The following morning came, and Jack was ready. For the first time ever, he had managed to construct a decent plan. The vicar or undertakers would be coming to collect a dead person in a coffin. Luckily for Jack, this was a regular occurrence at Demontig’s house and so, presumably, it would be dealt with smoothly by those collecting the body. The only thing that was going to be tricky was the lack of Dr Demontig’s presence, and how Jack would talk it away. The vicar turned up in his own carriage with a hearse, drawn by two black horses, following behind. Two undertakers rode on the hearse, dressed in mourning suits. Jack stood and watched the party come up to the front of the house. He went out and greeted the vicar, shaking him firmly by the hand, and acting with as much confidence as possible.
“Good morning, Reverend. How are you?”
“Have we met?” said the vicar.
“No. I’m sorry. My name is John, and I am Dr Demontig’s new secretary.” He lied.
“Oh…..Where is the kindly doctor?”
“Well, that is something I need to discuss with you. Dr Demontig has sadly had to leave for Europe. His mother has been taken deathly ill and he must be by her side. We are all deeply concerned of course.”
“Oh, that is terrible,” said the vicar. “I didn’t know that he had a mother.”
“Well he does. For now.”
“Oh, dear Lord, watch over your good child, Dr Demontig.” The vicar crossed himself.
“He has left everything ready for you. The coffin is down in the basement, and I am under strict instructions to direct you to it. Dr Demontig has assured me that you know the routine and can handle the burial without him. Is that satisfactory with you?”
The vicar seemed a little flushed.
“Well, John…..sorry I didn’t catch your last name?”
“It is George, Sir. At your service.”
“George, eh? We have a family named George in the town. Any relation?”
“No, Sir. I am from America. What a coincidence though.”
“Yes it is. I don’t encourage you to meet them though. A rough bunch of scoundrels if you ask me. No, that would be fine. I would prefer Dr Demontig to have been here of course, but if he must go, then he must go. I have enough support to take it from here…..Will you be attending the funeral?”
“Why thank you, yes I will. I am sure, as the doctor’s secretary, I will be needed to deal with these sad occasions again in the future, and so I would like to see the process. I hear that he takes it upon himself to look after those that have fallen within the parish.”
“Yes, he is a good man Mr George. A very decent and charitable man!”
The coffin, with Demontig inside, was taken away and buried in the local graveyard. A double burial occurred that day and Jack watched both his coffin, and the other unknown deceased, lowered into their graves next to each other. He played his part convincingly and stayed to make sure the coffin was secure, six feet underground. When he was sure that his task had been completed, he walked away and made his way home. Before the day was out, he would be at sea on the Atlantic and Dr Demontig would wake up in a nightmare of his own devising. Trapped, and left to rot. Hopefully the irony would not be lost on him during his last moments alive.
As the night drew in and darkness fell on the two fresh graves, a couple of figures wandered through the thick fog. They entered the graveyard and studied the ground carefully.
“Over here,” whispered one of the men.
“What you got boy?” said the other.
“Look. Two new burials today. We’ll have them both”
“Listen to me boy. The body snatcher who gets greedy is usually the body snatcher who ends up with the longest neck. I’m not hanging around here all night to get caught.”
“So what do we do?”
“Pick one. Then dig it up!”
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