The Plague Maiden Read Online Free PDF

week later after an anonymous tip-off. Hobson
     was a known burglar and it was assumed by everyone concerned that he had panicked after being disturbed.
    Hobson couldn’t explain how the silver came to be in his flat. He had admitted that he was in Belsham on the night of the
     murder but he claimed that when he had come out of Belsham’s only pub, the Horse and Farrier, he had gone straight home to
     his flat in Morbay where he had spent the rest of the evening. Even Hobson’s defence barrister reckoned this tale was a bit
     feeble and played it down in court. Witnesses had come forward to say that a man answering Hobson’s description had been seen
     drinking alone in the Horse and Farrier. And according to these witnesses he had seemed nervous and had left the pub around
     the estimated time of the murder.
    Hobson had offered no explanation for his presence in Belsham and no alibi for the time of Shipborne’s death. Then, later
     on, he had tried to change his story, saying that he’d met a woman in Belsham on the evening of the murder but, as she was
     married, he hadn’t wanted to involve her. However, when he said that the woman had conveniently left the country – whereabouts
     unknown – nobody took the story very seriously. The stolen silver had been found in his flat and the evidence against him
     was overwhelming. Wesley closed the file slowly. Gerry had been right. It did seem to be an open-and-shut case. No question
     about it.
    The telephone on his desk rang and he picked it up. Perhaps it was a good job the Chris Hobson case looked so clear cut. Although
     the criminals of Tradmouth and district were suffering an attack of communal sloth this week, they were bound to start working
     at their usual frantic pace soon enough.
    ‘Wes?’
    Wesley recognised the voice at once. ‘Neil. I hope this is a social call.’ He spoke softly, not wishing his colleaguesto overhear, especially Steve Carstairs, who was looking in his direction disapprovingly.
    ‘Not exactly. We’ve found a couple of skeletons. I’ve let the coroner know and I’m just reporting it to you. Okay?’
    ‘A couple?’ Wesley’s heart sank. He thought of undiscovered serial killers; overtime; not getting home till all hours and
     Pam turning into a vengeful harridan with a down on the police force. Would Michael forget what he looked like? And the new
     baby due next month … would he ever see it? These thoughts flashed through his mind in a split second, then Neil answered,
     confirming his worst nightmares.
    ‘Well, it’s only a couple so far but I shouldn’t be surprised if there were more down there.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Place called Belsham, just outside Neston.’
    ‘Sure you’re not digging up the graveyard?’
    Neil didn’t dignify Wesley’s flippant question with a reply. ‘It’s a field on the edge of the village. Huntings supermarkets
     have bought the land and we were just investigating the site prior to the concrete going in. Routine stuff.’
    ‘Are they proper burials?’
    ‘Not exactly. They look as if they’ve all been chucked in.’
    ‘Is it near the church? Could it be an old part of the graveyard that’s fallen into disuse over the centuries?’
    ‘It’s not that near the church and they’re certainly not in individual graves.’
    ‘Any idea how old they are?’
    ‘There’s a bit of medieval pottery around but not much else. Do you want to come down and have a look? Bring Colin Bowman
     with you.’
    ‘Is there any chance they could be modern?’ Wesley closed his eyes, hoping, praying, that the answer would be no.
    ‘I can’t rule it out at the moment.’
    Wesley’s heart sank. ‘Great.’
    ‘Don’t be like that, Wes. Could be worse.’ Neil sounded inappropriately cheerful.
    ‘Could it? Look, carry on excavating the bones and seal off the site. I’ll come down and have a look and I’ll let Colin know.
     Okay?’
    He put the phone down and sank his head into his hands. If Neil had