Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death

say than because she was interested, she said, ‘So you think someone might have murdered Paul Bladen?’
    ‘It did cross my mind,’ he said. ‘I mean, it would be so easy to do. Creep up on him when he had a syringe full, knock him on the head . . . No that won’t do. He hadn’t been knocked on the head.’
    ‘But he might have been,’ said Agatha. ‘I mean, he had a lump on his head. They decided he might have got it falling on the floor, but he was lying on his side.’
    ‘I suppose the police know what they are doing,’ said James. ‘I mean, if anyone else had been around Lord Pendlebury’s racing stables, he or she would have been seen. This is the country. You can’t sneak around places quietly like you can in the city.’
    ‘I wonder,’ said Agatha. ‘I would like to see those racing stables. Do you know Lord Pendlebury?’
    ‘No. But all you have to do is go up there and ask him to contribute to one of those charities you’re always raising money for. Then, when you leave the house, all you have to do is go to the stables and take a look around.’
    ‘I wish you would come with me,’ said Agatha. He looked at her nervously, but she had not said it in any flirtatious way.
    He thought of the work he had to do, he thought of the joys of writing and found himself saying, ‘I don’t see why not. We could go up this afternoon, say, about two.’
    ‘That is very kind of you,’ said Agatha calmly.
    She saw him to the door, ushered him out, and then performed a war dance in her little hall. The impossible was about to happen. She was going to spend an afternoon with James Lacey.