Up from the Grave Read Online Free PDF

mistake.”
    Goodnight, standing next to Berdie, grunted, took a deep breath, and trumpeted across the crowd, “I’m declaring this a crime scene. You lot go home now.”
    “Albert, is this really necessary?” Mr. Webb’s disgust was in sharp contrast to his smart dress.
    “Do pigs grunt?”
    “Reverend Elliott, Wilkie Gordon’s collapsed,” a voice cried out.
    Berdie caught her breath as Hugh, quite fit for a man his age, nearly hurdled the chairs to get to Mr. Gordon. A small group had gathered round.
    “I appreciate your concern, but please stand back, give him room to breathe,” Hugh ordered.
    Edsel came next to Hugh and moved people along as Hugh attended to the old gentleman.
    “I said go home!” Goodnight bellowed like an evening foghorn.
    Whipped by the swirl of events and Goodnight’s volume, a mad migration of people took flight for the front road. Chairs tipped and children were swept up. Mr. Webb hurriedly escorted the contessa back to her limousine, and Dave Exton, who seemed to relish the action, went snap happy with his camera.
    Dr. Meredith turned his attention to Hugh and Mr. Gordon. He took a step.
    “Stay right here, Doctor. Vicar’s doin’ a fine job,” Goodnight growled.
    “Are you mad, Goodnight?” Dr. Meredith frowned and moved quickly to Wilkie’s side.
    Berdie took in the policeman. “Shouldn’t you be doing something to help Mr. Gordon, Constable Goodnight?”
    “More important I keep an eye on this.” The law officer stabbed his thumb in the direction of the skeleton. “I shall be calling the Yard in on this.”
    Berdie could see that her husband and the doctor were taking care of the old fellow. Nonetheless, she felt constrained to be close to Mr. Gordon. After all, would his outburst have been prevented if she had gotten Hugh to speak with him?
    When Berdie got to him, the bit red Wilkie was sitting up and breathing regularly as Loren checked his pulse. Ivy was at her uncle’s side.
    “I’m fine. Leave me be,” the man said weakly.
    “Mr. Gordon, I believe you and I are going to make our way to Dr. Honeywell’s office,” Hugh decreed.
    “As a physician, I must say it really is the thing to do immediately.” Loren examined Wilkie’s eyes. “Yes, should do.”
    The home of the village doctor, George Honeywell, wasn’t far.
    Wilkie Gordon blinked and squeezed his lips.
    “Please, Uncle.” Ivy’s voice was kind but firm.
    “What about my Mary? She’s by herself.”
    “I’ll see to Aunt Mary. Now off you go.” Ivy shooed them away with a wave of her hands.
    Hugh and Dr. Meredith helped the man to his feet.
    Berdie put her hand on his shoulder. “Your Mary would want you to see Dr. Honeywell.”
    Wilkie gave a tiny nod. “But don’t let on what happened here.” He turned to Ivy. “None of it. Just tell her I’m momentarily with the Reverend. Promise me.”
    Ivy was somewhat befuddled. “But…”
    “Promise me.” His raised voice sent his face scarlet again.
    “Yes, yes, Uncle Wilkie, I promise.” Ivy placed her hand on her uncle’s back. “Please calm yourself.”
    “I’ll get the car then.” Hugh was off to the vicarage drive almost as quickly as he had hurdled chairs.
    Berdie stood at Wilkie’s side, and Loren steadied the fellow. Ivy was to the off, heading in the direction of the Gordon’s home.
    “Please,” the oldster had a tone of desperation, “don’t tell Mary. She’s so ill, she needn’t have more concern.”
    “Not to worry,” Berdie assured him. She was already keenly aware that his wife had been undergoing special medical treatments in Timsley.
    Hugh brought the car round. He and Loren settled Wilkie in the vehicle.
    “Do you need me to come with you?” Berdie whispered circumspectly to Hugh.
    “Thank you, love, but I need you to see to matters here.” Hugh glanced quickly at the constable.
    “Oh I’d love to give that ‘matter’ a right ear full, frightening the children and causing havoc.”
    “Berdie,”