Joyce drove into St Andrew's church parking area, braked and turned off the ignition. With Rupert by her side, they strolled through the lynch gate and towards the dark and gloomy house.

Joyce smiled and said, "So this is the church of the bonking vicar?"

"They were consenting relationships. Anyway, he's now married and, I presume, faithful to his wife."

"If you say so."

Rupert pressed the doorbell and stepped back.

The door opened. The vicar's trouble was visible on his face. "Unbelievable, and I only telephoned ten minutes ago."

Rupert stepped back. "Chief Inspector, This is one for you."

The vicar appeared confused. "You are here because of my call?"

Joyce produced her warrant card. "Reverend Spence, I know nothing about your call. We are here to discuss another matter. But I have a feeling your difficulty may be a police matter. Can we discuss the details inside?"

"Of course. Come in." Holding the door open, Ian pointed along the hall. "Is the kitchen suitable?"

Joyce nodded. "Can my husband use your telephone? He can tell them that I am dealing with your call."

"Of course."

"No problem, guv." Said Rupert with a grin on his face.

"Ian directed Joyce into the kitchen and pulled a chair from under the kitchen table. "Please. Tea or coffee?"

"Nothing, thank you." Joyce removed her notebook and pen from her coat. "Why did you contact the station?"

"My housekeeper is missing. When I arrived this morning, the doors were still locked and the house empty."

"Any notes or messages left for you?"

"No, and her bed has not been slept in."

"Does she stay out overnight often?"

"Never. She's not in the best of health."

"Did you have an argument?"

Joyce watched him. "No, we never argue. I allow her to do her job as she wishes. You can ask her.?"

"I would if she was here, but then she isn't. Do you have any idea when she left the house?"

"Sorry, no. I left early yesterday afternoon."

"Can you remember the time?"

"After lunch. Twoish."

"Can I take a look in her rooms?"

"Of course

Joyce turned in her seat before standing. She noticed Rupert leaning against the kitchen door frame, smiling. "A missing person. I never heard you return."

"You were in full flow. You wouldn't appreciate poking my nose in."

"You can have a look around with me."

"I promise not to touch anything."

Joyce smiled. "Please, if I miss something, tell me."

Rupert followed her and the vicar. "You won't."

"This is her private sitting room. I never enter this or her bedroom."

Rupert picked up the envelope containing the vicar's journals. Chief Inspector Constable Julie Oddman returned these documents late yesterday afternoon. She returned to the station at about four. I know the housekeeper, Mary Wilson, was on the premises when she left."

"Thanks, Rupert. This place is spotless and could do with a coat of paint, but everything is in its place. Bedroom next."

"Same as the sitting room and kitchen, no signs of anything amiss. Reverent Spence, I'll have the hospitals checked. Later, if we need to, I'll have a specialist search carried out. Leave it with us."

"To be fair, I wouldn't know where to start looking. She never leaves the church grounds these days. My wife does her shopping, and all her other needs are on hand. Out of interest, why did you call?"

"I wanted to ask your housekeeper where she purchased a necklace. Not important at the moment. With luck, we'll find her. If you do hear anything, please let the station know. Rupert, it's time we left.

Rupert gave a nod of his head, strolled towards the main door and waited.

Joyce joined him. "What do you make of her disappearance?"

"I don't believe in coincidence, but her disappearance is sudden. From my cursory look around, no one had been in the house until the vicar arrived. There are no buses in this area after six in the evening. Two things come to mind. After Julie mentioned the necklace, she may have thought we were on to her, but it is unlikely. She left the house to dump the pendant, but something happened. I could be talking through my backside. My guess is we'll know something today."

She stood by her car. "I dislike missing person investigations. They waste a lot of time, but I get the job as the ranking officer on the scene."

"Rupert opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. "It goes with the job."

"Joyce fastened her seatbelt and started the engine. "I need to find an inspector sooner rather than later."

"You could make Maggie an acting inspector."

"I could, but she wants approval from the promotion board. Not as a favour for my husband."

"As much as I understand, It's such a waste of talent."

Joyce guided her car through the traffic on the outskirts of the town. On stopping at a zebra crossing, the police radio blasted into life.

"Control to Chief Inspector Parsons."

Rupert lifted the microphone and pressed the button to speak. "Rupert Parsons. Detective Parsons is driving. Speak."

"Sergeant Davis. Return to St Andrews Church, guv. Someone walking their dog informed the vicar of a body in the river."

Rupert repeated the message. Joyce completed a rapid U-turn.

