooled me as well. Oh, here comes the surgeon.’

They watched anxiously and then saw smiles of relief on Simon’s parents’ faces. Wilkes and another detective they did not recognize arrived.

‘You pair,’ said Wilkes. ‘There’s no use waiting. Police and family only.’

‘I know. Let’s phone Patrick,’ said Agatha. ‘I bet he’s learned something.’

They went to a café across the road where there were tables outside. Agatha ordered coffees for both of them, lit a cigarette and phoned Patrick.

Toni waited impatiently until Agatha had rung off. ‘The culprit appears to be a Sergeant Billy Tulloch. Either he was working with Beech or he took over when Beech left off. But he was working for someone or some gang. I hate being outside it all. There’s nothing we can do but wait. For some reason, Simon visited a car salesroom in Birmingham and found out that someone of Tulloch’s description had been asking about posh cars. Patrick says Staikov’s place has been thoroughly checked and all his trucks as well. There’s nothing more we can do today, and I need some sleep. I think you should stay with me tonight, Toni. My place is well guarded.’

Toni hesitated only a moment. She thought of poor Simon, left to die in that horrible way. ‘Yes, thanks. I’ll go home and pack a bag.’

Toni was relieved to find Charles waiting outside Agatha’s cottage in his car. She found undiluted Agatha rather overwhelming.

Over coffees, Charles listened to all the latest news. ‘I wonder what took Simon to that car showroom,’ said Charles. ‘Do you think Mixden knows more than he ought?’

‘I think it was a leap of intuition,’ said Toni. ‘He probably tried to figure out what a copper with a lot of money that he couldn’t splash about would think of doing with it.’

‘Patrick says that Tulloch wasn’t due any holiday, just a few days off. That’s probably why he went to Las Vegas.’

‘We’ve been concentrating on Staikov because his father is Bulgarian,’ said Agatha. ‘But what other firm has trucks going abroad?’

‘Richards!’ said Toni.

‘He’s stocking cheap leather jackets. He didn’t need to get them from Staikov. I’m sure his trucks go abroad for fruit and veg as well. There are always protests in the local papers about supermarkets stocking foreign produce and ignoring the homegrown stuff.’

There was a ring at the doorbell. ‘I’ll go,’ said Charles. He looked through the spy hole. ‘It’s Wilkes.’

‘Let him in,’ groaned Agatha. ‘What’s happened now?’

But Wilkes had come to deliver a lecture. He believed in solid police procedure and felt Agatha’s and Simon’s wild flights of intuition were somehow cluttering up the investigation. In vain did Agatha point out that if it hadn’t been for Simon, they would never have found out about Tulloch. She was told firmly that from now on, she and her staff were to leave matters strictly to the police.

When he had gone, Toni said, ‘We should have told him about our suspicions of Richards.’

‘I tell you what,’ said Agatha angrily, ‘I’m tired of that pompous twat treating me like a schoolgirl. I’ll show him.’

‘How?’ asked Charles.

‘We’ll all go to bed and have a good rest, and then we’ll follow one of Richards’ trucks and see where it goes.’

‘I’ll see if James is at home,’ said Charles. ‘He’s more of the derring-do type than I am.’

But Charles returned shortly to say that James was not at home. ‘Oh, well,’ he said reluctantly, ‘I’d better go with you. If I were you, Agatha, I’d phone up Doris and ask her to come and collect your cats.’

‘Why?’

‘I think what you are proposing is dangerous. Anyone who could employ a vicious psycho like Tulloch might make sure you don’t stay alive.’

They decided to tail one of the trucks during daylight, when there would be plenty of traffic on the road.

Agatha had recently bought a Mercedes, and they elected to use that, as Charles had a penchant for buying the cheapest secondhand car he could find.

They waited outside Richards Supermarket until they saw one of his large trucks move out. Charles was driving the Mercedes.

‘If it’s going to call in at local farms to pick up milk and stuff, we’ll have wasted a day,’ he said.

But the truck rolled steadily southward. ‘He’s taking the Dover road,’ said Agatha excitedly. ‘If they take the ferry, we’d better stay in the car.’

But before Dover, the truck swung off the main road. ‘The traffic’s thinner here,’ said Charles. ‘I’d better hang back a bit. We’re right in the open countryside. Look, they’re pulling into that lay-by. I’d better go on past, park somewhere and walk back and try to spy out what they’re doing.’

He drove on and parked up a farm track under a stand of trees. ‘There was a hedge opposite that lay-by,’ he said. ‘If we cross over into that field opposite and make our way back, we should be able to see what’s going on.’

