dream, though when I tried to wake myself up I couldn’t. Then suddenly this man appeared. There must have been a bit of light coming in, not much though, because he wasn’t much more than a shape looming over me. He seemed to come out of nowhere.’
‘Did you see his face?’
‘No. I tell you, he was just a shadow.’
‘Was he tall? Thin or fat?’
‘Not small. I’m not sure. I was scared half out of my wits.’ Joe flushed, a deep shade of pink spreading across his face. ‘All this could have been a nightmare, couldn’t it?’ He looked at Deepbriar pleadingly.
‘It could, but I don’t think it was, and you don’t either, not if you’re honest with yourself.’ He gave the young man a searching look and Joe shook his head miserably.
‘The ground you were lying on, what did it feel like?’
Joe considered for a while. ‘Hard. And rough. Like stone.’
Deepbriar nodded thoughtfully. ‘That matches the dust on your coat, it had to come from somewhere. I’m sure you weren’t dreaming, Joe. Go on, this man appeared, then what?’
‘He threw something over my head, and then these hands grabbed me.’
‘You mean the man took hold of you?’
‘I don’t think it was him, not at first. There must have been more than one of them. I tried to fight and I was shouting at them to let me go. They got me rolled up in a blanket or something, and it was so tight over my face I could hardly breathe. There was a funny smell, sort of sickly. I don’t remember much more after that.’
‘You didn’t hear anything? These men didn’t talk to each other?’
‘No.’ Joe shook his head. ‘Hang on, though. Right at the end I was in a bit of a panic, I was going fair crazy. Somebody yelled. I think I might have kicked one of them. I hope I did,’ he added fervently. ‘I hope I got him right where it hurts.’
Dusk was falling as Constable Deepbriar opened the door of the police house. There was still an ominous silence within. The telephone rang, and he went to answer it.
‘Good afternoon, constable.’ Father Michael’s cheerful voice greeted him. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’
‘Of course not,’ Deepbriar replied, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘I had a word with Mr Crimmon, and I’m afraid it will be several weeks before he’s able to play the organ again. I gather he shut his hand in a door. I’ve asked young Nicky to play for evensong today, but we’ve a couple of weddings coming up, as well as the regular services. I’d be grateful if you could fill in for us.’
‘My pleasure. I’ll have a word with my sergeant, and see if I can arrange my duty to leave me free when I’m needed, if you’ll let me have the dates.’
‘Excellent! I’ll ask Miss Lightfall to contact you with the details.’
‘Tell Mr Crimmon I’m sorry to hear about his hand. I thought he looked a bit upset this morning.’
‘Ahh yes. He’s inclined to be a little jealous of his position, I don’t think he likes to see other people sitting in his place, as it were. No matter, a little hardship is good for the soul. Give my regards to Mrs Deepbriar.’
‘When I see her,’ the constable muttered gloomily, as he replaced the receiver. Feeling like a martyr he made himself a cup of tea in the deserted kitchen and sat down at the table, staring at the new Dick Bland which lay on the dresser where he’d put it the previous day. Alongside it was the package Harry Bartle had given him. He got up and fetched it, unwrapping the brown paper to reveal a garish paper-covered book.
A woman of the less respectable kind, wearing a red dress that showed off far more of her figure than would be considered respectable in Minecliff, glared at a dark man in a homburg hat. A cigarette dangled from her painted and pouting lips. ‘Mitch O’Hara and the Thousand Dollar Dame,’ the title proclaimed.
Like Deepbriar, Harry was an avid reader of detective stories, and devoured all he could get his hands on; this book was