MATRON SKULL (Backing away) That’s against Guild regulations!

MATRON SKULL Faster, you little grub. The Guild pays two shillings a pound for Grade-A Tibia. You’ve given me eleven ounces.

She touches its hand. The corpse sits up. Gasps.

PORRY Stand up now.

THE INSPECTOR You’ll end up as a garden paver outside Matron Skull’s summer home.

Matron Skull snatches the bone. Her face drains of color.