Agatha was just steeling herself to say something to Charles when he said, “I’ve got to go out tonight. Maybe see you later or tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to do anything more today?” asked Toni. “Or will I stay here and scout around on my own?”

“See if you can collar Bill and get anything out of him,” said Agatha, now anxious to leave and begin beauty preparations for the evening ahead.

But duty nagged and she knew she had better call in to her office before she went home.

Motherly Mrs. Freedman was serving a man with coffee and biscuits when Agatha arrived. “This is ex-Detective Sergeant Jimmy Wilson,” she said. “Jimmy, your boss, Mrs. Raisin.”

Jimmy was a medium-sized, pugnacious-looking man. He had a round face with small eyes and a squashed nose above a pursed mouth. To Agatha’s relief, he seemed to be in his early fifties.

“Did you take early retirement?” she asked.

“I had cancer,” said Jimmy. “By the time I got over it, I felt like taking a long break, so I resigned. But I’m fit and ready for work now. I’ve got good contacts with the police.”

“We’re overloaded with work,” said Agatha, “but Mrs. Freedman will give you some jobs to get started on. Did you sign a contract?”

“Yes, my cousin here gave me all the papers.”

“Cousin?” queried Agatha, scowling at Mrs. Freedman.

She blushed. “Well, you needed someone and I knew Jimmy here was a good detective.”

“We’ll see how you go,” said Agatha. “I may want you to check with your police friends to find out anything you can about this business at Comfrey Magna. But we’ll deal with that when you’ve cleared up some of the backlog. I’ve got to rush. I’ve got an important interview to do with the case I’m on.”

Agatha had just removed a face pack and was washing her face when her doorbell rang. She cast an agonized look at her watch. Six o’clock. It couldn’t be George. She towelled her face dry and ran downstairs and opened the door. It was Mrs. Bloxby.