Soon they were huddled behind the hedge. Several very tough-looking men had descended from the truck and were sitting beside the road, drinking coffee out of flasks and eating sandwiches. Agatha’s stomach gave such a loud rumble, she was frightened they would hear it.

The day dragged on. The driver then got into the cab, but instead of starting up the engine, he settled himself down to sleep. The others climbed into the back of the truck, and then all was silence.

‘There must be something up,’ whispered Toni. ‘I mean, what are they waiting for?’

The sun finally descended slowly down the sky. Charles was asleep, and Toni felt her eyes drooping. Only Agatha, smarting over Wilkes’s lecture, kept her eyes fastened avidly on the truck.

At last she nudged Charles awake. ‘I can hear a car coming,’ she whispered. ‘Keep down!’

Headlights cut through the night. A car came to a halt. A man got out and banged on the doors of the truck.

‘Who is it?’ asked Toni.

The man moved into the headlights of his car. ‘It’s Richards,’ said Agatha excitedly.

Tom Richards spoke to the driver. The truck moved off slowly. Richards got into his car and followed.

‘Let them get away and we’ll try to catch up with them,’ said Charles. ‘I’ll need to drive without the headlights on in case they see us.’

As they drove off as slowly and quietly as they could, Agatha muttered, ‘Can’t you go any faster? They could be anywhere.’

‘They might stop suddenly and hear our engine,’ said Charles. ‘Look, I can see their lights in the distance. They’ve gone up that country lane. I’ll follow as far as I dare.’

A large barn loomed up against the night sky and the truck, and Richards stopped outside it.

‘Agatha,’ said Charles, ‘before we go any further, wouldn’t it be an idea to phone the police? These are stone hard killers and psychos. Think what they did to Beech.’

‘Just a look,’ pleaded Agatha, ‘and then we’ll phone if there’s anything.’

They got out of the car and made their way silently towards the barn. Agatha suddenly stopped in her tracks. ‘I’ve got to pee.’

‘Then pee and follow us,’ said Charles crossly. ‘Couldn’t you have gone all that time we were waiting behind that bloody hedge? Oh, go on.’

‘Wait for me,’ pleaded Agatha.

‘I’m bored,’ said Charles. ‘I’m going to take one look and then we’re off.’

He and Toni crept forward, dropping down on to the grass and wriggling forward. The barn doors were open and light was streaming out.

Charles managed to get one look inside. ‘It’s a lab,’ he whispered. ‘They must be making drugs.’

And then he and Toni were seized. Toni let out a scream. Agatha, hitching up her knickers, turned and ran back to the car. She desperately phoned the police, babbling instructions.

‘How did you find us?’ Richards was demanding as Toni and Charles were held captive by three men.

‘Won’t answer, eh? Boris, get the acetylene torch and scorch that pretty face. She’ll tell us soon enough.’

‘It was my idea,’ said Charles. ‘The police know nothing about it.’

‘Well, you’re going to find out what happens to snoops. Burn her face off, Boris.’ Charles tried to tear himself free but was held firm.

Boris advanced with the torch.

‘Someone’s coming!’ cried Richards.

Agatha Raisin, crouched over the wheel of the Mercedes, crashed straight into the barn and right into Boris. Chemicals, glass jars and retorts went flying. She swerved and gunned the car at Richards, who leapt out of the way, but not before she had sideswiped him and broken his leg. ‘Shoot her!’ he shouted.

Flames were beginning to flare up all round. His men were running outside for the truck.

Charles and Toni jumped into the car. Agatha reversed straight out, but the truck was driving off. ‘We’ve got to get Richards out of there,’ shouted Charles.

Agatha stopped. Charles ran back in and pulled Richards, who was screaming with pain, out of the inferno. His clothes were on fire, and Charles rolled him over in the grass until the flames went out.

Suddenly, there was a helicopter overhead and police sirens in the distance.

Richards had fallen unconscious. Agatha and Toni got out of the car and joined him. Toni sat down and put her head between her knees. ‘They were going to burn her face off, Agatha,’ said Charles.

Agatha sat white-faced, staring at Toni, cursing herself for her vanity that had nearly led the girl to a nasty death.

Then they were surrounded by police, ambulances and fire engines.

Richards was taken off in an ambulance and under police guard. His gang had been caught. Agatha wanted Toni to be taken to hospital to be treated for shock, but Toni refused to go.

