Epilogue II

Haven't Got A Clue, Doh!

It was even later that evening when I heard the rattle of hoofs and, looking up, saw a dog-cart coming at a gallop down the road. It pulled up at our door and the vicar, Mrs. Trerichards, sprang from it and rushed up our garden path yet again. Our visitor was so excited that she could hardly articulate but at last in gasps and bursts her tragic story came out of her.

"We are devil-ridden, Mr. Holmes! My poor parish is devil-ridden!" she cried. "Satan himself is loose in it! We are given over into his hands!" She danced about in her agitation and finally shot out her terrible news.

"Emmets!"

Holmes took one look at the incoming traffic on the A30 and shrieked, "Quick, Watson, the needle!"

Just then the St. Ives police burst through the door.

"We've cracked the case, Mr. Holmes," announced Constable Trevandervalk.

"Which case, " I blurted, fearing the worse.

My heart sank as I heard Constable Trecolumbo say, "The murder, sir. We know who did it."

"It was Cain!" Constable Trechan. "We have established that Abel has a cast-iron alibi as he was dead at the time. Our first case solved."

"As for the deaths at Chy An Indians, do you have any suspicions, Mr. Holmes?" Inspector Tregadget enquired hopefully.

"I suspect everybody and nobody," Holmes replied cryptically.

"What both of them?" groaned a dismayed Inspector Trehillstreetblues. "Constable  Trehaywain, who have we arrested so far?"

"Nobody, sir."

"Really?" exclaimed Inspector Tremarlowe, brightening visibly. "We've solved the mystery and caught the perpetrator already? That'll look good on our crime detection rates."

Saturnalian Salutations and Solstice Celebrations to the true believers from The Reporting Team

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