The Secret of the Dead
David Stuart Davies
It was Reuben Flowers, landlord of the Shoulder of Mutton, who found Annie Lincoln. She was floating in the village pond. Flowers had been taking his retriever for its early morning constitutional when he spotted a body lying face downwards. He recognised the old woman’s plaid shawl, which was spread out on the still water like bat’s wings. Stepping into the pond he grabbed Annie’s ankles and heaved her body onto the grass bank.
‘She’s a dead ‘un, all right,’ he said, turning the body over and gazing down at the pale lifeless face. ‘Silly old girl. She must have missed her footing and gone in head first,’ he murmured, addressing the dog. The hound stared back inscrutably.
*
‘Hello, I’m Sherlock Holmes.’
Richard Cuff stared at the tall thin y
