‘The nursing home rang up. It seems that Tiny Fullalove – whose knee is still very painful – it looks like being a long job – has had an anonymous letter telling him his cousin’s body is to be exhumed. He’s in the devil of a state, naturally, and the matron is so worried about him that she got my telephone number from him and rang to see whether I could throw any light on the matter. I couldn’t, of course! Told her (not too truthfully) that I hadn’t the ghost of a notion of such a thing, and added that it must be quite ridiculous.’

‘What else did you tell her?’

‘The verdict at the inquest – misadventure – heart-failure due to cold and exposure. Told her as well that there were no queries from the jury, and that the medical evidence was perfectly straightforward.’

‘You reassured her, then?’

‘Good heavens, yes! Told her that, as a matter of fact, there had been one or two of these anonymous letters going round, and that we were going to get the police on to it.’

‘Yes, I see.’

‘She sounded a sensible sort of woman,’ Jonathan continued, ‘so I hope she can calm Tiny’s mind. Rotten thing really to be tied down like that with all this dynamite whizzing round the village … Do you honestly think Bill was murdered? If so, how?’

‘My present theory is quite unsupported by facts. Did I hear you say that Sally was coming over?’

‘Yes. She’s bringing Rhu, and she’s longing to see you again.’ He accepted the change of subject with a grin. He knew that his aunt’s brain was never more busy than when she went off on a conversational sidetrack.

CHAPTER 7

No Names, No Packdrill

‘Why art thou for delay?

Thou cam’st not here to stay.’

Richard Baxter

The arrival of Sally, niece to Mrs Bradley’s first husband and cousin by courtesy to Jonathan, (she was on the Lestrange family tree and had no blood relationship with the Bradleys), coincided with that of the police.

She came in a Hillman and the police in a Morris, and the two cars ground up Jonathan’s wet and muddy drive with Sally in the lead and the police about thirty yards behind.

‘Good Lord!’ said Jonathan, who knew Sally very well and had once thought of asking her to marry him. ‘Don’t say you’re going to be pinched on my very doorstep! Don’t you know that I’m a Justice of the Peace?’

‘I do know,’ said Sally. ‘I’ve been terrified. They began to follow me just as I turned out of Cirencester, and they’ve been tagging along ever since. I thought at first it must be accidental, but when they came into the village behind me and then turned up this drive …’

‘I beg pardon, sir,’ said a very smart sergeant of the Gloucestershire constabulary, ‘but might I have a word?’