Rupert sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee when Joyce appeared. "You had a restless night. Did you get any sleep?"

"I slept a little. Why is it that every dead body I see upsets me?"

"Because you care and want the person responsible locked up and the key lost."

She filled her cup with coffee. "The killers get life, appeal the sentence and end up back on the streets sooner than they should be. Remember Dirty Harry, he had the right idea, which saved a ton of paperwork."

"Harry Callahan, your favourite fictional copper and American. I hope we never reach their readiness to shoot first and ask questions afterwards."

She seated herself. "There was a time we never carried a gun. What are you up to today?"

"Exhuming Paul Sinclair but looking for victim number two, April Thompson."

"I hope you find her. Closure is important."

"Julian will think he's won the lottery if I don't. Not being under his control annoys him. Did you know we had to cover the grave with a tent to give the deceased privacy as if he gives a toss?"

"Prevents inquisitive reporters making it up as they go along. You know how it is before an exhumation, so the site must be prepared. You know as well as I do that a few twist the facts until they fit their story."

"Bit harsh; most reporters are doing their job."

"I know, but if they get wind of the force digging up bodies, the proverbial will hit the fan. The biggest problem is me."

She looked at him. "I'm not sure what you mean."

He grinned. "Can you remember the last time we exhumed a body in this county?"

"I can't. Don't tell me this is a first."

"You'd better believe it, and I requested it." He glanced at his watch. "I'll be at the cemetery or the vicar's office if you need to contact me."

Joyce met his gaze. "If my assumption is correct, I'll be arresting Jack Watson for the murder of Christabel Anderson."

"Best of luck. Jack never gets his hands dirty."

She fell silent for a moment. "There's always a first time."

Like you, I'll start with the facts and gather enough evidence to charge him."

Rupert held her hands. "I've no intention of teaching you how to suck eggs, but Jacks, legal beagle, will twist every word if you say one out of place. I know you better than you know yourself. Go and screw the bastard to the wall."

Joyce folded her arms across her chest. "Have you seen the time? I'm out of here." She kissed him on the lips, grabbed her coat, bag, and car keys, and left the house.

Rupert tidied the kitchen and checked the back door before leaving for St Andrews Church.

***

The desk sergeant lifted his head as Joyce strolled into the station. "Morning, guv. Inspector Jones is wearing out the carpet in the incident room. I understand he wants to speak with you."

She checked the time. "He's early."

The sergeant laughed. "He bit my head off when I made the same comment."

"I'll pop in and see him on my way upstairs.

Joyce pears across the room at Jones, who drinks tea and has his feet on a desk. "You want to speak to me, inspector?" She notices the empty box on the floor, which once contained a McDonald's bacon roll.

He jumped, and tea splashed on his shirt. "You were correct. The dead woman is Cristobel Anderson."

"Am I disturbing your breakfast, Inspector?"

"I finished it ages ago, guv. What's our next move? Are we going to arrest Jack Watson?"

Joyce raised her eyebrows. "Inspector, Why aren't you at the mortuary?"

"What's the rush? The dead woman isn't going anywhere."

Joyce let her gaze wander around the room and smiled non-committal. "Inspector, when I joined the force, you were a sergeant with an alcohol problem. I overtook you. Years later, after joining the AA, they promoted you to acting inspector. What's it been, five tears since you last had a drink? Do you want to be a sergeant again?"

"I didn't think guv. It's the first murder I've dealt with in years. I've always been the shitty job officer. You know that."

Joyce glares at him. "I suggest we sit and have a chat."

"Yes, guv."

As soon as they are seated, Joyce starts. "I allow members of my team one mistake, and they know what comes next if they cock up. You are an inspector, so I suggest you act like one or retire early. Your decision, Inspector Jones."

"Don't you worry, guv. I'll be at the mortuary if you need me."

"Pleased we understand each other." She watched him leave before walking to her office.

***

St Andrew's church car park had one space remaining when Rupert arrived. He swore and gazed around for somewhere else.

Maggie tapped on the driver's side window.

Rupert opened it fully. "I should have left home earlier."

Maggie chuckled. "You're the governor. I coned this off before the world arrived.

"Maggie, why are you and Joyce always looking after me?

Joyce loves you, and looking after my boss is my job. Two seconds, and I'll move the cones."

Out of his car, Rupert glanced at the oversized tent covering the grave site. "How's it going?"

"Rather slowly. There's a health and safety inspector from the council. Bit of a Pratt and insists he's in charge."

"I better introduce myself."

Together, they strolled along the path to the tent.

A bespectacled man appeared from inside. "And you are."

"He's my boss and the officer who requested the exhumation."

Rupert held out his right hand. "Rupert Parsons. My apologies for my lateness, but could you brief me on the progress?"

The man raises his eyebrows. "Yes, sir. As you can see, we are digging a trench alongside the existing grave. This should give us guidance on the depth of the previous burial. When we have this information, I will tell the digger operator to remove the soil above the coffin."

Rupert smiled. "Congratulations. You appear to have everything under control. Can you please tell me your name? I'll need it for my paperwork." His smooth talk was not wasted as the man smiled.

"Declan O'Conner, sir."

Maggie scribbled the name in her notebook.

"Thank you." Said Rupert. "My sergeant and I will stay out of your hair. A walk around the area will do us both good."

Declan became friendliness himself. "I'll give you a shout if anything changes."

"Maggie, it's time we breathed in some of this wonderful fresh air."

With satisfaction in their steps, they set off around the church. "You forgot to tell Declan I'm not a police officer."

"I never lied, and he didn't ask to see your warrant card. You made him feel good."

"Always best if council officials are on your side. Wind them up, and they make life difficult. I've been here many times but only inside the church once. I'm a bit of a history freak. Shall we go inside?"

With Maggie following, they entered the silent interior.

Rupert's eyes scanned the stonework. "Definitely Norman construction, but the far end might be the remains of the original Saxon building. It was all about control. In those times, most people could not read or write. To inform the locals, the priest or maybe a monk guided them as to what the lord wanted from them. He would also hint at the punishment if they failed. Being the priest was a powerful position. That's one of the main reasons Henry the Eighth did what he did. The Bishops in those days were all-powerful.

"The vicar told me if we wanted tea or coffee, he would be in the vicarage all day and like it or not, I need the little girl's room."

A man wearing dark blue overalls and a thick tweed jacket shouted from the entrance. "Mr Parsons."

"That's me." Said Rupert.

"Mr O'Conner says they've found something."

Rupert and Maggie walked towards him. "Any idea what it is?"

"I'm the gofer, mate. He tells me nothing."

Maggie smiled. "Thank you."

On their return to the tented grave, Declan appeared disturbed.

"Do we have a problem?" Asks Rupert.

"I don't understand. The coffin is in reasonable condition, but I believe the digger's bucket raised a right arm."

"Rupert grimaced. "Can I see it?"

"It's still in the bucket."

The digger operator had placed the bucket on solid ground. "With reverence, he lifted the skeletal remains of a right arm. He peered into the trench. The side of the coffin from the previous burial was still intact. This is what he feared. April Thompson was no longer missing. He had found her.