Agatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon - M. C. Beaton [70]
They followed her up a steep staircase to the top of the house. “It’s my studio,” she said, ushering them in. Studio, reflected Agatha, was a real estate agent’s name for one room with a kitchen and a minuscule shower tacked on.
“Would you like tea or coffee?” asked Mary.
“No,” said Agatha. “What I would really like to know is if Joyce ever talked about a place abroad or somewhere where she would really like to live.”
She frowned. “I’m trying to think. I can’t really believe Joyce would murder anyone. We had such laughs. I phoned her yesterday. I told her, ‘You’ll never guess the excitement. They’ve found a milk bottle in that cheese plant.’ I saw no harm in telling her. We were such friends. I couldn’t believe for a moment she had done anything wrong,”
“Did you know she was having an affair with Robert Smedley?”
“No! Surely not. In fact, I used to tease her about not having any boyfriends.”
“Did you never wonder how she was able to rent a whole house?”
“She said she had rich parents. Oh dear. She must have been lying to me all along.”
“Did she ever go abroad on holiday?”
“Just the once and only for a weekend. Let me think. She said Daddy was taking her to Marbella.”
“Daddy was probably Robert Smedley.”
“Joyce went on about how beautiful it was and how she’d like to live there.”
Agatha was suddenly anxious to be off. They thanked Mary and made their way out.
“Let’s go home and pack,” said Agatha. “I’ll tell Phil and Harry to hold the fort.”
TWELVE
MABEL drove steadily and competently down through Spain. She was feeling tired and depressed. She had meant to get clean away on her own. She had put all the furniture in storage and had transferred her money to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.
And then Joyce had come round to say that the milk bottle had been found and unless Mabel helped her escape, she would tell the police everything. She began to call the shots, saying she wanted to go to Marbella. Mabel pointed out that Spain no longer harboured British criminals, and if found, they could be extradited, but Joyce was adamant. Mabel felt it was all a dreadful mistake. If she hadn’t been so flustered and frightened and on her own, she would have hidden out in London under an assumed name and tried to find out how to get a forged passport. Mabel planned to stay in Marbella for one night to shut Joyce up and then move on.
Mabel had abandoned her car in the south of England and had paid cash for a new Land Rover.
Once in Marbella, she would find some way to get rid of Joyce. Mabel loathed Joyce, but she had joined forces with her, motivated by one great hate: Mabel was desperate to rid herself of the husband she had once loved so much. It had not crossed her mind until much later that he had married her only for her money. At first she had admired the way he had set up the electronics business, and saw him as a captain of industry. But gradually he had turned surly, possessive and bullying. Mabel soon discovered that he was possessive, not through love, but because he feared she would take her money away from him if she found someone else. When she met Burt, it was as if all her old girlhood dreams had come true. She had been so sure that Burt was in love with her, but when she began to talk of divorcing Robert, Burt had told her about Jessica. Jealous Joyce had been watching Burt’s flat and had known of the affair. She had called on Mabel and Mabel was at first delighted to share her pain with another betrayed woman. At first she had decided to divorce Robert. He had given her a beating and said he would kill her.
And then she had found those videos. Her jealousy of Jessica had become corrosive. She began to stalk her. That was how she knew when the girl went to the nightclub. Girls were always getting murdered on the road home from nightclubs, or so she told herself. She waited until she saw Jessica leave the club. If the girl had been with