Agatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon - M. C. Beaton [66]
“Off with you. I haven’t got time to chat here all day. I’ll phone you. What’s that number?”
Harry made up a phone number for her and then left.
He stood outside the gate, his brain busy. He thought about that cheese plant. Could the police possibly have missed it? Could Joyce have dug a hole at the base of the plant and put the milk bottle in there? And if she had, wouldn’t she have dug it up again when things had calmed down and got rid of it?
Harry decided to try to see Bill Wong and put the idea to him. He got on his motorbike and went to police headquarters, only to be told that Bill was out.
He retreated to a cafe across the parking lot in front of the building where he could watch the comings and goings. He took off the baseball cap and the glasses. Bill would ask how he knew about the cheese plant. But he remembered from all the notes that Agatha had been in that office with Charles, asking Joyce for addresses.
He took out his mobile and phoned Charles. Unlike Agatha’s usual phone calls, where she was blocked by either Gustav or the aunt, Charles himself answered the phone.
“When you were in Joyce’s office,” asked Harry, “was there a cheese plant there?”
“Can’t remember. Why?”
“Nothing. Just checking my notes.” A young woman’s voice could be heard in the background calling, “Where are you, Charles?”
Poor Agatha, thought Harry, ringing off. Hope she isn’t keen on him.
He looked across the square again just in time to see Bill getting out of a car.
Harry ran across the square and accosted him on the steps of police headquarters.
“What are you all smartened up for?” asked Bill crossly. “If Wilkes gets a look at you, he might begin to wonder again about the young man who was seen with Joyce.”
“Never mind that. There’s a whopping great cheese plant in Joyce’s old office in a big pot.”
“So?”
“She could have buried a milk bottle in there easy.”
“I think someone would have looked. I’ll check up on it.”
Bill thought hard as he went into the station. He went to see Wilkes. He knew Wilkes would not give the matter much serious thought if he learned it came from what he termed “that stupid amateur agency.”
“I’ve had an idea, sir,” began Bill.
“All right, then. Spit it out.”
“In Joyce Wilson’s office, there was a large cheese plant.”
“What’s a cheese plant?”
“Great big green thing like a young tree in a large pot. If by any chance Joyce Wilson is guilty, could she have hidden the missing milk bottle in there?”
“A team of forensic experts went over every single thing in that office. Besides, if it’s such a monster, the new secretary has probably got rid of it.”
“Wouldn’t do any harm to phone and ask, sir.”
“Look here, we’re overloaded with cases. Three murders and a spate of burglaries. Leave it.”
Agatha managed to get Harry on his mobile and asked him to join in the search of hotels and restaurants to see if Mabel had ever been spotted with Burt. She said they had left photographs of Mabel and Burt for him at the office.
Phil had received a text message from Mabel cancelling their date but suggesting the week after next. Part of him couldn’t help still hoping that there would be an innocent explanation for everything to do with Mabel.
Harry picked up the photographs at the office and stood lost in thought. Where would Mabel and Burt go for a liaison—that is, if they ever went anywhere together?
He decided to ask his father. His father was a successful architect. Harry’s parents’ marriage had nearly broken up two years ago when Harry’s mother found out that her husband had been having a fling with his secretary.
That evening, Harry went to his parents’ home. His father, Jeremy Beam, welcomed him. “Your mother’s gone out to her Women’s Institute meeting. Still working for that detective agency?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here. If a married woman was having an affair with a young employee of her husband’s, which hotel or restaurant around Mircester would they go to?”
“Ouch! Meaning you thought I would know?”
Harry