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Turning right onto a road signposted for Paxford and Blockley, the Ebrington Arms appeared ahead of them, the sign above its quaint bay window announcing it as a Licensed Victualler and Retailer of Spirituous Liquors. Agatha hoped they also served hearty meals as she hadn't eaten a thing since the lasagne ready meal she had nuked in the microwave the evening before. Her quiet, relaxing Saturday night in had almost been ruined when she'd attempted to watch some mindless garbage on TV, but she had rescued herself from the professionally feigned exuberance of a game-show host and the ecstatic howling of his studio audience simply by pressing the "off" button on her remote. She had then curled up on her sofa with her two cats, a glass of wine, and a much-thumbed copy of Agatha Christie's Problem at Pollensa Bay short-story collection.

Pollensa, on Mallorca, had a special relevance for her right now as the Spanish island was the next port of call for the Ocean Palace Splendour cruise liner. On board was John Glass, a former detective inspector with Mircester Police. The two had spent a great deal of time in each other's company since they had danced together at the wedding of their mutual friends, police officers Alice and Bill Wong. John was an expert dancer and Agatha had allowed him to sweep her off her feet during a subsequent series of dance dates. Their romance blossomed, their mutual love of dancing whisking them forward from dance partners to lovers. On retiring from the police, John had accepted a job as a dance instructor on the cruise liner but Agatha had refused to travel with him. Instead, they had agreed to meet in all the most romantic places visited by the ship on its voyage around the world. Their next rendezvous was to be in Mallorca.

Charles pulled into the car park at the side of the pub and they walked into the traditional country inn, its low ceilings supported by ancient oak beams. The bar was of gleaming, polished wood, proudly displaying pump handles labelled with a variety of real ales and, behind, shelves groaning under the weight of an impressive array of spirits. At one end of the room, beneath a massive timber mantelpiece, a log fire blazed in an age-blackened stove. Although it was distinctly chilly outside, the Ebrington Arms offered a cosy welcome, a little too warm for Agatha near the stove, so she was glad when the waitress who greeted them showed them to a table that wasn't too close to the fireplace.

"This looks like a lovely pub." Agatha's eyes roamed around the room, taking in her surroundings. "Would William Harrison have popped in here for an ale?"

"Probably not," Charles guessed. "I doubt he was the type to frequent drinking establishments and, in any case, this building was probably still a farmhouse back in 1660. It's someplace I don't believe we've ever tried before. Someplace new for us, in keeping with the new proposal I want to discuss with you."

"First things first," Agatha said, removing her wool jacket to hang it over the back of her chair. The lilac silk top was warm enough for sitting at the table. "You haven't finished your murder mystery story."

"Ah, yes," he said, clasping his hands together to help concentrate on gathering the threads of the tale. "Ponds and cesspits were drained and rivers dragged, but there was still no sign of a body. John Perry was questioned again and he further embellished his story. He now claimed that there had been a break-in at his master's house a few months before. It was a Sunday and Perry had been at church with the Harrison family. Servants were expected to accompany their employers to Sunday worship. They returned home to find they had been robbed. Around £140 was missing, a substantial sum back then, equivalent to many thousands of pounds today.

"Although he had said nothing at the time, Perry now maintained that the burglar had been his brother, Richard, who had forced him to say where money was kept in the house and to point out the best way to break in. He also claimed that Richard and their mother, Joan, had demanded he keep them informed of Harrison's movements, so they could plan an ambush in order to steal the rent money. He knew they were out to get Harrison that August evening and even caught them in the act. He said Harrison was laid out on the ground and Richard was on top of him, strangling him, while his mother counted the loot. He pleaded with them not to kill his master, but they told him to get lost."

"It sounds to me like Perry was what we might call a vulnerable person," Agatha said, sitting back in her chair, perusing the menu, yet still concentrating on what Charles had to tell her. "He was easily led and easily manipulated by his family. Sadly for him, he was still an accomplice."

"That's also how the judge at the September assizes in Gloucester saw it," Charles confirmed. "He decided to try all three for the robbery at the house, but wouldn't proceed with a murder trial at that time because no body had been found. I should think he was hoping either that Harrison would reappear, or his body would be discovered.

"Then, a strange thing happened. Even though they had always said that John Perry's accusations were totally untrue, when they were tried for robbery, his mother and brother pleaded guilty."

"Really?" Agatha's eyebrows soared high enough to achieve a personal best. "Why would they do that?"