Dorothy Sayers - The Nine Tailors

“Well, Harry, what’s the trouble?”

“Well, sir, it’s about this here grave. I thought I better come and see you, being as it’s a church matter, like. You see, when Dick and me come to open it up, we found a corpus a-laying inside of it, and Dick says to me—”

“A corpse? Well, of course there’s a corpse. Lady Thorpe is buried there. You buried her yourself.”

“Yes, sir, but this here corpus ain’t Lady Thorpe’s corpus. It’s a man’s corpus, that’s what it is, and it du seem as though it didn’t have no right to be there. So I says to Dick—”

“A man’s corpse! What do you mean? Is it in a coffin?”

“No, sir, no coffin. Just an ordinary suit o’ clothes, and he du look as though he’s a-been a-laying there a goodish while. So Dick says, ‘Dad,’ he says, ‘this looks like a police matter to me. Shall I send for Jack Priest?’ he says. And I says, ‘No,’ I says, ‘this here is church property, this is, and Rector did ought to be told about it. That’s only right and respectful,’ I says. ‘Throw a bit o’ summat over it,’ I says, ‘while I goes and fetches Rector, and don’t let any o they boys come into the churchyard.’ So I puts on my coat and comes over, because we don’t rightly know what to do about it.”

“But what an extraordinary thing, Harry!” exclaimed the Rector, helplessly. “I really — I never — who is this man? Do you know him?”

“It’s my belief, sir, his own mother wouldn’t know him. Perhaps you’d like to step across and take a look at him?”

“Why, yes, of course, I’d better do that. Dear me, dear me! how very perplexing. Emily! Emily! have you seen my hat anywhere? Ah, thank you. Now, Harry. Oh, Emily, please tell Mrs. Venables that I am unexpectedly detained, and not to wait tea for me. Yes, Harry, I’m quite ready now.”

Dick Gotobed had spread a tarpaulin over the half-open grave, but he lifted this as the Rector approached. The good gentleman gave one look and averted his eyes rather hastily. Dick replaced the tarpaulin.

“This is a very terrible thing,” said Mr. Venables. He had removed his clerical felt in reverence for the horrid thing under the tarpaulin, and stood bewildered, his thin grey hair ruffled by the wind. “We must certainly send for the constable — and — and”—here his face brightened a little—“and for Dr. Baines, of course. Yes, yes — Dr. Baines will be the man. And, Harry, I think I have read that it is better in these cases to disturb things as little as possible. Er — I wonder who this poor fellow can possibly be. It’s nobody belonging to the village, that’s certain, because if anybody was missing we should have heard about it. I cannot imagine how he can have come here.”

“No more can’t we, sir. Looks like he was a proper stranger. Excuse me, sir, but didn’t we ought to inform the coroner of this here?”

“The coroner? Oh, dear! yes, naturally; I suppose there will have to be an inquest. What a dreadful business this is! Why, we haven’t had an inquest in the village since Mrs. Venables and I came to the Rectory, and that’s close on twenty years. This will be a very shocking blow for Miss Thorpe, poor child. Her parents’ grave — such a fearful desecration. Still, it can’t be hushed up, of course. The inquest — well, well, we must try to keep our wits about us. I think, Dick, you had better run up to the post-office and get a call put through to Dr. Baines and ask him to come over at once and you had better ring through to St. Peter and get someone to send a message to Jack Priest. And you, Harry, had better stay here and keep an eye on — on the grave. And I will go up to the Red House myself and break the shocking news to Miss Thorpe, for fear she should hear it in an abrupt and painful way from somebody else. Yes, I think that is what I had better do. Or perhaps it would be more suitable if Mrs. Venables were to go round. I must consult her. Yes, yes, I must consult Mrs. Venables. Now, Dick, off you go, and be sure you don’t say a word about this to anybody till the constable comes.”

There is no doubt that Dick Gotobed did his best in the matter, but, since the post-office telephone lived in the post-mistress’s sitting-room, it was not altogether easy to keep any message confidential. At any rate, by the time that P.C. Priest arrived, rather blown, upon his push-cycle, a small knot of men and women had gathered in and about the churchyard, including Hezekiah Lavender, who had run as fast as his ancient legs could carry him from his cottage-garden, and was very indignant with Harry Gotobed for not letting him lift the tarpaulin.

“’Ere!” said the constable, running his machine adroitly into the midst of a bunch of children clustered round the lych-gate and tipping himself off bodily sideways. “’Ere! what’s all this? You run along home to yer mothers, see? And don’t let me catch you here again. ’Afternoon, Mr. Venables, sir. What’s the trouble here?”

There’s been a body found in the churchyard,” said Mr. Venables.

“Body, eh?” said the constable. “Well, it’s come to the right place, ain’t it? What have you done with it? Oh, you’ve left it where you found it. Quite right, sir. And where might that be? Oh, ’ere. I see. All right; let’s have a look at him. Oh! Ah! that’s it, is it? Why, Harry, whatever have you been a-doing of? Tryin’ to bury him?”

The Rector began to explain, but the constable stopped him with an upraised hand.

“One moment, sir. We’ll take this here matter in the proper and correct order. Just a moment while I gets out my notebook. Now, then. Date. Call received 5.15 pee hem. Proceeded to the churchyard, arriving 5.30 pee hem. Now, who found this here body?”

“Dick and me.”

“Name?” said the constable.

“Go on, Jack. You knows me well enough.”

“That don’t matter. I’ve got to do it in the proper way. Name?”

“Harry Gotobed.”

“Hoccupation?”

“Sexton. “

“Righto, Harry. Go ahead.”

“Well, Jack, we was a-openin’ this here grave, which is Lady Thorpe’s grave what died last New Year’s Day, for to be ready for her ’usband’s body, see, what’s to be buried to-morrow. We begins to shovel away the earth, one at each end, like, and we hadn’t got much more than a foot or so below ground level, as you might say, when Dick drives his spade down a good spit, and he says to me, ‘Dad,’ he says, ‘there’s something in here.’ And I says to him, ‘What’s that?’ I says, ‘what do you mean? Something in here?’ and then I strikes my spade hard down and I feels something sort of between hard and soft, like, and I says, ‘Dick,’ I says, ‘that’s a funny thing, there is something here.’ So I says, ‘Go careful, my boy,’ I says, ‘because it feels funnylike to me,’ I says. So we starts at one end and shovels away gentle, and arter a bit we sees something sticking up like it might be the toe of a boot. So I says, ‘Dick,’ I says, ‘that’s a boot, that is.’ And he says, ‘You’re right, Dad, so ’tis.’ So I says, ‘Looks to me like we begun at the wrong end of this here, so to say.’ So he says, ‘Well, Dad, now we’ve gone so far we may so well have a look at him.’ So we gets a-shovellin’ again, still going very careful, and arter a bit more we sees something lookin’ like ’air. So I says, ‘You put that there shovel away and use your ’ands, because we don’t want to spile it.’ And he says, ‘I don’t like.’ And I says, ‘Don’t you be a fool, my boy. You can wash your ’ands, can’t you, when you’ve done?’ So we clears away very careful, and at last we sees him plain. And I says, ‘Dick, I don’t know who he is nor yet how he got here, but he didn’t ought to be here.’ And Dick says, ‘Shall I go for Jack Priest?’ And I says, ‘No. ’Tis Church ground and we better tell Rector.’ So that’s what we done.”