'There had better not be,' Doyle commented, closing his notepad with a snap and sliding it back into his pocket. 'I would hate to have to report further infractions.' Then he strode to the door, forcing Kinney to follow him. This allowed the Doctor a few seconds to scan the other open accounting books before following them.

As they left the factory and headed for the town, Doyle grinned at the Doctor. 'I was starting to rather enjoy the part,' he confessed. 'How did I do?'

'Rather admirably,' the Doctor replied. 'You distracted the poor chap perfectly, allowing me to make my own determinations.' His eyes sparkled. 'I am more convinced than ever that our missing friend Breckinridge is involved in this little business. Let's head along to the Pig and Thistle and grab a little lunch and liquid sustenance, and I'll tell you what I discovered.'

When they were suitably ensconced with a pint and a slice of pie, the Doctor started in on the food and his explanations.

'Young Billy was quite correct in his suspicions. There are signs of a burdened cart having arrived and departed this morning. About a dozen drums were unloaded and taken into one of the storage sheds.'

'You could tell that from the marks in the dirt?' asked Doyle. 'I saw no such drums in any of the sheds we examined.'

'They've been moved again already,' the Doctor answered. 'But there was the unmistakable scent of formaldehyde in the second shed we were shown.'

'And what possible use could that have for manufacturing wire?'

'None,' the Doctor said, grinning. 'But it's marvellous at preserving tissues, isn't it? There is something going on at that factory all right. And the s.h.i.+pping logs I examined don't have any entries concerning chemical deliveries.'

'Not entered yet, perhaps,' Doyle suggested, playing devil's advocate.

'Not even a s.h.i.+pping bill,' the Doctor replied. 'That delivery this morning didn't officially happen, which I find rather significant.'

'Then whatever answer there is to this mystery is to be found on the third floor?' asked Doyle eagerly.

'No.' The Doctor finished his pie, then looked up thoughtfully. 'Sarah's been shown that floor, and she didn't see anything significant. I suspect that the secrets are hidden below ground rather than above.'

'Below?'

The Doctor nodded. 'I was quite intrigued by the chips and grooves cut into the stone floor beside one of the lathes that doesn't appear to have been operated recently.'

Doyle's eyes lit up. 'Ah! You suspect a secret entrance to a cellar area.'

'I do indeed.' The Doctor grinned. 'I think Mister Breckinridge has a little more invested in the future of this village than he's let on to anyone.' He glanced around the half-empty pub. 'You know, this is rather a nice tavern, isn't it? I wonder if they have any rooms to let?'

Doyle frowned. 'I imagine so. Whatever for?'

'I'd like to stay in town this evening,' the Doctor replied. 'It'll be easier to slip into the factory that way.'

Doyle laughed. 'I like your manner of thinking, Doctor. I'm your man.'

'I rather thought I could rely on you to help.' The Doctor was abruptly serious. 'We may well be walking into grave danger, you know. These people would appear to have already killed to cover up their secrets. Do you possess a revolver?

And would you be willing to use it if the need arises?'

'Yes and yes,' Doyle answered eagerly. 'I'm very keen to see this mystery through to the end.'

'Fine. Then you'd better settle matters with Captain Gray. I'll meet you back here at the stroke of midnight.' The Doctor stood up, and sang: 'Come, friends, who plough the sea/Truce to navigation/Take another station/Let's vary piracee/With a little burglaree!' With a grin, he added, 'Gilbert and Sullivan. Trust me, it'll be all the rage later this year.'

Doyle, puzzled, simply shook his head.

'I don't know how I let you talk me into doing this,' said Alice worriedly.

'Stop complaining,' Sarah answered as she saddled a horse. 'I thought you'd agreed that you had to know the truth about matters.'

'Yes,' agreed Alice, working on her own saddle. 'But going off alone like this it could be very dangerous, you know.'

'Look,' said Sarah with a sigh, 'you can't hide behind men all your life, you know. Sometimes you've got to step out and face life full in the face. Otherwise what are you? A slave, a dish-rag or a wimp.'

'The Doctor will be annoyed,' Alice said, tightening the clinches. 'My father will be furious.'

'Let them be,' Sarah dismissed the problem. 'Look, if I'm right, we've got a good chance of getting a real lead on whoever's behind this whole plot. According to the Doctor, old Ben Tolliver was buried yesterday. Constable Faversham guarded the cemetery last night, but he can't pull night duty twice in a row. He has to sleep sometime. And the villains that nabbed Missus Bellaver's body took it on the second night last time. I'll bet that they'll try again tonight. All we have to do is follow them, then send for the authorities, who'll catch the gang red-handed. That's why I need a bit of help. I can't watch the crooks and go for help at the same time.' Her steed was ready, so she swung up into the saddle.