Then they were taken off to police headquarters in Dover to be questioned before being transferred to a ‘safe’ house to face further questioning in the morning.

The ‘safe’ house fortunately contained nightwear and changes of clothes. They huddled together on the sofa in the small living room. Charles got up and went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of whisky. ‘Look what I’ve found.’

‘Toni needs hot sweet tea,’ admonished Agatha.

‘Toni needs to get drunk,’ said Toni in a weary voice.

‘So it was drugs all along,’ said Agatha at last.

‘And farm machinery and cars, probably,’ said Charles. ‘Tulloch wasn’t around. I hate to think of that psycho still being on the loose.’

Toni shuddered, and Agatha said quickly, ‘They probably got rid of him. Once he was blown, he became expendable. Let’s go to bed.’

During the night, Agatha woke up and found Charles in bed next to her.

‘What the . . . ?’

‘Just shut up and go to sleep.’ He put his arms around her. Agatha drifted back off to sleep into a world of nightmares, haunted by a picture of beautiful Toni’s ruined face.

A policeman who had been on guard outside the door knocked in the morning and asked them if they would like breakfast. ‘We’d better eat something,’ said Agatha.

‘There’s a McDonald’s next door.’

‘Couldn’t he do better than that?’ grumbled Agatha.

‘Nothing up with McDonald’s,’ said Charles. ‘I’m starving.’

They had just finished eating when they were told they were being escorted back to Mircester.

‘More questioning,’ groaned Agatha. ‘What about my car?’

‘You’ll need to contact your insurance company. Part of the blazing barn fell on it. It’s a write-off.’

The three of them were interviewed separately. Toni was interviewed by Bill Wong and Alice Peterson. Somehow, as they were very gentle with her, she found it therapeutic to go through her whole story again.

When she had finished and signed her statement, Bill said, ‘You really must go to Victim Support.’

‘I’m all right now,’ said Toni.

‘I still think you are suffering from delayed shock,’ said Alice. ‘Let me make an appointment for you.’

‘Very well,’ said Toni, feeling she would have agreed to anything just to get out of police headquarters and back to her own little flat.

Agatha and Charles met up in the reception area. ‘I need a shower and scrub,’ said Agatha. ‘Toni’s evidently gone to her flat. Should we go and pick her up?’

‘I think she’ll want to be on her own for a bit,’ said Charles. ‘I couldn’t get anything out of them. Has Tulloch been found?’

‘Wilkes told me they’re still looking for him. I don’t like it. What if that psycho decides to take revenge on one of us?’

‘I think he’s probably long gone,’ said Charles, stifling a yawn.

‘I should call the hospital,’ said Agatha, ‘and find out how Simon is getting on. I wonder if I should reemploy him.’

‘What! You must be mad. He was spying for Mixden.’

‘I know, I know. But look at it this way. Us amateurs have none of the resources of the police. What policeman would have the imagination to figure out what a man with a lot of money he had to keep hidden would do? Who else would think about his longing for a posh car?’

‘See what Toni thinks of the idea,’ said Charles.

‘I’m not going to do anything about it now. I’ve got to phone my car insurance and get a courtesy car. Shall we ask the coppers to drive us back?’

‘I’m sick of them,’ said Charles. ‘Let’s take a taxi.’

At Agatha’s cottage, Charles said he would go home and maybe see her later. As she watched him drive away, Agatha felt strangely bereft and then gave herself a mental shake. Charles was like a will-o’-the-wisp, coming and going, never dependable.

Her cleaner arrived with Agatha’s cats, who studiously ignored her and waited by the garden door to be let out. ‘You should get a cat flap,’ said Doris.

‘What if some intruder uses it to crawl in?’

‘Nobody would be that skinny enough.’

‘Well, they could shove a petrol bomb through it.’

‘They could do that through the letterbox.’

‘You’re a barrel of laughs this morning,’ said Agatha, and burst into tears.

Doris looked at her in shock and then hugged her. ‘I’m getting Mrs Bloxby here right now.’

Mrs Bloxby was shocked at Agatha’s appearance. Usually Agatha was an advertisement for the saying that the fifties were the new forties, but she was white-faced and haggard.

After a cup of hot sweet tea laced with brandy, and two cigarettes, Agatha began to recover. ‘I’ve never seen you wearing a tracksuit before,’ said Mrs Bloxby.

‘Police supply from their safe house in Dover.’

‘I heard about it on the morning news. Of course, not much came out because of the impending court case. Tell me about it.’

Mrs Bloxby listened in horror to Agatha’s tale.

