Agatha scowled horribly. ‘It all doesn’t add up. Boats! Felicity was smuggled into Britain as a baby. I wonder if they’ve charged George Bross with that?’

‘I doubt it,’ said Bill. ‘George is a Freemason and a generous contributor to police charities.’

‘But think! All that security around the house! Maybe they were smuggling something like drugs or arms in.’

She phoned Patrick again. They all fell silent until Agatha had finished her call.

‘Evidently both Sean or whatever his name was and George both had their boats practically taken apart. Nothing there. And that Jerry dog minder hasn’t even got a criminal record.’

‘Someone told me that you’ve been saying to the press that you are offering a reward.’

‘I thought that might stir something up.’

‘Agatha,’ said Bill sternly, ‘I should think you’ve enough work on your hands at the moment. I assume you’ve got Toni’s cases to clear up as well as your own. Just let the police get on with their job.’

‘Ha, bloody ha.’

‘I’m serious. Leave it alone.’

Agatha did find that all her energy in the following six weeks had to be poured into the work of the agency. Sharon proved bright and willing, although Agatha felt she would never get used to the girl’s appearance. Although chubby, Sharon favoured very tight jeans and boob tubes. Her masses of hair had recently been dyed black with blonde streaks.

There was no James next door. He had received permission to go off on his travels. With James out of the picture, Charles was no longer interested in detecting anything, finally feeling, in his lazy way, he had done his bit finding Betty.

Agatha found she was not looking forward to a lonely weekend. Toni was going with Sharon to a rock concert. She did not want to impose her company on Mrs Bloxby, knowing that lady was overburdened with parish affairs. Even though she was sure of a great welcome at the pub, where the new smoking section had been set up outside, thanks to generous donations and to the free services offered by local builders and carpenters, she did not want to go on her own.

So she received with pleasure a phone call from Roy Silver, asking to visit for the weekend.

Roy was delighted with his welcome but surprised that nothing had been happening about Felicity’s murder. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘this may be the very first time you’ve been unsuccessful.’

‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ said Agatha. ‘If it were anywhere in the Cotswolds I might have better luck, but if I go back to Downboys, the Hewes police will resent the very sight of me.’

The phone rang. Agatha went to answer it. She hoped it might be Sylvan. She had forgotten he was a philanderer and at the back of her mind there was always the hope that he might ring her up.