Agatha glanced at the screen. “The rich kid did it.”

“You’ve seen it before!”

“No, I haven’t. American television can be terribly snobby. If there’s a rich college kid, he’s always the murderer.”

“I want to see it,” complained Roy.

Agatha retreated to the kitchen and was just sitting down at the table when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and found Bill Wong looking quizzically at her.

“Come in,” said Agatha. “Where’s your boss?”

“This is unofficial. You were about to say something. Why were you surprised that only one death was referred to in the suicide note?”

“I wasn’t.”

“I know you of old. Out with it. Agatha, you’ve got into trouble before and nearly got yourself killed by not telling me the full story.”

Agatha capitulated. “Oh, sit down. Drink?”

“No, I’m driving. Coffee would be nice.”

“Right. There’s some still hot in the percolator.”

When Bill was seated at the table, with Agatha’s cats climbing over him, Agatha began to outline the idea she had formulated that George Selby’s wife had been pushed down the stairs by Sybilla. “Those two jam-making lesbians, Maggie Tubby and Phyllis Tolling, seem pretty sure of it. Mind you, they are a malicious pair of women. But I had the idea that if I could solve that case-assuming there was a case to be solved-then it might lead to whoever poisoned the jam. And if Sybilla was so dotty about George that he suggested she bump off his wife, he might have driven her to suicide, hoping to inherit her money.”

“We found Sybilla’s will. She had a sister, Cassandra. Cassandra gets the lot. She is a Mrs. Unwin, married well. Husband is head of a building contractors’. Pots of money.”

“But George might have thought she would leave it all to him.”

“I know you’ve had far-fetched ideas before that turned out to be true, but this one is ridiculous. Also, I don’t think the poisoning of the jam was intended to kill anyone.