Mrs Bradley could have enlightened him, but did not. She made all haste back through the starry night to the village, and, having notified Doctor Fielding and, from his house, rung up the Inspector, she set off for Groaning Spinney. Of pity for the murderers of Bill Fullalove and Mrs Whittier she felt not the slightest pang. She was anxious only to know the result of her ghost-gate experiment and to assure herself of her nephew’s safety.

She met him at the edge of the wood.

‘Who’s that?’ called his voice as she approached. ‘Oh, it’s you, Aunt Adela. I say, Tiny’s conked out. Could you come and see to him? It’s his heart, I expect. The ghost upset it. He gave a sort of moan as we came in sight of Ed hanging over the gate with the lantern light on his face, and fell flat. I’m afraid he’s in a rather bad way.’

‘Yes, he’s saved the hangman a job,’ said Mrs Bradley grimly, bending over the dead man whilst Will North held up the lantern. ‘Can you two get him back to the bungalow between you?’

‘I won’t ask by what means you’ve taken the place of the Furies,’ said the Chief Constable. ‘I’ll only say this: I’m most relieved that you did. Those two were as black murderers as ever came out of hell, and, of course, even with Mrs Emming’s evidence, we might not have got a conviction.’

‘I did not foresee the Emming deaths,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘I thought that Emming might break down at the sight of Ed Brown’s ghost. Tiny Fullalove’s reactions do not surprise me. That fall from my balcony did his weak heart no good. It is better so. I confess I dislike the thought of hangings.’

‘And I dislike the thought of reporters,’ said Jonathan. ‘We shall be swarming with them during the next few days as soon as they get to know of the Emming affair. Tiny’s luck has held. It’s Emming who will come in for all the mud.’

Mrs Bradley nodded slowly. Then she quoted solemnly in Greek:

‘Fear not for him that departs from life; for after death there is no other accident.’

They were standing by Will North’s cottage. In Farmer Daventry’s field a lamb cried out for its mother. A blackcap flew out of the lilacs and pecked at the cardboard top on a bottle of milk. The lush land rose to a hawthorn hedge, the stable tower, and the trees. Behind the house, on the woodland bank, the wild strawberry ambled in faint flower.

VINTAGE MURDER MYSTERIES

A. A. MILNE

The Red House Mystery

GLADYS MITCHELL

Speedy Death

The Mystery of a Butcher’s Shop

The Longer Bodies

The Saltmarsh Murders

Death at the Opera

The Devil at Saxon Wall

Dead Men’s Morris

Come Away, Death

St Peter’s Finger

Brazen Tongue