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  • Hamish Macbeth 24 (2008) - Death of a Gentle Lady Page 5

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  Hamish pulled up a chair and sat facing him. “I am investigating two murders,” he began.

  “What on earth has that got to do with me?” asked Harold.

  Hamish noticed that he did not ask which murders—and the murder of Irena had not yet reached the newspapers. Of course, the press in the hotel might have got wind of it already and told him.

  “Were you in the village yesterday morning around eleven o’clock?”

  “Yes, I took a walk. I bought some postcards.”

  “Did you see anyone in the phone box?”

  “I don’t even remember seeing a phone box.”

  “What brought you up to the Highlands?”

  “I am writing a novel about the forgotten primitive people of the British Isles.”

  “And do the forgotten primitive people usually run five-star hotels?”

  “I must confess I am disappointed. But I shall walk out onto the moors and speak to crofters.”

  “I’m sure they’ll give you a right primitive welcome,” said Hamish. “Part of the highland greeting is to strike the visitor several times with a branch before inviting him inside. Then he must swallow a small bowl of rock salt and eat a piece of dried bread.”

  “I don’t know if I could cope with that.”

  “Try,” urged Hamish. “In fact, you don’t need to go up on the moors. Why not try the village? There’s a fisherman, Archie Maclean, has the wee cottage down by the harbour. I’ll tell him you’re coming.”

  “That’s kind of you. I suppose a writer must suffer for his art.”

  Hamish decided he was wasting his time at the hotel. Surely the villagers were the best bet. He called on Archie Maclean first. “I cannae ask you in, Hamish,” said Archie. “The wife’s down in Inverness visiting her sister. She’ll check when I get back to make sure I havenae dirtied anything.”

  “I won’t bother you,” said Hamish. “But I want you to do something for me. It’s a bit of a joke…”

  When Hamish had finished preparing Harold Jury’s highland welcome, he realised he would have to visit the Currie sisters, Nessie and Jessie, Lochdubh’s spinster twins. They noticed everything that happened in the village.

  He could only hope that they had not yet learned of Irena’s profession.

  Four

  Oh, what a tangled web we weave,

  When first we practise to deceive!

  —Sir Walter Scott

  Hamish parked on the waterfront and walked towards the Currie sisters’ cottage. Anxious to delay going in, he stood with his back to the loch and surveyed his home village, sharply aware, not for the first time, how much he loved the place.

  It was dark, and lights shone from the windows of the small whitewashed cottages. You could tell the time of day by the smells in Lochdubh, thought Hamish. Morning was redolent with bacon and eggs and strong tea, intermingling with the scent of peat smoke from newly lit fires. Then, no such thing as lunch in Lochdubh. Dinner was in the middle of the day. Complex smells of soup, beef stew, roast lamb, and again strong tea—tea with everything, and it must be nearly black in colour. High tea was at six o’clock. No one wanted newfangled oven chips. Chips must be fried in cholesterol-building lard. High tea brought the smell of kippers or sliced ham along with the sugary smell of cakes, because no high tea was properly served unless there were plain cakes and iced cakes. Supper was cocoa-and-toasted-jam-sandwiches time.

  Hamish sniffed the chocolate-scented air. Suppertime already. Nine o’clock. With a sigh he approached the Curries’ cottage. The door opened just as he reached it.

  “We saw you hanging about across the road,” said Nessie. “Wasting police time, that’s what you were doing.”

  “I need to ask you some questions,” said Hamish.

  “Come ben.” Hamish followed her into the small front parlour. Jessie Currie was watching television. “You interrupted this programme, this programme,” said Jessie, who always repeated the last words of her sentences.

  “It’s fair amazing the way you can keep one eye on the telly and keek out o’ the window with the other,” said Hamish.

  “Oh, sit down and get on with it,” said Nessie. “Well, my lad, you had a lucky escape. A prostitute! We could hardly believe our ears.”

  “Believe our ears,” echoed her sister, her eyes glued to a fornicating hippo on a wildlife programme.

  Hamish sighed. They complained of leaks at Number 10; they complained of leaks at the White House. But those were nothing compared with the Highlands of Scotland, which leaked information day in and day out like a sieve.