‘Where is Toni?’ she asked.

‘Back at her flat.’

‘And this Tulloch is still at liberty! I’m going to Mircester to get her right away.’

Charles arrived home to be told by his man Gustav that Penny Dunstable was in the sitting room. Penny was one of Charles’s old flames. Gustav privately thought that if he did not get Charles married off to someone suitable, then one day that Raisin female might be in residence.

Penny rose to meet him. She was tall and rangy, with square hunting shoulders, thick brown hair and a long face. Charles remembered she had been an enthusiastic lover.

‘I’m done in,’ said Charles. ‘Darling Penny. Wrong day for a visit. I’m going to bed.’

‘Good idea,’ said Penny huskily.

Sex, thought Charles. Lots of it. Just what the doctor ordered. Then a vision of Agatha’s sad white face watching him as he left rose before his eyes. Damn Agatha.

‘Sorry, darling,’ he said. ‘I’m knackered. Another time.’

He walked away quickly. Gustav started to follow him up the stairs. Charles swung round. ‘I can put myself to bed, thank you. You invited her, didn’t you?’

‘I met Miss Dunstable at the farmer’s market and thought you would be glad to see her.’

‘Not now,’ said Charles. ‘Give her a drink and get rid of her.’

Toni answered the door to Mrs Bloxby and meekly accepted an invitation to stay at the rectory. Mrs Bloxby helped her pack. ‘I’m supposed to get a call from Victim Support,’ said Toni.

‘Did you give the police your mobile phone number as well?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then they’ll be able to find you. Before you leave, wouldn’t you much rather be with your mother?’

‘She did call, but she’s just got a new job. I told her I would be all right and that I might see her at the weekend.’

When they got into Mrs Bloxby’s ancient Morris Minor, the vicar’s wife looked in the rearview mirror before she drove off. If only the police would come through with the news that Tulloch had been found.

She heaved a sigh of relief when she finally turned down into the tree-lined road leading to Carsely. There were no cars behind her.

Once at the vicarage, she told Toni to go and find a seat in the garden. Toni stretched out in a deck chair and felt the warm sun on her face. The peace of the vicarage garden enclosed her.

Soon she was asleep.

That evening, Agatha sealed her letterbox shut with super-glue, knowing the postman would leave any letters for her at the village store. She tried to phone Charles, but Gustav told her he wasn’t available; but then that was what Gustav always said.

She went up to the landing and looked longingly at James’s cottage, but no light showed and his car was not parked outside.

The doorbell rang, making her jump nervously. She went down the stairs and looked through the spy hole. Bill Wong’s face stared back. Agatha opened the door.

‘Come in. Has he been caught?’

‘Who?’

‘Tulloch, of course.’

‘We’re working on that. We might get one of the gang to talk soon. One of them seems weaker than the others. We’re hoping to hear that Richards got rid of him. We’re winding up the whole business. Imagine having a successful chain of supermarkets and that not being enough. The drug lab was to be a new venture, all set up to make crystal meth, as far as forensics could gather from the burnt-out remains. Where is Toni?’

‘Staying with Mrs Bloxby.’

‘The best thing she could do.’

‘She would have been quite safe with me,’ said Agatha huffily.

‘Let’s hope you’re not in any danger,’ said Bill, looking at the bars on the kitchen window.

Agatha followed his gaze and said bitterly, ‘I’m in a sort of prison when Tulloch may be out there, roaming free. Hey, what about Fiona Richards? Did she know anything about all this?’

‘She denies it vehemently and tearfully. All she can wonder about is what is going to happen to her previously expensive lifestyle.’

‘And is Richards really the head of things?’

‘Before his ambition to join the drug market, it was pinching cars and expensive farm machinery and shipping it to Eastern Europe. Among the men we picked up, there were two Albanians, one Kurd, and I regret to say two residents of Mircester, the latter both having spent time in prison in the past for grievous bodily harm.’

Bill’s phone rang. He walked out of the kitchen to answer it. When he came back, his face was grim. ‘One of the gang has started to sing. He says that Beech would earn money by telling Richards which combine harvesters were left out on the fields and where to pick up expensive cars. Maybe the P in his ledger was for Porsche. He also tipped Richards off when it looked as if one of the gang might be under suspicion and managed to ‘lose’ the evidence. But he felt he wasn’t getting enough and started to blackmail Richards. Richards ordered a man called Boris Ahmid and one of the Englishmen, Marty Gifford, to deal with Beech in such a way as to frighten off anyone else who might want to play the same trick. The roast pig idea was Boris’s. The missing feet and arms have been found in a freezer at the back of the main supermarket store in Mircester.’

