Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden by M. C Beaton

Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden by M. C Beaton

Author:M. C Beaton [Beaton, M. C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: [Côte d’Azur]
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


∨ The Witch of Wyckhadden ∧

6

Agatha awoke in hospital in Hadderton the following morning. The sleepy policewoman, Trul, was sitting beside her bed.

Agatha struggled up against the pillows. “So what happened?” she asked.

“The man operating the Ferris wheel said it jammed and he went to get help.”

“What!” Agatha was outraged. “I don’t believe that for a moment. Inspector Jessop had to climb all the way down that Ferris wheel in a storm because we were up there for ages.”

The policewoman rose. “Now you’re awake, do you feel strong enough to make a statement?”

“I feel fine. What’s the medical verdict?”

“You were not suffering from hypothermia but you may be suffering from shock. I’ll get Detective Sergeant Peter Carroll. He’s outside.”

Carroll came in. “Now, if you will begin at the beginning and tell me in your own words what happened,” he said, drawing out a notebook.

“I’m hardly likely to tell you in anyone else’s words,” said Agatha crossly. She described succinctly how the Ferris wheel had stopped when they were right at the top. “Before the storm blotted everything out,” said Agatha, “I could see the lights in the fairground below going out. To me it looked as if they were packing up for the night and going to leave us up there.”

“That will be all for the moment,” said Carroll, closing his notebook.

“Can I leave?”

“That’s between you and the hospital.”

“Then send in a nurse!”

When Carroll had left and had been replaced by a nurse, Agatha said she wanted to sign herself out. There was a long wait for a doctor and then all the forms to sign before her still-damp clothes were produced. They might at least have dried them, thought Agatha huffily.

She went out of the hospital, where steady rain was falling, and waited for the cab she had ordered. She began to feel very weak and shaky but she was determined to get back to the hotel. She took out the tranquillizers they had given her and threw them in a waste bucket beside the hotel entrance. In Agatha’s experience, all tranquillizers did was delay shock and misery.

The cab arrived and she was driven the short distance to the hotel in Wyckhadden. She went straight up to her room and ran a hot bath, stripped off her clothes, and soaked in it, wondering all the while if some of Francie’s relatives were responsible for her death and had tried to get the inspector out of the way. But she decided, as she towelled herself dry, that did not make sense. The fairground people must know that had Jimmy been killed, then they would have been plagued with police investigations until the end of time, not to mention a charge of manslaughter.

She realized she was hungry and it was lunch-time. She went down to the dining-room.

The rest were just finishing their meals. “We were looking for you last night,” the colonel called over.

“I was nearly killed,” said Agatha. She told them about her adventure on the Ferris wheel, half expecting them to shy away from the subject, but they all came crowding around her table, demanding details.



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