Death of a Burrowing Mole

any contribution to make. Most of the men were builders’ labourers and, having done a day’s work and then sunk a jar or two at the local after the seven o’clock hostel supper, were only too ready to turn in.

‘Who runs your organisation?’ Mowbray asked the warden. ‘I mean, who are your sponsors and who pays your salary?’

It appeared that the venture was an ecumenical one sponsored by the local churches and was supposed to be self-supporting. The warden’s own salary was paid monthly by the committee treasurer and the accounts of the hostel were audited every six months. The hostel had been established when unemployment elsewhere had brought men south in search of jobs. The majority were young and unmarried. Stickle was a widower and was one of the few older men who used the hostel as a temporary base.

‘Well,’ said Mowbray to Detective-Sergeant Harrow, as they left the hostel, ‘nobody wasn’t sayin’ nuffink to us, but I bet there are plenty of rumours flying around among those chaps. The warden can think what he likes, but my bet is that those two men sneaked back to the castle at night as soon as they knew that the caravan had been moved away from the site, got busy with pick and shovel to look for this supposed treasure and are responsible for all that damage to the trenches. Then I reckon they had a row. Stour, the younger man, was using the pick and in the heat of the moment he settled the argument while Stickle was grubbing in the loose soil with his hands. There was plenty of dirt under his fingernails when we found the body.’

‘We’ve no clue that they damaged those trenches or that Stickle was killed at the castle, sir.’

‘I know, and that brings me back to my main stumbling-block. Why choose the manor woods for the body and the motorbike? Still, I’ve got to start somewhere. We shall never get any further with Veryan’s death. The only thing we’ve got is the absence of fingerprints on that telescope. With Stickle we’ve got an undisputed case of murder, and it will be very hard if we can’t get somewhere with that.’

‘If it means house-to-house enquiries, it’s going to need all the men we’ve got, sir.’

‘I know, because we shall have to go further afield than Holdy village. Dame Beatrice wants a couple of men on the site to help with restoring those damaged trenches and the Chief Constable has told me that I must let her have them, however little I can spare them. From what that warden said, I have a hunch that I know why she wants policemen present. If he’s right, and Stour’s body turns up, we’re back to square one.’

‘Thanks for the loan of the car,’ said Fiona, handing back its keys to Tom.

‘Hire of the car,’ he said. ‘I was the gainer. Besides, it was much better to keep it moving, rather than let it stand idle for weeks.’

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Offer our services to Dame Beatrice. We see ourselves as amateur sleuths.’

‘It’s pretty horrible to think I might have been in those woods with a dead body.’

‘But you weren’t. The body was put there days after that weekend when we all downed tools. What are you two going to do with the rest of the vac?’

‘We offered Nicholas our help with clearing up his trenches, but he said it will be a job for navvies because he is opting out. His work is ruined, he says. Priscilla is going to keep me company while my parents are away and Nicholas said he would let us know if there is anything we can do for him later on, but I’m sure he doesn’t want us on another dig.’

‘And Dr Lochlure?’ asked Tom. Fiona spread out her hands and shrugged her shoulders.

‘That’s French for “I don’t know and I couldn’t care less”,’ she said.

‘She will be with Tynant,’ said Priscilla, ‘and they will go to the garden of the Hesperides.’

‘And I shall eat little green apples,’ said Tom.

‘Poor Tom’s a-cold,’ said Priscilla.

‘He needn’t be. She has finished with Tynant,’ said Fiona. ‘I saw them together. He was dead white and she had a bright red spot on either cheek and I heard her say, “You can’t publish your beastly book now that Malpas is dead.” He said, “Of course I can. False conclusions ought to be challenged, whether the author is dead or alive.” They went off together in Tynant’s car, but I think he was only giving her a lift.’

‘I think he is right to insist on publication,’ said Priscilla. ‘It is quite wrong to let sentiment hold up progress. I wonder what the book is about?’

‘If you two are going to Fiona’s home,’ said Bonamy, ‘you had better let us take you there, unless you’ve fixed up some other form of transport.’

‘We were going to ask the Saltergates. They have decided to go now, but may return later and see what can be done about those foundations that got damaged when the site was vandalised,’ said Fiona. ‘Anyway, thanks for your offer. We’ll be glad of it, and they’ll be glad not to be taken out of their way.’

‘Will your gear need both cars?’

‘Oh, no, it’s only suitcases.’

‘I shall be thankful to get away from this place,’ said Priscilla. ‘We’ve worked like slaves, then all this wretched business with the police after Professor Veryan died, and having to tell all those lies because we were scared and confused, and now one of the workmen has murdered the other one and a lot of the careful work that we’ve all sweated over has been destroyed—’

‘Oh, not destroyed; only badly messed up. It can be put right,’ said Bonamy. ‘Whoever did it hadn’t got time to do any permanent damage. Once people have got over their anger and disappointment, we’ll all be back.’

‘One thing,’ said Fiona, ‘at last we are off the hook. I suppose even the police don’t believe there can be two murderers in a place this size. Whoever killed this workman must have killed Veryan, if anyone did. We’ve never been told why the police were so suspicious about his death. I still don’t see why it couldn’t have been an accident.’

‘Well, we had better be moving,’ said Bonamy, ‘if we’re going to drop these girls at Fiona’s place before we join my godmother at Holdy Bay. I can’t think why she has decided to stay there again, but I shouldn’t think it would be for long.’