“No, it’s still quite clear,” said Arnold.

“Come along. I’ll help you,” said Agatha. “No, don’t anyone else bother. I’m an expert at this sort of thing.”

She carried the spoiled papers down to the end of the garden and carefully pinned them up, her mind working furiously. Trixie is wearing an expensive dress. She did that deliberately. Trixie must have been stealing from the funds.

“Where is the money kept, Arnold?” she asked.

“In the vicarage.”

“I think you should take it yourself and put it in a safe deposit box in the bank. Think about it. Someone who has committed murder wouldn’t stop short at a robbery.”

The vicar came to join them. “My poor wife begs to be excused. She is very distressed.”

“It’s all right,” said Arnold. “Thanks to Mrs. Raisin’s idea, there is no harm done.”

“Please call me Agatha.”

“Very well. Agatha. Although I find this modern business of calling acquaintances by their first names very… familiar. Agatha has had a splendid idea.”

He outlined the idea for putting all the money in a safe deposit box.

“Excellent,” enthused the vicar. “It certainly is not safe to keep so much money at the vicarage. I’ll go and bag it up. Perhaps we can each have a key to the box, Arnold?”

“Just for yourself and Arnold,” said Agatha quickly. “No one else.”

“Of course.”

There was no sign of Trixie when they entered the vicarage. The money was packed into bags. Then Agatha and Roy escorted Arnold to his bank and waited while he made arrangements for the safe deposit box and saw the money safely stowed away. “I forgot that Mr. Chance should have come with us to sign for the other key,” said Arnold as they left the bank.

Back in the village, they refused Arnold’s invitation to join him for tea in his cottage.

Agatha had parked the car near the church. “We’ll walk from here,” she said. “Must get some exercise.”