Nick looked up wearily as James came back to him.
"Now then," James said, "If I help you, do you think you can get down to my room and onto the bed there?"
"Yeah."
"All right, lets try it. Don't worry if you can't, I've got the cavalry en route." James supported Nick's weight as he got to his feet. As Nick half staggered down the passage James again wondered how the hell he had managed to get to the surgery from the churchyard at the opposite end of the village.
James helped Nick onto the examination table in his consulting room and got him to lie back. Nick groaned as James snapped on the light over the bed.
"Sorry Nick, I need to see what I'm doing. I'm going to get a dressing on that head wound first, see if we can mop up the gore a bit. Don't worry about it, heads always look dramatic!"
Skilfully James got a dressing on the gash over Nick's eye – they could worry about cleaning and stitching later. As he finished Nick said weakly, "Sorry James, I feel-"
Quickly James passed him a bowl and waited as Nick was very sick.
"Hell, sorry."
"Don't apologise!" James took away the bowl and rinsed it into the sluice and passed it back to Nick. "You might need this back though." He kept his voice cheerful but he was quietly worried.
"Now," he said, "can you slip off your greatcoat and jacket and then I can have a look at you properly."
Nick managed this with a bit of help and slipped off his tie. He lay back, eyes closed.
"How long were you out for?" James asked him.
"Honestly don't know. Not long I think." Nick opened his eyes. "Someone needs to get to the churchyard."
"Well as I said help is on the way so I'm sure that will be taken care of," James said gently shining a light into Nick's eyes. "All right. Lets check your heart rate and your blood pressure."
Nick watched him anxiously as he did this. James straightened up. "Okay, that's fine." He paused. "You need stitches, x-rays and observation."
"Hospital job?"
"I'm afraid so."
Nick groaned heavily. Then grabbed for the bowl again.
"All right, don't worry. You'll be fine," James said gently as he again rinsed out the bowl and gave it straight back to Nick.
"Kate, don't tell her.."
"If I don't tell her," James said, "it'll be me who'll need hospital treatment next. But look, lets worry about that later." He glanced up. "Sounds like the cavalry's here.
Blaketon and Phil clattered into the room. Blaketon looked shocked at Nick. "Bloody hell, lad," he said. He looked sharply at the doctor.
"Concussion without a doubt." James said softly. "Luckily I'd had a night call and decided to spend the night here rather than go back to Whitby. Nick saw me come in here earlier in the evening so when it happened he somehow made his way here for help. I've really no idea how he got from the churchyard to here in that state. He just said a grave had been disturbed – robbed, in fact – and he'd been hit over the head with the shovel they were using."
"Sarge," Nick said weakly and they moved over to him.
"Take it easy Nick," Phil said gently.
"Someone needs to get up there…grave's been opened.."
"Aye I know lad." Blaketon put a hand on his shoulder. "But you're our most important priority now so we'll get you off to that hospital and then we'll go and see what's what." He paused. "Did you see anyone or anything lad?"
"No, sorry Sarge, got me from behind.." Nick paused. "They hit me twice. First time, not too much damage, just knocked my helmet off and knocked me off my feet, then they hit me again." Blaketon winced at this. " Don't remember much after that."
"It doesn't matter lad at all." Blaketon spoke soothingly. "We'll get you looked after and then – well, someone's going to be sorry for this." He looked grimly at Phil who nodded in silent agreement.
The next morning Blaketon stood by the disturbed grave with the distressed vicar. The grave had been opened and unfortunately jewellery buried with the elderly gentleman only laid to rest the previous week had been taken.
"In all my years as a servant to the Lord," the vicar said somewhat piously, "It has never been my misfortune to encounter such - well, profanity Sergeant. I can't think what other word fits the crime."
"Aye." Blaketon shook his head. He looked around a moment then said, "Mr Frankland was buried last week I understand?"
"Yes, Sergeant."
"And were there any other funerals at all?"
The vicar looked a bit startled then said, "Oh, just poor old Mrs Grimshaw. She's over there, under the trees."
"Her grave hasn't been touched." Blaketon paused. "Though that means nowt. They might have been going on to hers next had they not been caught."
"I wouldn't think that she would have been buried with the crown jewels Sergeant," murmured the vicar. "There was hardly any money to give her a respectable send off I understand."
"Which undertakers conducted the funerals? Bernie Scripps?"
"He did for Mrs Grimshaw. But not for Mr Frankland. I understand the family used Armithwaites over in Ashfordly."
Blaketon nodded. They were quite a grand outfit and Frankland had been a well to do man. It made sense. But it also followed either the robbers had taken a very lucky guess about what Frankland had taken to the grave with him or they knew exactly what was there in the first place.
"Well, I'll go and speak to the family," he said now. "There's a daughter I understand?"
The vicar said, "Hmm, yes, and she's quite a formidable character. She's living in her father's house at the moment. But she had little to do with the funeral. She was estranged from her father and only came here to see him buried. The arrangements were primarily made by his sister, Agatha."
After the events in the churchyard the previous night, Bernie Scripps, washing down the garage forecourt, was not surprised to see Phil Bellamy arrive in the Police Panda car.
"All right Bernie?"
Bernie turned off the hosepipe. "Aye. I've been expecting you. After the goings on last night. How's young PC Rowan doing?"
"He's been hurt Bernie but he'll mend. He's going to be in the hospital a day or two though."
"Nasty business."
Phil nodded. "I understand that you didn't conduct the funeral for Mr Frankland?"
"No lad. I wouldn't have expected to. A grand affair like that."
"But you conducted Mrs Grimshaw's?"
Bernie looked shocked. "Have they broke into her grave an' all?"
"No Bernie. Hers and Frankland's were the only two funerals last week. We're trying to find out if they were targeting Frankland's because they knew what was there or whether they planned to target both."
"Well old Joan Grimshaw were buried wi' nowt," Bernie said frankly. "Poor as a church mouse, hardly left enough to cover the cost of her funeral. In fact it wouldn't have covered it except I went a bit easy on my charges, like. Had to see her off proper." He paused. "And it were no secret. Most round about knew Joan had nowt worth stealing when she were alive and certainly nowt worth stealing when she were dead. Old Frankland though, well, that's another matter."
James had gone into Ashfordly General to see Nick. He found him lying quietly in bed with his eyes shut but he opened them when James approached and sat down by his bed.
"Good morning," James said lightly running an eye over him. Nick looked better now the blood and gore had gone and the gash in his head neatly stitched but he looked white and tired.
"Thanks for coming in James," Nick said. "And thanks for last night as well."
"Not at all! I'll never know how you managed to get to the surgery in that state but thank heavens you did!" James gave him a smile. "Now I've spoken to Kate and although I did reassure her you will be perfectly fine she's heading home. She'll be here later today I think."
Nick sighed. "She had to fly down to London to look after Eileen and now she's had to do the same thing in reverse. I'm fine James, she doesn't need to rush back."
"She wants to. I don't think she'll believe you're all right until she's seen you for herself."
Nick nodded. "Have you heard any more about what happened last night?"
"Not really. I only know it was John Frankland's grave which was opened – he was buried last week – and that jewellery buried with him was stolen."
Nick flinched. "Who the hell would do that?"
"Someone pretty ruthless," James said soberly, "and heaven knows they need finding. The distress they've caused to Mr Frankland's family, not to mention the state you ended up in after getting in their way – well, the sooner they're taken out of commission the better I'd say!"
