Dishing the Dirt

“He said it was odd that we weren’t getting any information from the police. He said we should try to find out something ourselves. He said it would put my mind at rest. He’s a good boy and he loves his dad.” Mr. Nichols raised his glass and took a large swallow of whisky.

His eyes filled with tears. “I wish I could have my Ruby back again.”

They took their leave. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Agatha,” said Charles. “Look, Ruby was garroted right after that message from Simon. That drunk in there is so advanced in alcoholism that he lives in a world of fantasy.”

“Maybe he could have thought that if he couldn’t have her, he would make sure no one else could,” said Agatha.

“Did you have anyone else checking up on him?”

“I asked Simon to look into it.”

Agatha phoned Simon. “Nichols is ex–Special Forces,” he said. “You know, SAS, and they keep quiet about details.”

When Agatha told Charles, he said, “That paints a different picture. He’d certainly know how to bump her off. But he’s probably been sunk in booze for so long, I can’t see him moving away from the chair and whisky bottle. Justin didn’t say anything, but I doubt if Mr. Nichols had that job of his for a while.”

*

When they were back in Agatha’s cottage, Charles helped himself to a drink and moved out into the garden, followed by the cats. Agatha sat down at her computer and began to read everything on the murders.

After an hour, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” called Charles. “I ordered Chinese food.”

Agatha realised she was very hungry and followed him through to the kitchen, where he was placing containers on the kitchen table. “Dig in,” he said. “I feel like beer. Got any?”

“No, but there’s a bottle of white wine in the fridge.”

They ate companionably, until Agatha suddenly put down her chopsticks and stared at him.

“Let’s think about Justin,” she said.

“Why?”

“Even as a child, he complained constantly about her. He must have wanted to be rid of her. What if he hated her?”

“Now there’s a flight of fancy,” said Charles. “Okay. I’ll go along with it. Why wait so long?”

“It’s a great opportunity,” said Agatha. “Murders all over the place, one of them in Oxford. She’s one of the investigating officers. What better time to bump her off? No one is going to look in his direction.”

“But he hired you.”

“What better way to find out what we know? What better way to feel manipulative power? I’ll phone Simon and get him to dig up what he can on Justin.”

“He’ll have gone home.”

“A bit of overtime never hurt anyone,” said Agatha.

She rang Simon. “You should ask Toni,” he said.

“Are you being lazy or what?” asked Agatha.

“It’s just that he came up to the office and he and Toni started chatting. Then he asked her out to dinner and a movie and she said yes.”

“What movie?”

“Rerun of Gigi at the Arts Cinema.”

When Agatha rang off, she stared at Charles in consternation as she told him the news.

“You’re getting carried away,” said Charles. “He’s young and beautiful and so is she.”

“I don’t like this,” said Agatha. “I’m going to hunt them down.”

*

When Agatha entered the cinema, the film was nearly over. She blundered down in the darkness, shining a pencil torch on the faces of the audience, deaf to complaints.

She located them, sitting in the middle of a row halfway down. She found one empty seat behind them, feeling suddenly stupid. She was just thinking of getting up and leaving, when Toni turned round and saw her.