  “You ken Mrs. Cullie, her what lives up the brae?”

  “Aye.”

  “Her niece is a nurse at Strathbane hospital and she heard that fat detective, Blair, laughing fit to burst a gut. She asked him what the matter was and when he could finish laughing he said he’d just received a phone call and learned you were about to wed a hooker.”

  For once Jessie was too engrossed in the programme on television to echo her sister’s comments. A wildebeest was being savaged by a pack of hyenas. Probably the producers of the programme orchestrated the kill, thought Hamish cynically.

  “Forget about that,” said Hamish crossly. “Now, yesterday morning, someone made a call from that phone box on the waterfront, around eleven o’clock. Did you see anyone?”

  “Let me think. Oh, turn the sound down, Jessie. Aye, I mind I was coming out o’ Patel’s. He’d just got in some nice ham. I like a slice of ham at teatime. I’d got that and a can of Russian salad. What else? Oh, I know, another packet of beef lard. You can’t make proper chips with oil. And—”

  “For heffen’s sakes!” howled Hamish. “Forget the shopping list and chust be telling me who you saw.”

  “No need to shout, laddie. It was a woman, quite tall, wearing a headscarf, but she had brown hair, I could see that, and dark glasses. She was wearing a tweed jacket and shooting breeches, lovat socks and brogues on her feet. The headscarf was a red-and-gold pattern.”

  Hamish wrote busily in his notebook. “Anything about her face?”

  “She had a big mole on her chin, on her chin,” said Jessie.

  “That’s all we could see,” said Nessie. “Those dark glasses were so big.”

  “Did you see anyone speaking to her?”

  “Mrs. Wellington tried to. Bu the woman just put her head down, got on her bike, and pedalled off.”

  “On a bike? What kind of bike? Mountain bike?”

  “No, it was one o’ thae old·fashioned ladies’ models with the basket on front. We used to call them sit-up-and-beg, didn’t we, Jessie?”

  But Jessie had returned to watching her wildlife programme, where the helicopter carrying the cameraman was buzzing a herd of antelope and sending them stampeding in panic.

  “I’ll go and see Mrs. Wellington,” said Hamish, closing his notebook.

  “You’d better get yourself over to the hospital for a blood test,” said Nessie.

  “Why?”

  “You could have AIDS.”

  “I neffer slept with the lassie,” shouted Hamish.

  He shook his head in bewilderment as he walked up to the manse. He should not let the Currie sisters rile him, but they always managed to.

  Mrs. Wellington answered the door to him. “Come in, Hamish. I’d offer you a cup of tea but I don’t want to catch one of those sexual diseases.”

  “I did not even kiss her,” said Hamish grimly. “All I want from you is a bit of information. Now, yesterday morning, the Currie sisters said you tried to talk to a tall woman who then rode off on a bike.”

  “Oh, her. I was about to welcome her to the village and tell her about the church services, but she just ignored me.”

  Mrs. Wellington’s description of the woman tallied with that of the Currie sisters. Hamish thanked her and picked up his peaked cap, which he had laid on the kitchen table. Mrs. Wellington whipped a disinfectant wipe out of its packet and scrubbed the table where his hat had been lying.<
br />
  Hamish sighed. The news that he had been on the point of marrying a prostitute would be all around the village, and would seep up to the Tommel Castle Hotel. The colonel would no doubt phone his daughter, Priscilla, to tell her all about it.

  He collected the Land Rover and went back to the police station. He fed the dog and cat but only made a sandwich for himself. He sent over the description of the mysterious woman to Strathbane and was about to go to bed when Jimmy Anderson arrived.

  “I could almost wish Blair were back on his gouty feet to take over,” groaned Jimmy. “Daviot’s decided to head the investigation himself.”

  “Surely anything’s better than Blair.”

  “Daviot fusses and frets. Usually when he deals with the press, it’s a carefully orchestrated press conference. He’s not used to dealing wi’ the wolf pack on the ground. The forensic lab’s groaning that it’s got cases a year old, but Daviot wants DNA results now. Dr. Forsythe’s working hard. She wants to retire after this case.”

  “So how far have they got?”

