Manor House 04 - Dig Deep for Murder Read Online Free PDF

waited in the gathering darkness while the doctor did his gruesome work. The smell was really quite awful, even though she stood several yards upwind of the makeshift grave.
    "I hope you're not getting yourself mixed up in this mess," Earl muttered. "Whoever killed that poor guy could still be lurking around somewhere. He won't take too kindly to someone poking around and asking questions about it."
    "Probably not," Elizabeth agreed. "But he should havethought about that before he buried his victim in my Victory Garden."
    Thanks to the constables' discreet use of torches, she couldn't see the expression on his face, but she heard the wry amusement in his voice when he answered. "Guess he doesn't know you too well, or he'd have found somewhere else to hide the body."
    She was saved from answering that when George's voice startled her.
    "Well, we think we know who he is, your ladyship."
    The grass had deadened his footsteps, so she hadn't heard him approach. She spun around, blinking in the beam of George's torch. His face looked greenish in the subdued glow. He wasn't wearing his helmet, and she could see beads of sweat traveling down his forehead from the round bald patch on his head.
    Feeling sorry for him, she asked eagerly, "Is it one of the villagers?"
    "Well, we can't say for sure, m'm. Not until he's been properly identified, so to speak, but Sid recognized the coat and the scarf the poor blighter wore around his neck. Also, there's a photograph of a dog in his pocket, among other things. Sid recognized that, too."
    "So who is he, George?"
    "Well, I can't really say right now, m'm—"
    "Of course you can," Elizabeth said impatiently. "Don't be a bore, George. You know I'm going to find out sooner or later, so you might as well tell me now."
    "Can't say until he's been identified proper like," George said, with irritating finality.
    Just then Sid arrived out of the gloom and paused at George's elbow. "We'd better get down to Betty Stewart's house," he said. "She'll be wondering about her husband, poor sod. Doc says he'll take Reggie's body with him in the backseat. One of us will have to walk back to the village, unless you want to sit next to poor old Reggie?"
    George had turned on Sid in a frantic attempt to shushhim. Having failed, he cuffed his partner's ear. "How many times have I told you to keep your blinking mouth shut?"
    "Betty Stewart is one of my tenants," Elizabeth said, her heart going out to the poor woman. "It's my duty to come with you when you inform her that her husband has died so brutally."
    "Lady Elizabeth—"
    Earl murmured her name just as George said loudly, "That really won't be necessary, your ladyship."
    "Excuse me, but I think it is quite necessary. You know how flustered you get when faced with a hysterical woman. Sid can go with the doctor in his car, and I'll take you down to Betty Stewart's house in my sidecar. That way nobody has to walk down to the village."
    "That's very kind of you, your ladyship," George said, "but I wouldn't want to put you out—"
    "Come along, George," Elizabeth said, losing patience entirely. "It's getting late, and I haven't had my supper yet. The sooner we get this over with, the better."
    "Wait a minute." Earl stepped forward. "I don't think your ladyship should be driving that motorbike on these roads at night, without lights. I'll take you both down to the village in the jeep, and I'll bring you home again after we drop George off at his house."
    She looked at him, knowing he couldn't see the gratitude in her eyes. "I couldn't possibly let you do that, Major," she murmured, just to be polite.
    "Let's go." Ignoring her protest, he marched off, heading for the courtyard.
    Elizabeth had to run to catch up with his long stride, leaving George straggling behind them. "This is really very good of you," she said between puffs, as they hurried across the grass together. "But I hate to take up your time when you badly need to rest."
    "Just how much rest do you think