Bury in Haste by Jean Rowden

their own rights,’ Deepbriar agreed thoughtfully; Bunyard’s reaction had been a little too extreme. Somehow, no matter how impossible it seemed, he had to be involved with the raids on Quinn’s farm.
    ‘How’s life in Cambridge?’ He asked, turning back to face the young student once Joe had gone to the bar.
    ‘Fairly dull most of the time,’ Brook replied. ‘I keep my head down and get on with my work. Reckon I’m lucky to get the chance, I’m not going to waste it living the high life, I’ll be doing my finals in a few months. It sounds as if Minecliff’s been having a bit of excitement, though, what with kidnappings and rustling and midnight bonfires.’
    Deepbriar sighed. ‘As long as I don’t have to start hunting for little green men from Mars, I can stand the rest, even Mrs Emerson leaving the door unlocked at the village hall then claiming it’s been robbed.’
    ‘I didn’t hear about that,’ Brook said. ‘I suppose you’re not allowed to tell me any more.’
    ‘It’s no secret, the whole village is sick of her talking about it. She was in the props store looking through the costumes and she reckoned somebody came in and pushed her over. A burglar she said, but by the time she’d picked herself up he’d gone. Calling him a burglar may not be fair to my way of thinking, seeing as he forgot to steal anything.’ Deepbriar shook his head. ‘As far as I’m concerned that’s an end of it. I’ve got my hands full looking for Ferdy Quinn’s unwanted caller; at least when Bunyard was mobile I knew where to look when Quinn started complaining.’
    ‘Yes,’ Brook said thoughtfully, ‘opening gates and setting barns on fire, they really sound like the sort of things Bert would do. What about Joe though?’ he looked at his friend who was standing at the bar. ‘Are you in charge of the investigation or have the CID taken over? It’s really odd, I mean, he’s such a peaceable soul, he’s got no enemies. Imagine how he felt, coming round to find himself locked up in the dark like that. It must have been terrifying.’
    ‘Reckon it was,’ Deepbriar agreed. But there won’t be any further investigation, not even by me, let alone the plain clothes boys. I’ve been told it’s not a case for the police.’
    ‘Never!’ Brook said indignantly.
    ‘Some think you might be behind it,’ Deepbriar said, watching the young man’s face.
    ‘You don’t, though.’ The young man grinned. ‘There’s a bloke in our hall who could do with taking down a peg, one of those arrogant types who thinks he’s better than me because he went to a posh public school. Locking him up wouldn’t be a bad idea, but I’d never do anything like that to Joe. I can’t imagine anyone doing that to him, he’s always been such a sobersides. We never even got him drunk before his wedding. So, apart from me, you don’t have any suspects.’
    Deepbriar sighed. ‘No, but there were a few juicy clues. It’s a shame there won’t be any fingerprinting, because I had high hopes of the cup that was left on the bonnet of the lorry. Then there’s the tyre tracks, they might have been useful. I’ve got drawings but no photographs, and I don’t know where to go from here. As a matter of fact I was wondering whether that brilliant brain of yours might come up with anything I missed.’
    ‘You’re the professional,’ Brook protested. Then he grinned. ‘Actually I do have a couple of thoughts. Did it occur to you that it might be a case of mistaken identity?’
    ‘Yes, but it would have to have been a fairly stupid mistake. The only other person who’d be driving Wriggle’s lorry into his yard is the old man himself, and he’s sixty if he’s a day, you couldn’t get the two of them mixed up. I wondered if the motive might be robbery, but nothing was taken.’
    ‘Just like the break-in at the village hall,’ Brook pointed out. ‘You don’t think the two things are connected?’
    ‘Mrs Emerson getting knocked over