  “Still too early. Dr. Forsythe is checking the toxicology. She thinks a big strong lassie like that might have to be drugged first.”

  “I thought of that myself. But maybe if she was hit hard on the head with a hammer or something, she wouldn’t need to be drugged.”

  “Right. But there were no drag marks on the stairs. I know it looked as if the cellar had been recently cleaned, but something would have shown up if she’d been hit on the head and pulled down the stairs. Even cleaned-up blood shows up under those blue lights they were flashing around. So it stands to reason it was someone she knew. Two glasses on the table, one bottle, no prints. A full bottle of Amontillado. Say someone said, “I’ve got a good bottle of wine in the cellar. Come down and we’ll drink to your wedding. You’ve got time.””

  “Mrs. Gentle said she went out for a walk.”

  “Mrs. Gentle could have been in on the murder.”

  “I forgot to tell you. I’ve got witnesses to that phone call from the box,” said Hamish. “I sent a report over.” He described the woman.

  “I’ll phone headquarters and get them on to it right away,” said Jimmy, going through to the office. “They can start with that bike,” he called over his shoulder.

  When he came back, he rubbed his hand over his bristly chin and yawned. “I’ll stay here the night, Hamish.”

  “That’s another pair of my underpants, not to mention another clean shirt,” complained Hamish. “Want a drink?”

  “I don’t. Blair’s alcoholism has given me a real scare.”

  Harold Jury knocked on Archie Maclean’s door the following morning. “Your local policeman suggested I call on you,” said Harold, looking down at the small fisherman. Archie was not what he had expected. He had fondly pictured a tall, burly son of the sea, not this small man in a cloth cap and a tight suit.

  “Come ben,” said Archie. “Oh, wait a minute.” He reached behind the door, picked up a fir branch, and struck Harold across the face with it. He chanted something in Gaelic, then said, “Now you can come in.”

  The blow had been a light one, but Harold still felt shocked. He followed Archie into the kitchen. The floor was covered in newspapers. “The wifie’s house-proud,” said Archie. “Don’t want to get dirty marks on the floor.”

  He placed a bowl of rock salt on the table and said, “Eat up. Welcome to ma house.”

  “Can I have some water with this?” asked Harold.

  “No, the traditional highland welcome says you hae to eat it straight.”

  Harold gulped and swallowed. His mouth felt as if it were on fire. At last he finished the small bowl of salt. “What now?” he asked.

  “This,” said Archie. He picked up the fir branch and struck Harold again. “Welcome and goodbye.”

  “That’s it?” Harold rose from his chair at the kitchen table.

  “Aye, that’s it.”

  Harold went straight across the road to the bar on the harbour, where he ordered a pint of beer and gulped it down his throat. He was beginning to feel obscurely that there was something too odd about the whole business. He ordered another pint and turned away from the bar, looking for a place to sit down. He noticed that the bar seemed to have filled up, and a group of men were looking at him with covert amusement. An awful suspicion began to grow in his mind. He left his pint untouched and drove back to the Tommel Castle Hotel, where he confronted the manager and demanded to know if what he had experienced was a highland welcome. When he had finished laughing, Mr. Johnson asked, “Where did you get such a silly idea from?”

  Furiously Harold described how Hamish Macbeth had sent him to see Archie Maclean. “Do you mean it was all a joke?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I shall report that policeman to his superiors. I shall phone the local newspaper.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’ll look a right fool.”

  Harold realised the truth of it. “I’m getting out of here,” he yelled. “Get my bill ready.”

  The office door opened, and the vision that was Priscilla Halburton-Smythe walked in.

  She stood in a shaft of sunlight. Her smooth blonde hair was a perfect bell. She was wearing a green wool suit. Thoughts of the fairy queen ran through Harold’s head.

  “Can I help?” asked Priscilla. “I am Priscilla Halburton-Smythe.”

  “It’s all right,” said Mr. Johnson. “Mr. Jury was just asking for his bill. Mr. Jury?”

  Harold was hanging on to Priscilla’s proffered hand with a dazed look on his face. “Eh, what?” he asked as Priscilla firmly withdrew her hand. “Oh, that.” He forced a laugh. “Just joking. I’ll be staying on for a bit. Miss Halburton-Smythe, may I offer you a drink?”

