Missing: Presumed Dead Read Online Free Page A

reason in his confession?”
    Patterson raised his eyebrows at the chair. “That’s an exhibit, Guv,” he said apologetically.
    â€œIt should be in the property store then,” Bliss said, rising, giving the chair an accusatory stare.
    â€œSorry, Guv – I’ll get Dowding to deal with it. Anyway, Jonathon Dauntsey said he was visiting his father who had taken a room at the Black Horse.”
    â€œWhy? He had a perfectly good house up the road.”
    â€œI assumed it had something to do with his mother being in the nursing home.”
    â€œYou can’t afford to assume anything in this game. You know that, Pat. Anyway, all is not lost; I’ll ask his mother. Easier still – Get someone at the pub to ask the landlady if she knows.”
    Patterson picked up the phone and was listening to the br-r-ring as Bliss paced meditatively, throwing out his thoughts at random. “Doesn’t make sense ... What’s the motive? ... Why were they there?”
    Someone at the pub answered the phone. “Let’s find out, shall we?” said Patterson asking to speak to one of the detectives.
    The officer was back on the phone in less than a minute. “According to the landlady, the Major didn’t live down here – he ran the estate up in Scotland, and Jonathon Dauntsey told them his father preferred to stay at the pub because there was no-one at the big house to cook and clean – what with his wife being in the nursing home ’n all.”
    â€œOne mystery cleared up, Inspector,” said the sergeant replacing the receiver, relieved that the mystery had not been of his making.
    â€œI wonder what did happen then.”
    â€œWe’ll know as soon as the body turns up.”
    â€œIf it turns up,” said Bliss, reflecting uneasily on the prisoner’s supreme confidence. “What about a motive, Pat? Have you any ideas?”
    â€œHe says he had his reasons ... and don’t forget, Guv, we’ve got the confession.”
    â€œI’ve had at least three murder cases where innocent people have confessed.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œJust to get their fifteen minutes I suppose. But this one’s different – I’ve always started with the body before – two bodies in one case. Anyway, enough speculating. I guess we’d better go and see his wife; it’s nearly ten.”
    The enquiry counter was under siege as they headed out the door. “Bloody vandals ... trampled flower beds ... tyre tracks in the grass ... half-filled a grave ...” A balloon-nosed madman in a dog collar was blasting away at the clerk with a pew-side manner he’d honed as a prison chaplain.
    â€œWhat do you mean, young man – ‘it’s not a crime’?” griped the vicar, “I’d like to speak to someone in authority ...”
    â€œSerg,” the clerk caught them with a look of relief, “is it a crime to fill in a hole?”
    â€œNot as far as I know, lad – never has been. Now digging one ...”
    â€œWhat about the Ecclesiastical Courts Jurisdiction Act?” demanded the vicar.
    Patterson flipped through his memory of legislation but couldn’t place anything relevant. “Sorry, Sir, I’m in a bit of a rush.”
    â€œWait,” said Bliss, half out the door. “What did he say, Pat?”
    â€œSomething about a ... shit!” he turned. “When was this, Sir?”
    â€œLast night ... sometime after evensong. I was ...”
    â€œWhere?” Bliss demanded hastily.
    â€œSt Paul’s. In the churchyard, of course. It took three days to dig, what with all the rain. The funeral’s in less than two hours. The family will be furious. They had to get special dispensation from the diocese. Officially the churchyard’s been closed to new internments for the past ten years ... no ... I tell a lie, longer, probably twelve or more ...”
    â€œSir,” Bliss tried