Evan's Gate by Rhys Bowen Page B

then? I won’t need you before four, only take your mobile along this time, just in case something comes up, okay?”
    “Okay. Thanks. As it happens, I’ve got something I’m dying to do.”
    “Take a nap?”
    “No, dig out a sewer line,” Evan said, with a smile.
    The weather was fast deteriorating again as Evan made his way up the mountain track, clutching a spade. For the first time he reconsidered Mr. Pilcher’s thoughts on not finding the view so thrilling when he had to stagger home with groceries. Of course they’d have a car, wouldn’t they? Bronwen wouldn’t have to carry the shopping up from the road on foot. But they only had one car, and he’d need it to drive to work. Possible complication ahead. He brushed it from his mind and set about attacking the task in hand.
    There was a low stone wall around the cottage, and the previous occupants had made some attempt at starting a garden. It hadn’t been too successful, given the exposed setting and the fact that it had been a holiday cottage and they had only shown up sporadically. There were a couple of good-sized bushes growing by the front gate. There had been roses along the house walls, but the fire had wiped them out. Still, the beds had been dug and it was a start. He stood at the gate, picturing the finished product—the beds a mass of blooms, a small kitchen garden at the rear, new roses climbing over the front door. He had never done much gardening himself, having lived in a terraced house in a city for most of his life, but Bronwen loved to garden and possessed a green thumb. If anyone could make a go of this, she could.
    The first spatters of rain in his face reminded him that he’d better get on if he wanted to dig out the sewer line today. He had seen the septic tank on the plans, and he knew that the sewer and water lines pretty much followed the front path. That involved
taking out flagstones before he started. He put his spade under the first of them and prized it up. Then the next. He was red faced and soaked in sweat by the time the front path was only dark earth and the flagstones were stacked in a neat pile beside the gate. In spite of the rain, which was falling quite steadily now, he took off his jacket and placed it under the large bush. Then he picked up the spade and started to dig. The soil was heavy and wet and each spadeful came away with a loud sucking sound. He realized that his plan to dig this whole thing out in one afternoon was maybe a little ambitious, but he had no idea when he’d get any more free time while the missing child case was ongoing. He dug down six inches, then another six, and still hadn’t located any lines. At last he felt the chink of something solid as his spade cut through the earth and met resistance.
    “Finally,” he said, and dug more carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was damage either line. He bent to scrape away the earth from around what was probably the waterline. To his horror, what he took for the pipe moved and a piece of it came away in his hands. He found he was standing there, holding a long, thin bone.
    More careful scraping revealed more bones. It could be anything, he decided—a sheep that had died, even a former shepherd’s favorite sheepdog. Then he came upon the shoe.

Chapter 10
    “Where’s the fire then, Evan bach? ” Charlie Hopkins shouted as Evan came running down the track and almost passed him without a word.
    “Not a fire, Charlie,” Evan paused, gasping for breath. “I’ve just found a skeleton outside my cottage. I’ve called my inspector and he’s on his way, but he told me to tape off the area, just in case.”
    “A skeleton, outside Rhrodri’s old cottage, you say? A human skeleton, do you mean?”
    “That’s exactly what I mean, Charlie.”
    “ Escob annwyl! Now who could that be, I wonder?”
    “I’ve no idea. I didn’t like to unearth any more, once I saw what had to be a shoe.”
    “I don’t recall anybody dying and not getting a