"Tell the sergeant I want six uniformed officers in a van and on their way like yesterday. If the message is correct, give SOCO the heads up."

"Message understood, guv."

"Do you want me to drop you off?"

"No thanks. I'm as interested as you are, but I'll stay out of the way."

"Another pair of eyes is always helpful. Get out of the way, idiot."

Rupert smiled as the speedometer crept higher. "Joyce, don't bust a gut. If it is a body, they're not going anywhere, and your team will be at least fifteen minutes behind you. I suggest we check it out when we arrive, and you decide on the next move."

Ian Spence, the vicar, wearing a black wool overcoat, stood waiting in the car park. Alongside him was a short, old woman with cropped grey hair. She wore a brown dog-tooth patterned tweed suit that had seen better days. Holding the lead to a scruffy-looking Yorkshire terrier.

Joyce parked. "I'll do the talking."

Rupert smiled. "You're the Chief Inspector. At the moment, there's not a soul around; the birds are singing, and we are going to check a possible corpse."

"She squeezed his right leg. "Come on."

While they strolled across the tarmac, Joyce removed her warrant card. "Morning again, vicar. I assume this person spotted what may be a body."

The woman took a moment to respond to Rupert. "I know a body when I see one."

"And you are," asked Joyce as she showed her warrant card.

"Georgia Dobson. I live in the village."

Will you direct me to where you saw this body?"

"I'll take you," said Ian. "Mrs Dobson has had a harrowing experience."

"Not a problem, vicar. You lead, and I'll keep you company. I have dealt with human remains before."

Joyce took a deep breath. "We're wasting time. Please show me this swimming pool. The name intrigues me."

With Mrs Dobson at his side, Ian crossed the road and descended a sloping field where a herd of cows grazed in a corner.

Rupert nodded to Joyce. "I suppose we had better follow. Watch out for cow crap. It's not good for shoes and smells horrible."

"She made no comment but watched where she placed her feet."

At the far side of the field, Ian waited. There's no gate; you'll need to slip between the wires. I'll lift the top one."

Ian assisted Georgia, clambered through and pointed. "Another hundred yards or so, and you should see the body. Be careful. The path is a tad slippery. It's a drop of about fifteen yards from the top to the water. In the first summer of the war, the farmer dug the pool out of the stream so his land girls could enjoy a swim. The local children played her also. Today, the fun killers would say it's dangerous."

It took Rupert a moment to take in the scene. "I bet the kids loved it."

Georgia pointed. "There it is."

Rupert and Joyce gazed at a black mass on the water's edge.

"How can we check it out," asked Joyce.

There's a footpath over there," said Mrs Dobson. "It winds its way to the base of the bottom. There were steps, but I haven't used them since I was a girl."

Rupert, grinning, turned to face Joyce. There's only one way to find out, and I would not recommend trying with your shoes."

Joyce peaked over the edge of the slope. "Vicar, is there any way we can approach from the other side?"

"There is, but walking around will take you an hour. If I contact the farmer, he has an all-terrain buggy thing."

Rupert strode towards where the overgrown path started. "Joyce, I'll take a gander at this track."

"I'd rather you didn't., but I can see a determination in your eyes. Be careful. You don't bounce as well as you used to."

He laughed as she glared at him, her face full of spirit. "Either I try, or we wait until farmer Giles arrives, and he doesn't even know we are here. If I slip, there's plenty to grab onto." Rupert looked around before his left hand held a silver birch sapling and began his descent. He progressed along the winding path, holding branches. Before each step, he checked the ground. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Focussed on the next tree to grab, his left foot dropped into a grass-covered hole. His grip tightened on the thin trunk, reassuring as he freed his foot. A sudden lurch to the right told him the sapling's roots had broken free from the soil.

His arms flayed the air, searching for anything to hold onto. Other trees held firm for a few seconds as he slid, rolled and dropped towards the water. "Shit," he screamed as he hit the deep pool and vanished beneath the surface. The sunlight dimmed as he descended. The shock of the water made him exhale. His survival instinct reacted as he asked his body to force him to the light. Surfacing, he found it hard to breathe. The temperature of the water cramped his muscles. He rolled onto his back and unhurriedly kicked his legs. Relief filled his mind when his feet touched the bottom.

He heard Joyce screaming his name.

"I'm fine. I fancied an open-water swim. I can tell you, it wakes you up." His eyes fixed on the body floating next to him. With care, he rolled it over and immediately recognised her.

Rupert glanced towards where Joyce stood. "Tell the vicar it's Mary Wilson.

"Are you alright," she asked.

He shrugged. "Cold and wet."