"Highly possible, I should say. Now then, Marielle-"
"But on the other hand," the stung Marielle interrupted, "with all due respect, it seems possible that you are mistaken as to the immediate need for a homicide investigation. Where is the evidence of a crime? Many people-villagers, campers, tourists-explore these caves. People have died in them before. They slip and fall, they are crushed by loosened rocks, they die of natural causes-"
Joly looked at him, only barely managing to keep from shaking his head at the man's never-ending obtuseness.
"And do they bury themselves as well?" he asked.
Chapter 3
"All right, then, how does this one sound?" Julie said, talking through a ballpoint pen clenched like a pirate's dagger between her teeth. "It's just a few miles from Piltdown." She smoothed the copy of "Holiday Rentals in Southeast England" that lay open on her lap, took the pen from her mouth, circled an entry, and read aloud.
"'Huffield Manor. Surrounded by flagstone terraces and overlooking its own six acres of wooded hillside near the handsome medieval village of Horsted Keynes, this beguiling eighteenth-century stone priory has been converted to a luxurious six-room manor house, completely renovated in 1997. Original beamed ceilings throughout. Large, marble-tiled entry hall with sweeping oak staircase and oak-balustraded minstrel gallery-'"
Gideon looked up from the fresh-from-the-printer sheets that were spread over his own lap. "Hey, hold it, I think you're getting confused. I get half-pay while I'm on sabbatical, not double-pay. What does this place rent for?"
"I haven't gotten to that yet. Ummm… yikes, scratch that!" She went back to turning pages while Gideon returned to his own reading. "Okay, here's one. 'Cozy stone cottage, a rustic, romantic little charmer…'"
"That sounds more like it," Gideon said.