"Another success for Raisin Investigations," Agatha declared, finishing her gin later that evening. "Though I still think I should have won that quiche competition last year".
"He was eighty-two, Agatha," Bill said patiently. "But the clocks... they've all been stopped at exactly 10:15. Including the ones he didn't have batteries for." Agatha Raisin
Agatha’s PR-trained brain started whirring. "And 10:15 was when the exhibition opened. He was fine at 10:10 when Mrs. Boggle saw him." "But the clocks
"With a diamond-encrusted watch in your pocket?" Agatha guessed, a wild shot that hit the mark. Vane turned pale. "And 10:15 was when the exhibition opened
The boredom was broken by a frantic knock at her door. It was Mrs. Bloxby, the vicar's wife and Agatha’s only true friend, looking uncharacteristically flustered.
When Agatha arrived at the hall, the scene was typically chaotic. Sir Charles Fraith was leaning against a velvet-draped table, looking bored but elegant. The local police, led by a harried-looking Bill Wong, were already cordoning off the area.