  “Well…”

  “I’m afraid I got unnecessarily upset over a joke played on me by a silly policeman.”

  “Tell me all about it,” said Priscilla, and she led the author from the office and into the bar.

  “I’m going to interview the family,” said Jimmy that morning.

  “Who’s all going to be there?” asked Hamish.

  “There’s daughter Sarah, and son Andrew with his wife, Kylie, their two children, John and Twinkle—”

  “And what?”

  “Believe it or not, Twinkle is her name. There’s also a nephew, Mark Gentle.”

  “Take me with you,” urged Hamish.

  “Well, sit in a corner and keep your mouth shut.”

  Mrs. Gentle had had the speech and manners of an upper-class lady. Her daughter, Sarah, although tall and rangy, had the same accent as her mother—the result of a good finishing school in her late teens. Andrew Gentle and his wife, Kylie, came as a surprise. Andrew was stocky and very hairy. His thick brown hair grew low on his forehead and he had hair on the back of his hands, making them look like paws. He was wearing an open-necked shirt displaying a great tuft of chest hair. His accent showed traces of cockney. Kylie was tall and anorexic-thin. She had a stiff, expressionless face—Botox, thought Hamish—and masses of artificially red hair. Her vivid blue eyes were the result of contact lenses. Her unexpectedly generous breasts, revealed by a low-cut blouse, hung on her skeletal figure like ripe fruit on a withered tree. Her accent was highland—or maybe more island, decided Hamish after listening carefully. Although soft, it held the fluting tones of the Outer Hebrides.

  Andrew, it transpired, was fifty years old and his wife, forty-eight.

  Daughter Twinkle was twenty-five. She had a classy accent, but that was the only thing classy about her. She had inherited her father’s stocky figure. Her skin was sallow, her eyes brown, and her large mouth set in a perpetual pout.

  Son John was twenty-three, tall, willowy, and effeminate. He had dirty-blonde hair worn long. His voice was pleasant but was marred by a faint lisp. Hamish noticed that he looked frightened.

  Nephew Mark Gentle had a London accent. He was handsome in a rugged way: well built with a good head of blonde
hair and clear grey eyes. His hands were red and callused. Hamish wondered what he did for a living.

  Jimmy said he would interview them one at a time, starting with Andrew, and asked if there was a suitable room. Andrew suggested the study.

  Jimmy, flanked by Andy MacNab, was to conduct the interview. A policewoman was there to take notes, even though the interviews were to be recorded. Hamish sat in a corner of the study and looked around with interest.

  He doubted whether Mrs. Gentle had ever used the room. It had a masculine flavour. There was a large Victorian desk and several hard chairs. Sporting prints hung on the walls; a stuffed fox snarled in its glass case on a cabinet by the window. The room was very cold.

  Jimmy shivered. “Before we begin the questioning, Mr. Gentle, is there any way of heating this room?”

  Andrew left and came back with an old·fashioned two-bar electric heater decorated with fake coals on the top and plugged it in.

  “How is the rest of the place heated?” asked Hamish.

  “Coal fires in the rooms,” said Andrew.

  But not in Irena’s, thought Hamish.

  Glaring at Hamish, Jimmy began the questioning. He already had in front of him a list of names, ages, and addresses. After the usual preliminaries for the tape recorder, he began. Where had Andrew been during the last week? Andrew said he had been at his office in the City of London.

  “You visited your mother for a family reunion,” said Jimmy. “What was that all about?”

  “She wanted to discuss her will. It was very straightforward: half to me and half to my sister, Sarah.”

  “Was your mother afraid of anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Did you speak to the girl we now know as Irena when you were here?”

  “Of course. She was the hired help. I’d ask her to fetch me a coffee, things like that.”

  “What time did she get off?”

  “I don’t know. Sarah’ll probably know. She was staying here before Mother turfed her out.”

  “When you were here, are you sure nothing was said to upset or frighten your mother in any way?”