‘Wouldn’t one of the staff have found them?’

‘It was a padlocked freezer. Richards is a sick and vicious man. The rest of his gang are soon going to turn against him when they learn he’s going to plead that they threatened him into doing their dirty work.’

‘And when did Tulloch enter the picture?’

‘I think shortly after Beech’s murder. He’s a compulsive gambler and owed money to a loan shark. Richards heard about it through the loan shark. We believe Tulloch drugged himself outside Agatha’s cottage to divert suspicion from himself.

‘Tulloch killed Amy Richards. She was about to take over the blackmailing. How on earth the silly woman thought she could get away with it is beyond me.’

‘But what is Tulloch’s record?’

‘Seemed straightforward copper until we started digging. His wife called us out one night. She had been beaten. Two broken ribs. Then she withdrew the charge. But it left a nasty taste in the mouth. He divorced her a few months later. He was transferred to us from Manchester. Now, before he left Manchester there had been a series of brutal, sadistic murders of prostitutes. After he left, nothing. Makes you think.’

Simon could not sleep that night. He was recovering rapidly, but not in spirit. He had never felt so low or so shamed in all his life. He was sure the army had seen through his fake post-traumatic stress but after his treatment of Sue had decided it would be better just to get rid of him. His parents knew all about his spying for Mixden and looked at him sadly, as if they could not believe they had created such a monster.

There had been a police guard outside his door, but when he had been considered strong enough to move to a general ward, the police guard had been taken off. The fact that his parents had not seen fit to pay for a private room for him had shaken him.

Sometimes, in his lowest moments, he began to wish he really had died. And yet it was his fear of Tulloch returning to finish the job that kept him alert, had made him refuse the sleeping pills.

The other patients did not talk to him. He had heard one say, ‘He’s probably a criminal.’

He was thankful he now had enough strength to go to the bathroom himself without enduring the indignity of ringing for a bedpan. He emerged from the bathroom and hesitated, wondering whether to see if he could get any food from the kitchen. Soup and a sandwich had been served at six o’clock in the evening, and he knew he could not expect more food until the following morning. The night nurse was not at her desk. He managed to find a small kitchen outside the ward and made himself a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich. Beginning to feel a bit weak and shaky, he cautiously emerged from the kitchen to make his way back to his bed. In front of him was what looked at first like a hospital orderly pushing a trolley of medicine. The orderly stopped outside Simon’s ward, selected a syringe and filled it. Simon began to shake with fear. There was something horribly familiar about that burly figure with the fair hair. He retreated slowly and then began to run until he reached the main desk, crying, ‘Get the police. It’s Tulloch. He’s trying to murder me!’

Soon the hospital was surrounded. In the abandoned cart, they found a syringe full of cyanide. Bill Wong, hurrying to the hospital, wondered if he would ever get a decent night’s sleep again. But Tulloch – and it must have been Tulloch, for who else would want to kill Simon? – had disappeared.

Simon was once more removed to a private room with a policeman on guard outside. He had a sudden longing for the abrasive person of Agatha Raisin.

Agatha was awakened by the shrill ringing of the phone by her bedside. She squinted at the clock. Three in the morning? She picked up the phone.

‘It’s me, Simon,’ the voice on the other end whispered. ‘Don’t hang up.’

‘What do you want, you sneaky little toad?’ demanded Agatha.

‘Tulloch’s been here at the hospital.’ He rapidly told her what had happened, ending up by saying, ‘I need to see you.’

‘God knows why,’ said Agatha acidly. ‘Look, you’re no longer in intensive care, I gather. So I’ll be along in the morning when they allow visitors.’

She slept uneasily for the rest of the night. Every rustle in the thatched roof made her think of Tulloch crawling up there; every creak from the old timbers made her think he was trying to find a way in.

I have never been this frightened for so long, thought Agatha miserably. Oh, for the boring life of lost teenagers and cats back again. I swear I’ll never complain.

Agatha took her time getting to the hospital. She went to Achille in Evesham to get her hair done before going to see Simon.

Simon saw her approach through the open door of his room and called to the policeman on guard to let her in.

‘Glad to see you’re looking stronger,’ said Agatha gruffly. ‘But I can now tell you, you are one sneaky piece of work.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Simon. His thick hair was ruffled up, and he looked very young. ‘The fact is I’m terrified. Every doctor who enters the room makes me shiver. It’s going to be one horror of a night ahead.’