'I don't know that I'm up to this,' Alice confessed. 'I'm frightened.'

'You'd be daft if you weren't a bit scared.' Sarah patted her hand encouragingly. 'Honest, it won't be as bad as you think. And you'll be surprised how fast you can get used to this sort of escapade.'

'I'm sure you do it all the time,' agreed Alice, clambering onto her mount slowly. 'You're awfully brave, and I'm not.'

'It's just a matter of getting used to it,' Sarah a.s.sured her. 'Anything a man can do, a woman can do better. Believe me.'

'I'm starting to regret that I ever listened to you,' Alice commented.

Sarah grinned. 'Yeah, I know. I often wish I didn't listen to me, either. Let's get with the "Hi-ho, Silver" routine, shall we?'

'I'm afraid I don't understand you.'

'Let's ride.'

Ross examined the factory through his eyegla.s.ses and then frowned down at Abercrombie. 'Eating again?' he chided. 'I'd ask where you got that sandwich, but I'm sure I probably don't want to hear the reply.'

'Likely not,' agreed his a.s.sistant, chomping down. 'It needs more bleeding chutney, mind you. Still, since I didn't pay for it, no sense in complaining.' He nodded his head toward the object of his boss's scrutiny. 'How's things?'

'Getting intriguing,' admitted Ross. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'The Doctor and his friends appear to have somehow survived their little expedition last night. He and that man Doyle have been in and out of the factory this morning.

And I very much doubt that this will be their last planned excursion of the day.'

'Me too,' agreed Abercrombie, licking his fingers of the last drips of chutney. 'I had a few words with a barmaid named Jen. She says that the Doctor rented a room at the Pig for tonight.'

'For once, you seem to have been doing your job,' Ross commented. 'So it looks as if the Doctor plans to make an unheralded visit to the factory this evening. I think we'd better be prepared to intercept him, don't you?'

Abercrombie groaned. 'Have a heart,' he complained. 'I needs me beauty sleep.'

'Far be it from me to argue with that a.s.sessment of your looks,' Ross answered with a hint of a smile. 'But you'll have to catch up on it later. Tonight there will be plenty of work for you to do.'

'Bleeding h.e.l.l,' muttered Abercrombie. 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, as me mum used to say.'

'Then it's a good thing your name isn't Jack,' the colonel said. 'It isn't, is it?'

'You know it ain't.'

'Then stop complaining. Get a little rest now, so you'll be fresher tonight.'

Abercrombie just scowled and tried to settle down. It was clear he wasn't at all keen on roughing it. But it was equally apparent that Ross didn't care.

It was starting to get dark when Sarah and Alice arrived on the outskirts of Bodham. For the last fifteen minutes of the ride, Alice had been absolutely silent. Sarah glanced at her companion, seeing that the girl's hands were absolutely white, and that her pretty face was pinched and drawn. She started to feel guilty about what she'd put the girl through. It was hard for her to remember sometimes that not everyone was born brave.

'Listen, Alice,' she said, reining in her mount. 'I think you'd better go back home.'

'No, Sarah,' the other girl answered. Her voice was strained, and she was trying to put a brave face on it. 'I promised to help you, and I will not back down now.'

Sarah nodded. 'I know, but I bullied you into it. Look, I think you've done more than I should have asked. It's much harder for you to go through this than it is for me. We've had very different upbringings.' An idea struck her. 'Look, ride back to the Hall and make sure your father stays up for a few hours. Then tell him where I am and what I'm doing. If I read Sir Edward right, he'll insist on coming to my help with a rescue party. That way, if I get into trouble, he can help bail me out of it, can't he?'

'You think that's a good idea?' asked Alice eagerly.

Sarah could see that she was looking for an honourable way out of her dilemma. She really was terrified of spending the night in a cemetery, but she didn't want to let Sarah down. 'I'm sure it is,' she said gently.

'But what if you need help?'

'I'll get in touch with Billy, that boy I told you about,' Sarah replied. 'I'm sure one of the kids will be more than willing to bear messages for me. Someone will help me, I guarantee it.'

Alice hesitated, not wanting to look too eager to desert her friend. Then she nodded. 'You can count on me,' she vowed.

'I'm sure I can.' Sarah waved as Alice rode off. Then she sighed. 'Someone will help me,' she muttered to herself.

'Great line.'

'Luckily for you,' said a familiar voice, 'someone is more than willing to help out a maiden in distress.'

'Lord,' asked Sarah, her face turned toward the heavens. 'What have I ever done to deserve this?' Then she glared down at Kipling, who had crept out of hiding behind a wall to grin lecherously up at her. 'What happened to the other two Stooges?'

