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leave?” asked Mrs. Freedman in a quavering voice.
    “Oh, go on with what you’re doing,” said Agatha.
    The door opened and a young man slouched in. He had a shaven head, a nose stud, earrings and was dressed all in black—black T-shirt under a black leather jacket and black leather trousers. His face was set in a truculent sneer. He had blue eyes, a sharp nose and a long mouth.
    “Hi,” he said and slumped down on the sofa.
    “My nephew, Harry Beam,” said Mrs. Freedman.
    For a moment, Agatha was lost for words. She had imagined the nephew would turn out to be a bright, clean-cut young man.
    “So this is your gap year?” Agatha finally demanded.
    “Yup.”
    “What are you going to study?”
    “Physics.”
    “Where?”
    “Imperial College.”
    How on earth did he get in there? wondered Agatha. Threaten to break their legs? Oh, well, one day should be enough to get rid of him.
    “Mrs. Freedman, give Harry the files on the lost animals and let him get on with it. Patrick, did you manage to interview either Fairy Tennant or Trixie Sommers?”
    “Not yet. I’ve been trying the neighbours. I was going to get them after school.”
    “Okay, Phil and I will go now.”
    “I know them,” said Harry, looking up. “Pair of slags.”
    “How do you know them?”
    “Year below me in school.”
    “And what about Jessica Bradley?”
    “Naw, she was one of the quiet ones.”
    Agatha hesitated. The sensible thing would be to take Harry with her. But she balked at the thought of losing face by being seen with such an oaf.
    “Come along, Phil. Harry, if you find one animal, you’re hired.”
    He grunted, staring at the photographs of the missing pets.
    Agatha sighed and went out, followed by Phil.
    When they were driving off, she said, “I begin to wonder about Mrs. Freedman. First she gossips and then she saddles me with that monster of a nephew.”
    “He may be all right,” said Phil. “They all look weird these days.”
    They drove to Mircester High School and parked outside. Some parents were already waiting in their cars because a lot of pupils came in from outlying villages, some not served by a school bus.
    At four o’clock, the pupils began to stream out. Agatha reflected that most seemed to have done everything they could to alter their school uniforms. A lot of the girls were wearing high heels and tiny skirts. The boys went in for the sloppy look. Trousers drooping over their ankles and shirt tails hanging out.
    Agatha recognized Trixie and Fairy and walked towards them.
    Harry Beam turned into a store where he knew there was a machine for printing business cards. He typed in his name, put “private detective” under it, the name of the agency and the phone numbers and email of the agency.
    Then he got into an old white Ford van he had hired and headed out to the outskirts, where the Animal Rescue Shelter was located. It had just started up a month before.
    He went into the reception desk.
    The receptionist looked him up and down and demanded, “What do you want?”
    And Harry smiled at her. The smile transformed him and Agatha would not have recognized his voice as he presented his business card and said meekly, “I wonder if I could look at your cats and dogs. You see, the owners are so distressed and we would like to do everything we can to help them find their pets.”
    She studied his card. “That’s the agency which is helping poor Jessica’s parents find out who murdered her?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “Wait here.”
    She went off.
    Harry waited patiently. After a short time she returned with a man whom she introduced as Mr. Blenkinsop.
    Mr. Blenkinsop had phoned the agency to check that Harry really was who he said he was.
    “Follow me, young man,” he said. “We’ll let you have a look.”
    Clutching his folders, Harry followed him.
    He went carefully from cage to cage, turning occasionally to ask when either a cat or dog had been admitted.
    At last he said cheerfully, “I