Dishing the Dirt

“She thought the moggies might like to see their home again. I asked her to change the sheets in the spare room. I’d better get her and we can ask her if anyone could have got into the house while you were away.”


Charles came back after a few minutes and led Doris to the bottom of the garden where Simon and Agatha were waiting. Asked if anyone could possibly have got in to bug the house, Doris wrinkled her brow, and then said, “There was only the telephone man. Some time ago it was. He said there was a fault on some of the village phones and they were checking them all. Oh, dear, I went upstairs and left him to it. Big heavyset man with a grey beard and glasses. One of them foreign accents. Could ha’ been Polish.”

“Anyone else?”

“Don’t call anyone to mind. I’m right sorry, Agatha. Didn’t cross my mind there would be anything up with him.”

Agatha turned to Simon. “You’d better start sweeping for bugs. Start with the garden table and chairs.”

They waited anxiously. Having finished with the garden furniture, Simon moved into the house. “Does he know what he’s doing?” asked Charles.

“Yes, I get him to sweep the office from time to time,” said Agatha.

“What puzzles me,” said Charles, “is why you haven’t been bumped off.”

“You’ve forgotten. I was sent a poisonous bouquet.”

“Maybe our murderer was sure you would recognise wolfsbane. If this place is bugged, then he would know you knew what the plant looked like. I think some psycho is playing with you, Agatha.”

“That pseudo telephone man,” said Agatha. “It sounds like someone in disguise. What about Tris Davent? He’s got technical knowledge.”

“You’d better tell the police about this, Aggie.”

“What! And have to sit in that ghastly interview room again?”

“Just phone Bill. The police may have more sophisticated equipment. Still, with any luck, Simon won’t find anything.”

The sky above was turning darker. “I hope he finishes before it rains,” said Doris.

“I’ll phone Bill if Simon finds anything,” said Agatha. “And how many times have I got to tell you not to call me Aggie! Jill’s brother is pretty stocky. Add a false grey beard and glasses and he could be our bugger. An East European accent is easy to fake.”

“‘Bugger’ being a good word to describe the horrible man, whoever he is,” said Charles.

A warm drop of rain fell on Agatha’s nose. “This is all we need,” she said. “Let’s get into the house and not say a word.”

But when they entered, Simon was arranging four tiny bugs on the kitchen table. “All done, I hope,” he said. “One in the phone, one under the computer desk, one behind the bookshelves and one behind your headboard upstairs, Agatha.”

“I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea,” said Doris.

“Forget it. I’d like a gin and tonic,” said Agatha. “Get it for me, Charles, and I’ll phone Bill. He slipped me his mobile number so I won’t need to be trapped by Wilkes.”

Bill said to wait and he would be right over to make another sweep of the cottage.

Charles returned with Agatha’s gin and tonic. She raised her hand to take the glass and Charles noticed that her hand shook. He put the glass down on the table and said gently, “Not getting the shakes, are you? Maybe not a good idea to start on the booze.”

“It’s not that,” said Agatha. “This whole case is creeping me out. Some madman is out there, laughing at me, treating me like an amateur fool. But you’re right, Charles. I am not going to start hitting the bottle. Pour it down the sink and make me a coffee instead. Are you all right, Simon?”

“That’s why Ruby was murdered,” he said wretchedly. “Someone listened in to everything I told you about her.”

“My copies of that ledger!” Agatha jumped to her feet and raced through to her desk and rummaged frantically around. She came back and announced, “It’s gone.”

“So,” said Charles, “the murderer must have got back inside somehow. Let’s ask Doris.” Doris had gone back upstairs. “I’ll get her.”