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At last she was free to go. The others, apart from Charles, had disappeared.
“You look awful,” said Charles. “Rough time?”
“It was grim, He accused me of the murders.”
“Why?”
“He thinks I am a sensation-seeker driven potty by the menopause, and not having any murders here to investigate, decided to manufacture some of my own.”
Charles’s eyes crinkled up with laughter. “That’s fu
“It’s not fu
A secretary came out and told them a car was ready to take them home. They travelled in silence, Agatha thinking that she really must find out who murdered Rose and Harry or she would be damned forever as a madwoman.
At the villa, where the press were fortunately absent, Agatha said she would like to lie down and read.
She tried to concentrate on a novel about the complexities of broken marriages, but finally felt too restless to go on reading.
When she emerged from her room, it was to find that Charles had gone off somewhere. Not wanting to be on her own in the villa, she took her own rented car and drove into Kyrenia and parked behind the post office. She walked down the main street looking at the shops, and then saw the turning to the left where she had first pursued James and met Bilal. She turned along the street, wondering suddenly if Bilal was working at his dry-cleaning and laundry business.
He left his work when he saw her hovering in the doorway. “Mrs. Raisin!” he cried. “I was just trying to call you. How are you?”
“Shattered,” said Agatha.
“It is the terrible business,” said Bilal. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
He placed two chairs and a wooden box to act as a table outside his shop and went to the café next door and came back with a tray on which were two cups of Turkish coffee and two glasses of water.
“The owners have been phoning me and Jackie from Australia,” said Bilal. “They would like Mr. Lacey to call them.”
“I meant to phone you about that. Mr. Lacey has gone to Turkey. If I’m still here after the month’s rent has run out, I’ll pay you for another month.”
“Why has Mr. Lacey gone? I thought none of you was supposed to leave. “
“He just took off,” said Agatha. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Oh, James, how could you? Where are you?
Bilal handed her a clean handkerchief and looked at her sympathetically while she blew her nose, so sympathetically that Agatha found herself telling him everything.
“The police here are very good,” said Bilal. “Just like British police, Mrs. Raisin.”
“Agatha.”
“Agatha, then, why don’t you just take a holiday. I mean swim and see the sights and forget about trying to find out who did it. Your own life seems to be in danger. Just keep away from them all.”
Agatha gave him a watery smile, warmed and comforted by his concern.
“I think I might just take your advice, Bilal.”
“And come to our place one evening for di
“Thank you. And now I really must go.” They both rose.
“It will be all right. It may seem like a nightmare now, but it will be all right, you’ll see.”
Bilal smiled warmly at her, and moved by his friendship, Agatha put her arms round him and hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
And then, as Agatha turned to walk away, she saw Jackie standing a little way away down the street, staring at her, and behind her stood Pamir.
And Agatha blushed, suddenly aware of how that affectionate embrace must look to Pamir, let alone Bilal’s wife. She walked towards them.
“I was just talking to your husband,” she said to Jackie.
“So I saw,” said Jackie drily.
“Looking for me?” Agatha asked Pamir with what she felt was an awful, false guilty brightness.
“No, I was on my way to speak to your landlords. I will call on you later, perhaps.”
Agatha trailed off. Pamir would be confirmed in his suspicions that she was some sort of sex-mad, peculiar female.
Her mind was just begi
And then Trevor came in. At first he did not see Agatha. He asked for a whisky in a hoarse voice and then, turning from the bar with his glass in his hand, he recognized her.
He walked forwards and demanded, “Are you following me?”
“How can I be following you when I was here first?” demanded Agatha.
Now that she had decided to forget about the case, she was dismayed when he sat down next to her. The tables were out in the restaurant garden among the flowers. Sun slanted down through the leaves of a jasmine bush, casting fluttering shadows over Trevor’s pink, bloated face.
“This is a bad business,” he said.
“Yes,” said Agatha, wishing he would go away.
“I mean, why Harry?” he went on.
Agatha’s good resolutions disappeared as she asked, “You tried to punch Harry, didn’t you, because he called Rose a slut?”
“I don’t remember,” he said, shaking his head. “I drink so much, get these big blanks.”
“Why would Harry call her a slut?”
Agatha held on to the table-top, prepared to flee if Trevor lost his temper, but all his usual truculence was absent.
“He probably felt for Olivia.”
“Did Olivia think her husband was after Rose? I mean, was there any reason for her to think so?”
“Could’ve been. Rose liked to flirt a bit. That was all.”
“How did you meet Rose?”
“I was with my wife at this road-house outside Cambridge-that’s my first wife, Maggie. It was our wedding a
“I can ‘member that evening as if it was yesterday. She was wearing a short dress and she had all those diamonds on.
“‘Look at all those rocks on that woman,’ I says to Maggie. And Maggie says they’re bound to be paste. Rose saw us looking at her and she asks the barman something. I had told the restaurant to give us a good table because it was our wedding a
“When was this?” asked Agatha.
“Three years ago.”
“I thought you’d been married a long time.”
“To Maggie, not Rose. Anyway, Maggie was very flustered and flattered and asked her over. I’d never met anyone like Rose. She sort of sparkled. She seemed to have a lot of money and travelled a lot. She asked me what I did and I told her about the plumbing business. I bragged a bit and said I was making a fortune. Maggie kicked me under the table, but I didn’t want to let the side down in front of a rich woman. Maggie went off to powder her nose and Rose hands me a card with her phone number, winks at me, and says, ‘Why don’t you call round and see me?’
“When Maggie came back towards the table, I seemed to see her for the first time, all dumpy and those damn gloves and she had thick specs that gave her a dopey look, and I thought, I’ve worked hard all my life, I deserve a bit of fun.”
Trevor sighed. “I called her the very next day and we started an affair. I couldn’t think of anything but Rose, couldn’t see anything but Rose. So I asked Maggie for a divorce.”
There was a long silence.
“How did Maggie take it?” asked Agatha gently.
“She never could sleep proper. Got pills from the doctor. Took the lot.”