Old Bones Read Online Free PDF Page B

pulled open the next drawer up, revealing a similar set of bones, then the one above and the one above that, each with the same macabre contents.
    â€˜The university possesses several human skeletons,’ he explained, ‘all of which are carefully labelled and recorded. A missing skeleton would quickly have been noticed, but a similar one, also with a broken neck, would pass casual inspection, and indeed, anything short of being brought out for study by an anthropologist, something the relevant departments at Solsbury currently lack. Hodges was working as a porter here, and no doubt weighed the risks involved, quite well in my estimation. You’ll have realised, of course, that his choice of a skeleton with damaged neck bones provides strong evidence that he knew how Sixsmith died, and at least implies that he was present at the time.
    â€˜That also explains why no trace of Sixsmith was found. No doubt his body was wrapped up, probably in plastic sheeting or something similar. Hodges would have known that, thus allowing him to retrieve the entire skeleton. Indeed, it is easy to envision the entire, ghastly process. Yes, I think we can fairly speculate that he would have removed the bones of Thomas Baker first, taking the risk that their absence would be noticed as less than that of having to visit the grave site twice. He’d have then driven to Hertfordshire, effected the exchange, evidently with great care, and returned here. No doubt there would have been a little preparation to do, the sordid details of which are probably best not dwelt on, but as a porter here he’d have been able to get hold of chemicals such as ammonia with no great difficulty. A day, maybe two, and he’d have been able to place Sixsmith’s bones where you now see them. And voila! ’
    â€˜Time to arrest Victor Hodges then,’ she replied. ‘Thank you, Charles.’
    â€˜Time enough for a glass of Champagne to celebrate, I’d have thought,’ de Lacy replied, determined not to miss what might be his last opportunity to invite her to bed, ‘if you’d care to join me in my room at The Bell?’
    De Lacy was smiling happily as he strode out from the door of his club. It was an expression he’d worn almost continuously for the best part of a month, partly for the satisfaction of the way he’d solved The Case of the Incriminatory Skeleton, but far more for the memory of the warm, sensual embraces he’d enjoyed from Detective Sergeant Susan McIntyre in his room at The Bell that same afternoon. She had been a little surprised at his invitation, having assumed that he’d been holding himself aloof because he felt he was too good for her, but once the misunderstanding had been cleared up and they’d shared a bottle of Krug she had given free rein to her passion.
    The encounter had not been repeated, but there was at least the implication that it might be, adding a pleasant sense of anticipation to de Lacy’s generally good mood. His efforts had also born fruit, with the arrest not only of Victor Hodges but of William Whadcoat, with the police apparently convinced that modern forensic methods and the possibility of finding new witnesses could secure a conviction, while there was also the confession of John Fellowes. Even his modicum of sympathy for Hodges was no longer an issue, it having died after the encounter with Mark Whadcoat, who had evidently been tipped off. To make de Lacy’s happiness complete there had been no sign of Mark Whadcoat, who was clearly no more than a bully, relying on the reputation of his family to make his threats seem realistic but in practise too concerned for his position as a businessman to risk the consequences.
    Now whistling an air from a favourite musical, de Lacy turned into St Alban’s Street, stepping out to go around a black Mercedes parked with one wheel on the pavement and glimpsing no more than a movement in the shadows before a