 

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Hasty Death emm-2 Read onlineEdwardian Murder Mystery 02; Hasty Death emm-2The Constant Companion Read onlineThe Constant CompanionHamish Macbeth 14 (1999) - Death of a Scriptwriter Read onlineHamish Macbeth 14 (1999) - Death of a ScriptwriterGinny Read onlineGinnyHamish Macbeth 10 (1994) - Death of a Charming Man Read onlineHamish Macbeth 10 (1994) - Death of a Charming ManHamish Macbeth 03; Death of an Outsider hm-3 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 03; Death of an Outsider hm-3The Love from Hell ar-11 Read onlineThe Love from Hell ar-11The Scandalous Lady Wright (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 4) Read onlineThe Scandalous Lady Wright (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 4)Hamish Macbeth 17 (2001) - Death of a Dustman Read onlineHamish Macbeth 17 (2001) - Death of a DustmanHamish Macbeth 13 (1997) - Death of a Dentist Read onlineHamish Macbeth 13 (1997) - Death of a DentistThe Paper Princess (The Royal Ambition Series Book 7) Read onlineThe Paper Princess (The Royal Ambition Series Book 7)Rainbird's Revenge: HFTS6 Read onlineRainbird's Revenge: HFTS6The Perfect Gentleman (The Love and Temptation Series Book 7) Read onlineThe Perfect Gentleman (The Love and Temptation Series Book 7)Sir Philip's Folly (The Poor Relation Series Book 4) Read onlineSir Philip's Folly (The Poor Relation Series Book 4)The Witches' Tree--An Agatha Raisin Mystery Read onlineThe Witches' Tree--An Agatha Raisin MysteryDeath of an Outsider Read onlineDeath of an OutsiderHamish MacBeth 03 (1988) - Death of an Outsider Read onlineHamish MacBeth 03 (1988) - Death of an OutsiderAgatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Perfect ParagonDeath of a Chimney Sweep Read onlineDeath of a Chimney SweepThe Dreadful Debutante (The Royal Ambition Series Book 1) Read onlineThe Dreadful Debutante (The Royal Ambition Series Book 1)Something Borrowed, Someone Dead Read onlineSomething Borrowed, Someone DeadAgatha Raisin and The Murderous Marriage ar-5 Read onlineAgatha Raisin and The Murderous Marriage ar-5The Highland Countess Read onlineThe Highland CountessDeath of a Chimney Sweep hm-1 Read onlineDeath of a Chimney Sweep hm-1The Skeleton in the Closet Read onlineThe Skeleton in the ClosetSusie Read onlineSusieAgatha Raisin and Kissing Christmas Goodbye Read onlineAgatha Raisin and Kissing Christmas GoodbyeRegency Gold (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 2) Read onlineRegency Gold (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 2)The Marquis Takes a Bride Read onlineThe Marquis Takes a BrideHamish Macbeth 16 (1999) - A Highland Christmas Read onlineHamish Macbeth 16 (1999) - A Highland ChristmasDeath of a Liar Read onlineDeath of a LiarHamish Macbeth 01; Death of a Gossip hm-1 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 01; Death of a Gossip hm-1Love and Lady Lovelace (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 8) Read onlineLove and Lady Lovelace (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 8)Death of an Honest Man Read onlineDeath of an Honest ManThe Desirable Duchess Read onlineThe Desirable DuchessDeception (Daughters of Mannerling 3) Read onlineDeception (Daughters of Mannerling 3)A Highland Christmas hm-16 Read onlineA Highland Christmas hm-16Polly Read onlinePollyThe Savage Marquess Read onlineThe Savage MarquessAgatha Raisin 03 (1994) - The Potted Gardener Read onlineAgatha Raisin 03 (1994) - The Potted GardenerPushing Up Daisies Read onlinePushing Up DaisiesDeath Of An Addict Read onlineDeath Of An AddictBanishment (Daughters of Mannerling 1) Read onlineBanishment (Daughters of Mannerling 1)Amaryllis Read onlineAmaryllisHamish MacBeth 06 (1991) - Death of a Snob Read onlineHamish MacBeth 06 (1991) - Death of a SnobThe Paper Princess Read onlineThe Paper PrincessHamish