The Grub-And-Stakers Quilt a Bee Read Online Free PDF Page B

windows just before he left for supper?” said Osbert.
    “That was the general assumption, yes. I have so far advanced no alternative theory, except among yourselves.”
    “And we’re to keep it among ourselves, eh?”
    “You are. That includes you, Miss Monk.”
    “I should hope so, egad,” Arethusa replied. “I shall sit mumchance at the sideboard, like the twenty-ninth of February.”
    “Huh?” said her nephew.
    “Don’t make noises like an illiterate nincompoop, Osbert, though I suppose it’s too late to hope you’ll ever be anything else.
    Where did Dr. Somervell get to?”
    “He took Minerva and Mrs. Fairfield back to the Oakes house in his car. It was his recommendation that Mrs. Fairfield be given a sedative and put to bed, since she was by then in what is commonly referred to as a state. I should assume she is now being ministered to, no doubt by Zilla Trott, with a nice cup of camomile tea.”
    “No doubt,” said Osbert, to show he was unscathed by his aunt’s disdain. “What happened to the body?”
    “It was carried to Dr. Somervell’s office for further examination, by willing volunteers using a stretcher provided by Roger Munson.”
     
    Dittany nodded. Hazel’s husband was not the sort of man to be caught without a stretcher in time of need.
    “When Dr. Somervell and I have completed more detailed observations,”
    Sergeant MacVicar went on, “the corpus delicti will be sent along to the undertaker in Scottsbeck, pending Mrs. Fairfield’s instructions as to its final resting place.”
    “It’s rather awful to be thinking of Mr. Fairfield as remains.”
    Dittany fastened the top button of her cardigan and snuggled closer to Osbert. “A few hours ago, he was crowing like a barnyard cock over a wooden potato basher Crandsire CoskofFs new wife brought in. Sergeant MacVicar, do you have any idea at all who did it?”

CHAPTER 4
    Arethusa stopped giving Osbert dirty looks and turned to Dittany with a gaze of wonderment. “Did what, forsooth?”
    “Shoved Mr. Fairfield off the roof, of course. Surely you don’t think he was up there by himself practicing swan dives?”
    Sergeant Mac Vicar cleared his throat. “It ill becomes us to form conclusions before we have examined the evidence, Dittany. Deputy Monk, you are a far younger man than I, and one whose powers of observation and deduction have proved efficacious during your previous unpaid but far from unappreciated service to the police force. Perhaps you would be good enough to accompany me to the top of this somewhat overflossy stairwell, from which access to the roof can be gained via the skylight.”
    Osbert blushed and stammered that he’d be delighted. “Do we need to fetch a ladder?” he asked, ready to give his all for the cause.
    “There’s one up there,” Dittany said. “The roofer left it. We’ve had to get the skylight repaired because it was leaking buckets and ruining all the plaster that hadn’t been ruined already.”
    “You never told me, darling.”
    “I didn’t want to burden you with trivia when you were trying so hard to finish your book before you went to Toronto, darling.”
    “Oh, darling, have I been neglecting you?”
    “Unhand her, varlet,” cried Arethusa. “Sergeant MacVicar, haven’t we any town ordinances against public displays of wanton lust?”
    Sergeant MacVicar rubbed his hand across his chin to hide a paternal smile. “Noo, Miss Monk, let us e’en be tolerant to the wee follies of those but newly wed. Dittany lass, do I take there has been much going up and coming down within the recent past?”
    “I should jolly well hope so. The roofer’s sent in a bill that would choke a walrus.”
    “Then if the work has been completed, why has the ladder not been taken away?”
    “Because he hasn’t got around to it, I suppose-or else because we’ve told him we’re not paying the bill until we’ve had a good, soaking rain and made darn sure the leaks are really fixed.”
    “Cannily