Pushing Up Daisies by M. C. Beaton Page B

won’t be working for you.”
    â€œYou signed a contract,” said Agatha. “I’ve a good mind to keep you to it. No, on second thoughts, just get lost!”
    Toni and Simon, instead of going to the pub, had made their way to the allotments to see if they could find out anything. When they arrived, allotment holders were gathered on the road outside. A full moon lit up the angry faces. Harry Perry was shouting that one of them had stolen his prize marrow. “I blame you, Bunty Daventry,” he was yelling. “You was always jealous of my fame.”
    â€œIt’s only a poxy marrow,” sneered Josephine Merriweather.
    â€œIf you were a man,” raged Harry, “I’d beat the living daylights out of you.”
    â€œOh, you would, would you?” Josephine advanced on him, waving her fists.
    â€œCalm down all of you,” said one of the older members, Fred Palmer. “Fighting ain’t getting us anywhere. Have you called the police, Harry?”
    â€œâ€™Course I did, and they won’t do anything. I wanted a house-to-house search.”
    â€œAren’t we forgetting about Peta’s murder?” asked Bunty.
    â€œI’m not forgetting,” said Harry. “But she wasn’t much use as a gardener anyway. The theft of my marrow is more important.”
    Toni and Simon walked away from the angry voices. “Allotments seem to bring out the worst in people,” said Simon. “You’d think they’d all be rejoicing now that their precious plots aren’t to be destroyed. Why don’t we go to the pub?”
    Toni hesitated. “Maybe I should go back to Agatha.”
    â€œIt’s all right. I’m in love,” said Simon.
    Toni smiled with relief. She had become weary of Simon’s pursuit of her. “All right. The pub it is. Who’s the lucky lady?”
    â€œAlice Peterson.”
    â€œ Detective Alice Peterson? Oh, Simon. Bill’s keen on her but can’t do anything because of them being colleagues. He’ll be furious. How long have you been dating her?”
    â€œWell, I haven’t asked her out yet. I’m waiting for the right moment.”
    â€œDon’t do it. You’ll only hurt Bill.”
    â€œHe can’t do anything about asking her out and I can,” said Simon mulishly. “I know where she lives. I’m going to wait outside her house and just ask her.”
    â€œOh, forget about the pub,” snapped Toni and strode off, autumn leaves swirling about her feet in a rising wind.
    Later that evening, like a dog waiting for its master, Simon lurked outside the block of flats where Alice lived. At last he saw her driving up with Bill and moved into the shadows. His heart beat fast as he watched her leaning into the car to say goodnight.
    Bill drove off. As Alice approached the entrance, Simon stepped forward.
    â€œGood evening,” he said.
    Alice looked puzzled for a moment as she studied his face in the entrance light. Then her face cleared. “Oh, it’s you, Simon. Found anything out?”
    â€œNothing much,” said Simon. “I wondered if you would care to go for a drink?”
    â€œIt’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m tired,” said Alice, beginning to walk away.
    â€œAnother time?” called Simon. But Alice did not reply. The entrance door slammed behind her. I’d forgotten how late it was, mourned Simon. I’ll send her flowers. That should do the trick.
    *   *   *
    Agatha was about to set out for Harby Hall the next morning to try to interview Andrea and find out if she had any proof to back up her allegation that her brother had murdered their father. She had not told Wilkes about Andrea’s startling accusation. Maybe Gerald had told them. Agatha did not like the idea of the police knowing absolutely everything. Then she had to find out what had happened to Mrs. Bull.
    Charles appeared as she