Macbeth 06; Death of a Snob hm-6 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 06; Death of a Snob hm-6The Dreadful Debutante Read onlineThe Dreadful DebutanteAgatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryfam Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Fairies of FryfamHamish Macbeth 22 (2006) - Death of a Dreamer Read onlineHamish Macbeth 22 (2006) - Death of a DreamerDishing the Dirt Read onlineDishing the DirtMinerva Read onlineMinervaDeath of a Nag hm-11 Read onlineDeath of a Nag hm-11Hamish Macbeth 18 (2002) - Death of a Celebrity Read onlineHamish Macbeth 18 (2002) - Death of a CelebrityQuadrille (The Love and Temptation Series Book 5) Read onlineQuadrille (The Love and Temptation Series Book 5)Death of a Glutton hm-8 Read onlineDeath of a Glutton hm-8The Westerby Sisters (Changing Fortunes Series) Read onlineThe Westerby Sisters (Changing Fortunes Series)The Scandalous Marriage (The Dukes and Desires Series Book 7) Read onlineThe Scandalous Marriage (The Dukes and Desires Series Book 7)The Adventuress: HFTS5 Read onlineThe Adventuress: HFTS5Death of a Valentine Read onlineDeath of a ValentineDeath of a Nag Read onlineDeath of a NagDeath of a Dustman hm-17 Read onlineDeath of a Dustman hm-17Hamish Macbeth 09 (1993) - Death of a Travelling Man Read onlineHamish Macbeth 09 (1993) - Death of a Travelling ManThe Loves of Lord Granton (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 2) Read onlineThe Loves of Lord Granton (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 2)Agatha Raisin and a Spoonful of Poison ar-19 Read onlineAgatha Raisin and a Spoonful of Poison ar-19To Dream of Love Read onlineTo Dream of LoveAgatha Raisin 04 (1995) - The Walkers of Dembley Read onlineAgatha Raisin 04 (1995) - The Walkers of DembleyHamish MacBeth 01 (1985) - Death of a Gossip Read onlineHamish MacBeth 01 (1985) - Death of a GossipDeath of a Maid hm-23 Read onlineDeath of a Maid hm-23Belinda Goes to Bath Read onlineBelinda Goes to BathDeath of a Kingfisher Read onlineDeath of a KingfisherDeath of a Charming Man hm-10 Read onlineDeath of a Charming Man hm-10Death of a Prankster hm-7 Read onlineDeath of a Prankster hm-7The Miser of Mayfair: HFTS1 Read onlineThe Miser of Mayfair: HFTS1Hamish Macbeth 05; Death of a Hussy hm-5 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 05; Death of a Hussy hm-5A Governess of Distinction (Endearing Young Charms Book 6) Read onlineA Governess of Distinction (Endearing Young Charms Book 6)The Westerby Inheritance Read onlineThe Westerby InheritanceDeath of a Hussy Read onlineDeath of a HussyHamish MacBeth 07 (1998) - Death of a Prankster Read onlineHamish MacBeth 07 (1998) - Death of a PranksterHamish Macbeth 20 (2004) - Death of a Poison Pen Read onlineHamish Macbeth 20 (2004) - Death of a Poison PenMiss Tonks Turns to Crime Read onlineMiss Tonks Turns to CrimeEdwardian Murder Mystery 01; Snobbery with Violence emm-1 Read onlineEdwardian Murder Mystery 01; Snobbery with Violence emm-1Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Wizard of EveshamHamish Macbeth 12 (1996) - Death of a Macho Man Read onlineHamish Macbeth 12 (1996) - Death of a Macho ManYvonne Goes to York Read onlineYvonne Goes to YorkA Highland Christmas Read onlineA Highland ChristmasSweet Masquerade (The Love and Temptation Series Book 4) Read onlineSweet Masquerade (The Love and Temptation Series Book 4)Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wykhadden Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Witch of WykhaddenThe Dead Ringer Read onlineThe Dead RingerAgatha Raisin 05 (1996) - The Murderous Marriage Read onlineAgatha Raisin 05 (1996) - The Murderous MarriageAgatha Raisin 07 (1998) - The Wellspring of Death Read onlineAgatha Raisin 07 (1998) - The Wellspring of DeathAgatha Raisin: As the Pig Turns ar-22 Read onlineAgatha Raisin: As the Pig Turns ar-22