‘How did you leap to the conclusion that one bent copper would try to buy an expensive car?’ asked Agatha.

‘It’s the sort of thing I thought he might do. Most chaps who win the lottery, well, the first thing they want is a flashy car.’

Boys and their toys, thought Agatha. ‘If only we could catch him,’ she said, half to herself. ‘He’s one mad psycho.’

‘I’ve an awful feeling he’ll try again,’ said Simon.

Agatha looked at him thoughtfully. She was tired of the police treating her like a bumbling amateur when they wouldn’t even have found the drugs factory if it hadn’t been for her.

‘I see you’ve got a private bathroom,’ she said.

‘Want to use it?’

‘No, not now. See, it’s like this. All Tulloch has to do to get at you again is put on a white coat and look like a doctor.’

‘There’s a police guard outside.’

‘That wouldn’t matter if Tulloch disguises himself a bit, pinches some doctor’s outfit and name tag. Quick stab in your arm with a syringe and it’s goodbye, Simon, hello, psycho.’

‘I wish you hadn’t come,’ said Simon. ‘I didn’t think it was possible to be any more frightened than I am, but you’ve just proved it’s possible.’

‘Listen! I’ll come back here towards the end of visiting hours. You distract the copper by calling him to the window and saying you thought you saw Tulloch outside in the grounds. I’ll nip into the bathroom and stay there for the night on guard.’

‘Agatha! Tulloch is as strong as an ox. You’d never be able to overpower him, and he’d probably have dealt with that poor policeman.’

‘Don’t you worry about that.’

‘You’re crazy!’

‘Then lie there and tremble for all I care.’

‘Okay,’ said Simon reluctantly. ‘I can do with all the protection I can get.’

Agatha went from the hospital to her office. She did not plan to tell any of them or Charles of her plans. If anyone was going to be put in danger, then it would be herself.

Toni was still resting at the vicarage. She gave Phil and Patrick a few jobs to clear up, dictated letters to Mrs Freedman and then said she felt a bit shaky and would go home and rest.

Just before the end of visiting hours, she arrived carrying a large bag containing two flasks of coffee and a packet of sandwiches. At her signal, Simon called to the policeman that he thought he had just seen Tulloch. The policeman came rushing in to join him at the window, and Agatha nipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Simon came in later to clean his teeth. ‘It may have backfired. All that happened was that there were police all over the hospital for most of the evening.’

‘There are four police guards at the entrance,’ said Agatha.

‘Good,’ said Simon. ‘Now, I have to pee.’

‘I’ll turn my back and promise not to peek,’ said Agatha, ‘and keep your voice down.’

The night wore on. Agatha drank cup after cup of coffee, willing herself to stay awake. Sometimes she could hear footsteps in the corridor outside and stiffened, waiting. She longed to be able to go outside and check if the policeman was still alert and on guard. There should have been two of them, she thought. What if he wanted to go to the loo? Her heart sank. The intelligent thing would be to use the loo in Simon’s bathroom.

Her eyes were just beginning to droop when she heard voices outside. She opened the bathroom door a crack.

‘Thought you’d never get here,’ she heard what she recognized as the policeman’s voice say. ‘I’m knackered. Don’t recognize you. You’re not from headquarters.’

‘Over from Worcester,’ she heard another voice say. ‘They’re drafting us in from all over.’

Agatha trembled. Didn’t that new voice have a slight Scottish burr?

Simon was fast asleep. How could he sleep in the middle of all this? thought Agatha angrily.

She kept the door open a crack. A man in police uniform was cautiously approaching the bed where Simon lay. And then, horrified, Agatha saw the glimpse of a syringe in his hand. She seized a porcelain bedpan and crept up behind him. As he gently pulled up the sleeve of Simon’s hospital nightgown, Agatha smashed the bedpan down on the back of his head.

Simon woke up with a scream. Agatha bent down and heaved the now unconscious man over. Tulloch! Footsteps could be heard racing along the corridor, and suddenly the room was full of policemen.

‘It’s Tulloch!’ said Agatha. ‘I hope I haven’t killed him.’

Tulloch groaned and tried to sit up. A hospital trolley was brought in, and he was handcuffed to it and wheeled away for treatment.

It transpired that the policeman who had left thinking his tour of duty was over had told the police at the entrance to the hospital that he had been replaced by a man from Worcester. He was told he was supposed to be replaced by a policeman from Mircester, and they had all rushed back up to Simon’s room in time to find Agatha holding a bedpan and Tulloch on the floor.