Theft on Thursday [antikvár]

One"QHE DONE IM IN, THE OLD MAN SAID WITH RELISH.O"Poisoned 'im Then she opened 'im up with a bread knife and took his heart. Sewed 'im up agin. Very neat job, they said. Pickled it in incohol. Look, you can see the pair of 'em, there, look."Lois Meade leaned forward. "I can't see much, Cyril," she said. They were peering at a gravestone in Long Farnden churchyard. Most of it had sunk into the mossy grass, but on what remained above ground, Lois could just make out two figures, sitting either side of a shadowy table. The inscription was all but erased, but a rough outline of a heart between two names was just discernible."Is it a man and woman?" she asked."Yep," said the verger, "man and wife.""So are they both in the grave, then? Reunited in death?""Not Ukely! It's only 'im, Willy Mellish. They wouldn't've buried Sophia in a churchyard. She were a murderer, and got dragged on a pallet be'ind 'orses to Tresham. She were