'McBee and Duns?' Kipling laughed. 'They were caught smoking behind the groundsman's sheds. They're in detention, silly b.u.g.g.e.rs. But I'm here and eager to help.'

'Lucky me,' said Sarah with a sigh. Well, she supposed it was her own fault. She had wanted to meet Kipling in the first place, hadn't she? And she could use someone to keep her awake and alert and to run for help if need be. 'Okay, you can come along. But you'd better behave. That means no lewd comments, understand?'

'Absolutely,' a.s.sured Kipling. 'The soul of honour, that's me.'

'Why do I find that so hard to believe?' asked Sarah, rolling her eyes. 'Don't answer that. And follow me.' She rode over to the Pig and Thistle, where she stabled her borrowed horse. Darkness was closing in on them now. Sarah took the dark lantern from her saddlebags and slipped it into one pocket of the jacket she wore. Then she led the way to the small graveyard.

As she'd expected, there was no sign of the portly Faversham. The poor, overworked man was probably at home right now, snoring his head off. She could sympathize with him. He had to be utterly out of his depth with the strange occur-rences that were going on. On the other hand, she was right in her element here. In the failing light she examined the small burial ground. Tolliver had been buried near the entrance, in the poorer section of the cemetery. Several hundred yards further in, by one of the stone walls, there was a larger, more impressive monument. Some kind of a mausoleum, she a.s.sumed.

She could barely make out the signs of a step well.

'Over there,' she decided. 'We'll be under cover, and we'll have a good view across at Tolliver's grave.' She grinned at Kipling. 'Not nervous, are you?'

'Me?' Kipling laughed scornfully. 'Not likely. But if you need a little comfort . . .'

'I won't,' Sarah a.s.sured him. 'Trust me on that one.'

Alice was feeling terrible as she rode back from Bodham. Despite everything, she was certain that she'd let Sarah down.

This mission to get her father to help out was, she was certain, merely a sop to bolster her up. Sarah was doing all of the work and taking all of the risks, and she had done nothing but what was that strange word that Sarah employed? wimp wimp out. out.

But she couldn't help herself. She was not by nature a brave person. The thought of spending the night in a graveyard, even with Sarah for company, terrified her. It was bad enough just thinking about being surrounded by mouldering corpses, but Sarah seemed to think there was a real chance of there being living people turning up, people that were desperate and despicable enough to rob the graves. She shuddered in horror at the idea.

This was not what she was supposed to do with her life. Her father had never intended that she should be adventurous.

And she knew that Roger would have been appalled if he'd known what she had almost done. Roger loved her, of that she was certain, and he would always protect her. Even if he did seem to be a little odd when on the subject of that friend of his.

As if the thought of him had produced the reality, Edmund Ross stepped out suddenly into the road ahead of her, waving at her to stop. With a cry of shock, Alice reined in her steed. Ross marched over and grabbed the reins to prevent her from leaving.

'A little late to be out riding, isn't it?' he asked pleasantly.

'I'll do what I wish and when I wish it,' Alice replied, with as much courage and contempt in her voice as she could muster. 'I'll thank you to release those reins.'

Ross didn't remove his hands. 'Alice,' he said gently, 'there's no need to be so angry with me.'

'Is there not?' she asked him coldly. 'After what you did to me yesterday? Or is that of no consequence in your eyes?'

'You can hardly blame me for that,' Ross answered. 'You were trying to go through my luggage. The drug was merely a sleeping draught I use to protect my cases when I travel abroad. You'd be surprised how many foreigners have tried to rob me.'

'I find that a feeble excuse,' she snapped.

'Then I'll try and invent a better one,' Ross promised her. 'Please, Alice, don't be so harsh in judging me. I a.s.sure you that I bear neither you nor anyone dear to you any malice, nor intend to cause harm to them. But I have work to do, and that work must not suffer.'

'Work?' she asked, scornfully. 'Work that involves that thieving little friend of yours, no doubt.'

'Abercrombie, yes,' admitted Ross. 'I know he's not the most appealing person in the world, but he does have his good points.'

'Such as his skills at burglary?' suggested Alice, annoyed.

Ross didn't bother to deny her accusations. 'There are times when such skills do come in handy, yes.'

'At Fulbright Hall?'

Ross scowled. 'Alice, I resent the implication that I intend or intended to rob your family. Do you really think that little of me?'

'I don't know what to think of you!' she exclaimed, frustrated. 'You evade simple questions, you sneak about my home, and you ask me to trust you! How much of a fool do you think I am?'

'Obviously more of one than you may be,' he answered, equally annoyed. 'And not as great a fool as I am for thinking that you'd accept anything I had to say.'

She glared down at him. 'Then tell me what I want to know: what are you doing here, Edmund?'