Both men both slowed as they entered the old churchyard and Jeeves was able to catch up. Acting on instinct the Sergeant stayed hidden, dodging past gravestones and freshly turned earth as he crept closer.
Suddenly, the dynamics of the chase changed and the man ahead stopped and turned towards his pursuer. Both panted as they turned to face each other, their frantic shouts now silenced.
“Abraham,” the older man plead softly.
Jeeves spied a row of high sided tombs near the men which would provide him the perfect vantage point.
“Abraham, I’m sorry friend, but you were meant to do it quietly. People are suspicious enough without you turning up at Trolly Hall.” The older man sighed and wiped his brow. “I’ll have to go to Prebend now to cover, who knows who might have seen.”
Abraham took off his hat. “I’m so sorry, Mr Bruth – I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Alright, don’t worry. I’ll sort it out. Just keep your mouth shut and stay away from places you don’t belong.”
As Jeeves prepared to step out and confront his suspects, a sudden crack echoed through the night. The younger man took fright, darting off deep into the gloom. Bruth waited for a moment, calmly adjusting his hat before heading back towards the churchyard gates.
Jeeves briefly considered his options. Trolly Hall and the mysterious Anna would have to wait, that at least was obvious. And whilst there might have been some merit in questioning Abraham after a dark night of reflection in the cells, the older man was clearly made of sterner stuff. With an inward sigh, Jeeves slipped his handcuffs back into his pocket and silently followed Bruth out of the churchyard.