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evening.’
    Emily Spraggs was tearful when she opened the door. It was a relief to be able to offer her reassurance, though by the time Deepbriar left a few minutes later she was looking baffled. That made two of them, the constable reflected, for he too was mystified.
    ‘Mary?’ Deepbriar called tentatively as he let himself in at the back door of the police house. The silence told him the worst; nobody was home. On the cold cooker stood a plate, covered with a saucepan lid. He lifted the lid and looked sadly at the congealing gravy that failed to disguise the overcooked state of the meat. The shrivelled potatoes and limp Yorkshire pudding didn’t look very appetising either.
    He found the note on the hall table, brief and to the point, with no affectionate greeting or signature; Mary had gone to visit her sister at the other end of the village.
     
    Having eaten his meal, Deepbriar returned to the doctor’s house as agreed. Joe Spraggs’s face was no longer so pale; he looked now as if he was merely asleep.
    ‘His eyes are moving more,’ Dr Smythe commented. ‘He’ll be with us shortly.’
    Sure enough, a few minutes later, Joe stirred, half turning over.
    ‘Back in the land of the living then?’ Deepbriar quipped. At his words the young man came abruptly bolt upright, his eyes wide with terror.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Spraggs demanded wildly. For a long moment he stared at Deepbriar then at the doctor with an expression of horror on his face, showing no sign of recognition. Slowly the glazed look left him. He gulped convulsively.
    ‘I thought …’ he began, then broke off, looking round the room before bringing his gaze back to the constable. ‘Mr Deepbriar?’ he said uncertainly. ‘What happened?’
    ‘We were hoping you might be able to tell us that,’ Deepbriar replied, taking out his notebook. ‘You were saying you thought …’
    Spraggs swallowed again. ‘Sounds daft,’ the young man said hoarsely. ‘I thought I was dead. Until the man came back.’
    ‘Drink this,’ the doctor urged, holding out a glass. ‘It’s only water,’ he added as his patient hesitated.
    Spraggs drank thirstily, draining the glass. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know I was so dry. How did I get here?’
    ‘The constable found you, in your lorry I gather,’ the doctor said, taking the young man’s wrist to check his pulse. ‘How are you feeling now? No pain? How about your head?’
    ‘A bit muzzy, that’s all.’ He looked from one man to the other. ‘I haven’t smashed up the lorry, have I?’
    ‘No, no.’ The doctor raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s with us, I think. You can go ahead and ask your questions, constable.’
    Deepbriar nodded. ‘Let’s begin at the beginning, Joe. Saturday afternoon. You were working late, is that right?’
    ‘Yes, I normally finish about four on a Saturday. I’d already done one delivery to Falbrough, then there was a rush job, taking a load of timber to Gristlethorpe. I’d told Emily I’d be late, and I was going to meet her at the village hall. She wasn’t too happy, what with this weekend being sort of a honeymoon.’ His brow furrowed as he tried to work things out. ‘I’ve missed it, haven’t I? Madame Butterfly ? Emily’ll be upset. She was keen, because her auntie was in it.’
    ‘Yes, I’m afraid you have missed it.’ He refrained from further comment, keeping to the business in hand. ‘What time did you get back to the yard?’
    ‘Must have been about a quarter to seven. Emily had given me something for my supper, a nice bit of meat pie. I was going to sit in the cab and eat it. I went to fetch my coat first though, from the office. And that’s when I saw it.’
    ‘Saw what?’
    ‘Tea. Already made. A whole pot of it, steaming hot. I thought Mr Wriggle must have just left. I poured a cup and took it back to the lorry, because I was checking the plugs. I remember I drank it after I’d eaten the pie …’ a puzzled expression drifted