Dr. James Radcliffe was bone shakingly tired. Kate Rowan was away for a few days having gone to London to visit her Aunt Eileen who had been quite poorly. That left him, even with a locum's help, with a pretty hefty workload. At about nine o'clock that Wednesday evening there had been a call to one of the hill farms near Aidensfield. Old Nellie Robinson had "passed on" - not unexpectedly as she had been ailing and bedridden for months. James was sorry it had happened whilst Kate was away as she had been caring for the old lady and had struck up a strong rapport with the family. She would be upset Nellie had died during her enforced absence.

He dealt with the paperwork and had a cup of tea with the family. It was nearly eleven-thirty when he left the farm and five to midnight when he got to Aidensfield. He could not face driving all the way back to Whitby. He decided he would go to the surgery in Aidensfield, phone his housekeeper and let her know he would be back for morning surgery, finish up the notes and then sleep in the small bedsit above the surgery.

He pulled the car up outside the surgery, got out, collected his bag and locked the car. He went to the surgery door and had just put the key in the lock when he heard someone behind him. He swung round and was dazzled by a torch in his face.

"Oh – sorry, James." Nick Rowan had been making a patrol of the village. He lowered the torch. "I saw someone outside the surgery but didn't realise it was you."

"Had a late call," James explained. "Nellie Robinson has died."

"Kate'll be sorry to hear that." Nick bit his lip. "I'll call up at the farm, in the morning, see the family."

"Yes I think they'd appreciate that. Will you tell Kate or –"

"I'm going to phone her in the morning, I'll let her know." Nick paused. "You staying here tonight?"

James nodded. "I think so. I'll drive back to Whitby tomorrow. Or rather," as the church clock struck midnight, "later today!"

"You can stay at the house James," Nick said, "you don't have to sleep here."

James hesitated, then said, "No, its fine. I'll be comfortable enough. Might have some breakfast though if its going?"

"You know you're welcome."

"How's Kate's Aunt Eileen doing?" James asked.

"She's getting much better, Kate said." Nick paused. "It was pneumonia and it was nasty but she seems more herself. In fact, Kate mentioned she may come home on Monday and then in a few weeks, Eileen is going to come and stay with us for awhile, help her get over it properly."

"Good." James smiled. "You know, Kate's only been gone a few days but I'll be glad when she's back. I've no idea how I ran my practice single handed for so long."

"She says much the same thing when you're away!" Nick replied. "Well, best get on. Don't forget to call in, in the morning."

"All right Nick. See you later."

Nick walked on, checking doors were locked, and that all was quiet in the village. James settled himself at his desk in the surgery, and made a quick call to his kindly housekeeper who was very used to middle of the night calls. She promised him she would look after his two daughters and offered to have breakfast ready for him when he got home. She was quite affronted when James explained he already had an offer elsewhere!

Nick's last circle around the village took him past the little churchyard. He did not plan to go in but as he was walking past he heard – something. He wasn't quite sure what but it merited closer inspection.

So he lifted the latch of the gate to the churchyard and walked up the gravelly path leading between the gravestones which wound up to the church. He didn't see anything as he shone his torch here and there but he was absolutely convinced he had heard something and wanted to make sure all was well.

And then he heard a noise, behind him this time, and as he half turned a shovel was brought neatly down across the side of his head. He went down hard, losing the protection of his police helmet, his torch dropping from his hand. And as he lay, dazed, the shovel was brought down again and after that, the world went black.

Unbeknownst to Nick who lay unconscious and unable to defend himself his assailant raised the shovel again. But their accomplice grabbed their arm snapping, "Are you mad? He's had enough! If you hit him again you'll probably kill him! Lets get out of here, we've done what we came for."

Nick's assailant hesitated but finally lowered the shovel which dropped to the floor with a clang. And without a backward glance or thought for their victim the pair fled over the wall at the other end of the churchyard

James sat back in his chair at the surgery. He looked at the clock. It was gone one o'clock in the morning! More than time for bed.

He turned off his desk lamp and went out into the passage, turning left to go up the stairs. Opposite his consulting room, was the waiting room and to the right was the locked front door. At the end of the passage past the stairs were two rooms which formed a small dispensary and store room. Upstairs was a small flat which he and Kate had discussed converting into further surgery accommodation but hadn't got around to. For now it was very useful in its current form with a comfortable bedroom and small kitchen.

But just as James put his foot on the bottom stair he heard a noise at the front door. It was like a scuffling noise. And as he hesitated there was a faint tap at the door.

"Hallo!" he put on the passage light. "Anyone there?"

There was no reply and he felt uneasy. He had heard something and he wasn't going to risk opening that door fully until he knew what was going on.

He kept the chain on and opened the door a fraction. There was no one there, he thought, then he looked down and – in the light from the passage, he saw Nick Rowan huddled on the step. Nick looked up at him and James gasped as he saw the blood on his face – copious amounts of it too.

"Nick!" James opened the door properly and knelt in front of him. "What in God's name has happened to you?"

"Hit over the head – shovel."

"You don't say," James said wryly. "Where?"

"Churchyard. Grave – think they were robbing a grave."

"What!" James was stunned. "But how in God's name have you got from the churchyard to here in this state?"

"Dunno. Slow, took ages. Kept stopping."

"I'm not surprised. All right, now listen. I'm just going to go and put the surgery lights back on and call the cavalry, then I'll come back here and help you down into my consulting room, all right?"

"Yeah. Not going anywhere."

"No, I don't think you are." James straightened up. "Two ticks."

He ran down the passage back to his room. He snapped on the lights and grabbed at one or two things he knew he would need. At the same time he pulled the phone on his desk to him and dialled over to Ashfordly Police Station.

Oscar Blaketon, working at his desk, clearing another pile of admin paperwork, looked up at the tentative knock on his door. It was young Phil Bellamy.

"Call from Dr Radcliffe at Aidensfield, Sarge." The lad looked tense, Oscar thought and he braced himself. "He's working late and Nick Rowan has landed on the surgery step – been clobbered good and hard in the churchyard. Disturbing someone robbing a grave apparently Sarge."

Blaketon took off his glasses.

"Then lets get over there lad. Now!"