Agatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon - M. C. Beaton [41]
“It’s a funny business, the Internet,” mused Phil. “It’s so useful for research and yet everyone has easy access to pom. Now although what the girls were showing could be classified as soft pom, it’s still one more thing to corrupt the young. Even their figures have changed. In my youth, they stayed very slim and nearly flat-chested right up until they started work, but now they’ve got busts and backsides starting around the age of eleven years. Then they either start dieting ferociously or become as fat as anything. Not to mention the terrific rise in sexually transmitted diseases.”
Agatha winced. She was mentally planning to start an affair with Freddy. But these were difficult days. No more tumbling carefree into bed. Always wondering if the sexual partner was really some sort of diseased time bomb.
“Oh, here he comes,” said Phil.
Burt Haviland was walking along the street carrying a grocery bag. They both stepped out of the car.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Haven’t I enough to put up with having the police in my face all the time?”
“Just a few questions,” said Agatha.
He leaned against her car. “Fire away. I’m not asking you inside.”
“Who has the keys to the factory?”
“The security man. He opens up and locks up. Smedley would have had a set.”
“Look, we’re not accusing you of anything,” said Phil. “But is there any way anyone could get into the factory without keys, say at night?”
“Well, there is. Berry was sometimes too quick off the mark at locking up. One of the men found himself locked in one night. He managed to get out through a fire door, but he couldn’t find Berry anywhere. He walked round the perimeter fence and found a bit where the chain fence was loose at the bottom and prised it up and slipped through.”
“Wasn’t it electrified?” asked Agatha.
“No, the current only goes through the main gate. Word got around, but no one told Smedley or Wayne. We all wanted to think there was a way of getting out if the silly bugger locked anyone in again.”
“Where could Wayne have been when this man was searching for him?” asked Phil.
“Don’t know. He evidently wasn’t in his office, which is just by the main gate.”
“And can you show us where this bit in the fence is?”
“Find it yourselves,” snarled Burt. “I’m sick of you.”
* * *
“May as well try,” said Agatha as they drove towards the factory.
“What on earth was Mabel doing by suspending Berry from work? Anyone could raid the place.”
“Maybe she’s already got rid of any stock.”
“So quick? I shouldn’t think so.”
They reached the factory and parked and then began to walk around the perimeter fence. Agatha would have walked right pass the spot because she was dreaming about Freddy, but Phil suddenly cried, “Here it is. Look down. You can see where the grass has been flattened.” He bent down and tugged hard at the bottom of the fence and bent the chain link upwards. “There! That’s how it could have been done. Let’s go inside and have a look.”
“Must we?” pleaded Agatha. She was wearing a yellow linen suit and the grass was wet.
“We’ve come this far. I would like a look at the office door to see if it’s got the sort of lock that could be easily picked.”
He got down on the ground and rolled through to the other side. “Come on, Agatha. It’s easy.”
Agatha tried but got stuck halfway and Phil had to force the fence up even higher.
She stood up and tried to brush herself down. Her suit was wet and smeared with green grass stains.
They had just got halfway towards the buildings when an alarm went off and two security men with Alsatian dogs straining at the leash came running towards them.
“Stop!” called one. “Or we’ll let the dogs loose.”
They both stood frozen to the spot.
“You will come with us,” said one of them, “while we phone the police.”
“We’re employed by Mrs. Smedley to investigate the murder of her husband,” said Agatha. She fished in her