‘A bit premature, surely? Did you tell him we’ve mislaid those skeletons?’
‘No. I thought it better to allow him to hear officially from you that the skeletons are gone from the crypt.’
‘Oh, well, yes, you’re right. But I still can’t see why he wanted to be in such a hurry to open the grave. You don’t think he’s up to some hanky-panky, do you?’
‘How do you mean, Superintendent?’
‘Moved the skeletons himself in the first place, and restored them to the status quo, ma’am, for some reason we don’t yet fathom.’
‘Whether he himself removed them from the crypt I am unable to say, but I can bear witness to the fact that they have not been restored to their niches. I was careful to assure myself of that, as I, too, thought it somewhat strange that he should have had the mausoleum re-opened without a word to anyone.’
‘I suppose he’s a right to do as he likes on his own land, so long as it’s not against the law,’ said Callon. ‘And it is his own land; it doesn’t count as part of the churchyard.’
‘So the grave is to remain open, presumably until the skeletons are restored to it,’ said Dame Beatrice, thoughtfully.
‘Did he ask you any questions about them, ma’am?’ asked the superintendent.
‘None at all. We descended, examined the shelves, confirmed that there were still the five empty shells, and returned to the surface. You would not consider putting a guard on the lych-gate and keeping the open sarcophagus under observation, I suppose?’
‘We’ve no reason to do that, ma’am. As Mr Callon has just pointed out, Sir Jeremy has a right to do as he pleases on his own property, and if he likes to take the risk of losing more of his ancestors, or of having village louts playing merry hell down there, that, as I see it, is his business. It’s certainly none of ours.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘maybe he knows that those who were responsible for the removal of the five skeletons will seize the opportunity to refill the empty spaces and make the tally complete.’
‘You don’t think Sir Jeremy knows who the tomb-robbers are, and is in cahoots with them (perhaps with a promise of money) to get the skeletons put back?’ said Callon, who, with a more perceptive ear than that of the superintendent, had detected something a little odd in the wording of Dame Beatrice’s last remark.
Dame Beatrice shrugged her thin shoulders, deeming this a sufficient reply to the question. She asked, as the police officers prepared to leave the More to Come, to which she had returned after her meeting with Sir Jeremy:
‘I suppose the new landlord and his wife still deny all knowledge of the use to which the crypt has been put?’
‘No shaking them on that, ma’am,’ said the superintendent. ‘They deny, hook, line and sinker, that they’ve ever been down into it since they took over the pub. They admit they’ve been into the room which opens on to the street, but declare that they’ve never had any occasion to lift the trapdoor, because the pub has a perfectly good cellar at the car-park end of the building, running underneath the public bar. They even took us down there, to prove that there’s no connection between the beer-cellar and what you call the crypt, and there certainly is none.’
‘It seems unlikely that they have never lifted the flap of the trapdoor to the crypt if they knew it was there. One would imagine that curiosity alone would have suggested such a natural procedure,’ observed Dame Beatrice.
‘Oh, I’ve no doubt they have lifted the trapdoor,’ said Callon. ‘It would only be human nature, as you say, Dame Beatrice. I’m perfectly certain that the landlord and, probably, the barman have been down that ladder and had a look round the crypt. All the same, if they’d found any skeletons down there, I don’t believe they’d have kept that discovery to themselves. We’ve had the landlord carefully vetted, and it seems that he has an excellent record with the brewers for acting as a locum when any of their managers or lessees go on holiday, and I’m informed by them that he was actually paid a retaining fee during the winter months so that he and his wife would always be available to fill any gaps caused by illness or holidays, for, as you know, to retain its licence a pub must stay open every day of the year. There is no evidence that the couple have ever before been nearer Seven Wells than one locum job they did in Cambridge a matter of six years ago. I can’t see them monkeying about with dead men’s bones or not reporting them if they found any.’
‘What about the considerable alterations to the inn?’
‘It seems that the brewers have been contemplating opening up bedrooms and making the place residential for some time, and the Shurrocks never opposed it.’
‘Indeed? That scarcely corresponds with the other story we were told.’
‘No, it does not, but which story is the true one is anybody’s guess. All the same, from talks which we’ve had – the super and I – with the villagers, it doesn’t seem as though Shurrock was at all the sort of man to cut his stick in this abrupt sort of fashion, whatever the argument, if there was one. It seems clean out of character, and, in my experience, what’s out of character can bear a bit of explaining.’
‘Undoubtedly,’ Dame Beatrice agreed. ‘Besides, even allowing that the landlord and his wife did resign their position abruptly and in anger, what has happened to the servants? Where are Sukie, Clytie and the lad named Bob? I decline to believe that nothing but loyalty to Mr and Mrs Shurrock impelled them to relinquish their employment in as summary a fashion as the circumstances seem to suggest.’
‘I know, ma’am, and I’ve been pursuing enquiries,’
