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shaking uncontrollably; all the signs told her that trouble was lurking around the corner.

For a moment or two it seemed as if time stood still. Eventually, he lifted his eyes to see her tight-lipped expression, and looked at her in an apologetic, heavy-eyed way. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’

‘Well, it would be nice if you could at least offer me your thoughts on the job in hand, even if you don’t want to tell me what’s going on with you.’

Ricky-Lee’s face broke out into a tired smile. His attention, it appeared, was secured for now.

Disarmed, Charley almost smiled back. ‘Let’s start again, shall we?’ she said, more softly. ‘We know that a tunnel from Crownest leads to this point in the graveyard, and it has been suggested by Josie that Seth Alderman dug this extension himself. Have you any thoughts as to why?’

Ricky-Lee frowned. For a moment he looked disconcerted. Then she saw a spark appear in his eyes. ‘Maybe this plot was already chosen for him, and he made use of it by digging the secret passage to the outside, before it became the site of his grave?’

‘Why would you build a second tunnel so near the first?’

‘This exit is outside the church, the other inside,’ Ricky-Lee said matter-of-factly. ‘Perhaps it was built after the first was bricked up?’

‘Smacks of desperation though.’

‘Surprising what one does, if despairing enough,’ he said, with feeling.

Charley swallowed hard and moved on quickly, desperate for Ricky-Lee not to lose his train of thought.

‘OK,’ she conceded. ‘Maybe, for some unknown reason, he wanted to visit the graveyard, but didn’t want anyone to know?’ She paused to consider what that reason might be. ‘I’m curious,’ she said, looking down into the sunken grave. ‘Why would the grave be sucked up into the ground so?’

His eyes told her that he was surprised that she’d remembered that he knew about such things.

‘What?’ she said, to his unspoken question. ‘Why wouldn’t I make use of your Master’s degree?’

Touched, Ricky-Lee swiftly leaned in to touch the cold, flat side of the gravestone. ‘Well, at a guess the roots from that tree are a contributory factor,’ he said, nodding in the direction of the fallen tree near to the collapsed dry-stone perimeter wall.

‘Meaning?’ said Charley.

‘Considering its location, in what must be one of the wettest parts of the graveyard, I think this is absolutely natural, in fact practically unavoidable, but something else strikes me here. Although this has happened to other graves in this graveyard, it’s not quite as obvious. You see, when soil is replaced into a grave following the coffin going in, it will inevitably contain more air pockets than the compacted soil before evacuation, hence the drop when it settles.’

‘Ah, but what you’re saying is that in your experience, this grave is different from the others?’

‘Well, no, not necessarily. I suggest that since the ground was excavated, it wasn’t compacted with soil as well as the others when the burial had taken place, and it was filled back in.’

With rounded shoulders and hunched back, Ricky-Lee raked his damp fringe off his face. He looked at his watch again, and back at Charley.

‘I knew it.’ Charley cocked an eyebrow and her nostrils flared with rage, as she observed him. ‘Tell me, the horses, the dogs, are they not thrilling enough for you these days? Maybe you’re betting on land snails now?’

There was no mistaking the look in her eyes.

Colour rose in Ricky-Lee’s face. ‘Terrestrial pulmonate gastropod molluscs,’ The words quietly rolled off his tongue.

Charley’s rage flared higher. ‘What the hell?’

Ricky-Lee’s throat was parched, his mouth dry, and his hands shook uncontrollably. Sweat poured from his forehead and neck. ‘Snails and slugs.’

‘I know what they are. I’m a farmer’s daughter for goodness’ sake!’ Momentarily Charley closed her eyes that stung with tears. ‘How can you be so fucking smart one minute, and yet the next so fucking distracted? What the hell has happened to you?’ she said. ‘Look at you, you used to take pride in your appearance. Tell me, are you taking unprescribed drugs? I need to know!’

Ricky-Lee hesitated, and Charley thought he was about to talk to her. She listened expectantly.

‘No, no, just over the counter, honest,’ he said, taking a tablet container out of his pocket and rattling it in front, of her to show her the aspirin. ‘I don’t need help, I’ll be fine.’

Charley didn’t realise that she had been holding her breath until a sigh left her lips. ‘Well, I beg to differ, but if you won’t talk to me, I insist that you speak to a professional.’

Ricky-Lee shook his head repeatedly. ‘Honestly, I’m fine, boss. I had a little bad luck that caused me a few sleepless nights, and I’ve a blinding headache today, but it’ll be okay now, promise.’

Charley took a deep breath. ‘If you say so. I know you don’t want to go back into uniform, but a team is only as strong as Its weakest link, and I can’t afford to carry you, so, if you have any doubts about staying in CID, or if you give me any more cause for concern, you will be on your way, pronto. Do you hear?’

Ricky-Lee reached out and touched Charley’s arm. She flinched. He took a step back. ‘I’m ok, I promise.’

The moment passed and Ricky-Lee continued as if nothing had happened, as he looked back at the grave, but now with renewed interest it seemed. He spoke confidently. ‘I suggest, boss, that the appropriation of such a grave would not have been a reaffirmation of Seth Alderman’s social prominence and his wealth,’ he said.

‘You don’t?’ said Charley. ‘I wonder why he wasn’t buried with the rest of the family?’

Ricky-Lee pursed his lips. ‘Maybe the family tomb was full?’

‘Or he chose not to be buried with the others?’ said Charley.

‘Or maybe those who buried him didn’t want him to be buried with the rest of his family?’

Charley considered the fact. ‘Possibly, and let’s face it, there are enough reasons

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