Mary Smith-Hanged for Murder

Gemma arrived at work and joined the group of colleagues shivering outside the staff entrance on the cold November morning, just as their irate boss pulled up in his car.

"Where's that fucking boyfriend of yours," he demanded, "He was supposed to open up two hours ago. What did you do to him last night, Gemma."

"I didn't do anything to him, and he's not my boyfriend," Gemma strenuously denied, "but I know he had a problem with his car."

"Phone him," the boss ordered, "Tell him to get his lazy arse down here...or he'll be out of a job!"

Gemma reached into her handbag for her phone and pressed the keys that connected her to Andy's mobile.

"Is that your phone, Tom," asked one of the two grave diggers who were preparing a grave for the first internment of the day.

"No Mate," the other replied, "It's coming from over there."

The two men inquisitively made their way towards the source of the sound; a patch of low mist surrounding a grave in the older part of the cemetery. Stopping suddenly, they looked down in disbelief at what beheld them.

"It's a body!"

"Yes," the other man said, "But look Tom, look at his face."

Old Tom removed his spectacles and, squinting, looked intently at the lifeless face of Andy.

"Well I'll be buggered" Old Tom said, "He's smiling."

"Yes," agreed his younger friend, "Whoever the poor Sod was, it looks as though he died happy!"