Dying Fall, A (20 page)

‘So Constable,’ says Sandy, ‘who assigned you to this case?’

‘Mr Greengrass,’ says Terry.

‘Pete eh,’ says Sandy grimly. ‘How’s old Grassy Arse these days?’

‘He’s very well,’ says Terry. ‘He’s just received the Queen’s Commendation for his forensic work.’

‘Did he?’ says Sandy, who feels his own OBE is distinctly overdue. ‘Nice work if you can get it. So you were asked to look after these bones. Did you log them in?’

‘Yes,’ says Terry, handing over a plastic wallet. ‘The paperwork’s all here.’

Sandy doesn’t even glance down but Tim takes the wallet and looks through the papers inside. Everything seems correct. The bones were logged in by one Guy Delaware of Pendle University.

‘Who has visited the bones since they’ve been here?’ asks Sandy.

‘I don’t know,’ says Terry. ‘I’d have to check. A few people from the university have been. And Doctor Galloway the other day.’

Tim reads out from one of the photocopied sheets: ‘Bones were logged in on May 10th. Dan Golding visited several times. Guy Delaware visited on May 11th, Elaine Morgan on May 13th, Clayton Henry on May 16th.’

‘Guy Delaware,’ says Sandy. ‘He was the next-door neighbour, right? The one who called the fire brigade.’

Not for the first time, Tim makes a mental note not to underestimate his boss. Sandy has almost certainly lost the record of the 999 call but there’s nothing wrong with his memory. Guy Delaware had indeed made that call.

‘Yes,’ says Tim. ‘Elaine Morgan lived next door as well.’

‘All very cosy,’ says Sandy. He turns to Terry. ‘Why would these characters be dropping in? What were they doing?’ Terry shrugs. ‘Doing tests, taking samples for analysis, just looking. I don’t know. These bones were long dead. It’s not as if there was a police investigation.’ He looks meaningfully at Sandy.

‘Were any of these people alone with the bones?’ asks Tim.

‘Yes,’ says Terry, sounding defensive now. ‘I left them to it. Like I say, the site wasn’t sealed.’

Sandy, who has had his own experiences with sealed sites, says, ‘Could any of these people have taken some of the bones away and substituted others?’

Terry looks amazed, his sandy eyebrows disappearing into his hair. ‘Why would anyone want to do that?’

‘Just answer the question, Constable.’

Terry looks about to object, but after a martyred glance at Tim, says, ‘It’s not possible. Bags are checked on entry and departure.’

‘Who checks them?’

‘The officer on the door. Or me, if no-one else is available.’

‘So they couldn’t have switched the bones brought in on 10th May and replaced them with the bones of some other poor sod?’

‘Is that what you think happened?’

‘I’m not at liberty to say,’ says Sandy, getting up. ‘This is a police matter now.’

The dream-catchers go into a frenzy as Nelson and Cathbad rampage around the house looking for Pendragon. His bed upstairs is neatly made, the ubiquitous collection of shells and feathers hanging overhead as well as (more surprisingly) a large crucifix. The other rooms upstairs seem to be full of junk. Downstairs there’s a bathroom and a kitchen, both high on period charm and low on appliances. There is food for Thing in the kitchen as well as a covered saucepan containing what look like herbs in water.

‘Funny sort of stew,’ says Nelson.

‘It’s an infusion,’ says Cathbad. ‘I don’t know what for.’ They go outside into the walled garden. Nelson is about to trample over Dame Alice’s herbs when Cathbad calls him back. Besides, there’s no need to search, they can see the whole garden from the back step. It’s a tangle of long grass and cow parsley. The only plants that Pendragon has cultivated are the herbs. Lemon-balm and rosemary stand in neatly turned earth and there is an old beer barrel full of mint. Otherwise the weeds and the brambles run unchecked. At the back of the garden there are apple trees, already heavy with fruit, and in the centre there’s a sundial. Beyond the wall, the hill climbs steeply up to the sky, dark purple with gorse. From one of the trees, a blackbird watches them.

Nelson turns to go back into the house and almost falls over a bowl of cherries on the step.

‘What the hell’s that doing there?’

‘I think it’s an offering,’ says Cathbad. ‘The house used to be owned by Dame Alice Barley, one of the Pendle Witches, and Pendragon told me that he leaves gifts for her.’

Nelson stares at him. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes. Pendragon says that the libations have always vanished by morning.’

Nelson picks up the bowl. The fruit looks sticky and rotten; a worm is poking out of one of the cherries. ‘Well, Dame Alice isn’t playing today.’

They go back into the house, which seems darker and more oppressive than ever. Thing drinks noisily out of a bowl in the kitchen.

‘Pendragon’s not here,’ says Nelson. ‘We’d better go back.’

‘I’d like to stay for a bit,’ says Cathbad.

Nelson turns to stare at him. ‘Why?’

‘Well, someone’s got to look after Thing.’

‘Thing?’

‘The dog.’

‘He’ll be fine. He’s got enough food for a week.’

‘All the same,’ says Cathbad. ‘I want to stay. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.’

Nelson is about to tell him not to talk rubbish but even he feels something odd about the little house. So odd, in fact, that Nelson suddenly feels desperate to get back to Blackpool, the Golden Mile, traffic, Michelle.

‘I can’t leave you here with no car.’

‘I’ll be fine. It’s only a few miles to Fence. And I’ve got a phone.’ He brandishes an ancient-looking mobile.

‘Well, ring if you’re in any trouble. I’d better get back to the family.’

When he’s back in the car he thinks that there must be something very sinister indeed about Dame Alice’s cottage. He’s even looking forward to seeing Maureen.

Ruth is bumping the pushchair down the staircase. Kate is still complaining loudly, pushing against the straps and yelling ‘Out, out, out’ like some miniature activist. Susan Chow had offered to help with the stairs but Ruth just wanted to get away as quickly as possible. Besides it’d take Susan a while to get her room back in order. So Ruth ignores Kate’s shouts and heads for the front door of the library. In a few minutes, she’ll be out in the open air and maybe they can go to a park or something.

‘Can I help you?’

A man appears at the foot of the stairs. Ruth says no thank you, she’s fine and is about to hurry past when the man says, ‘It’s Ruth, isn’t it?’

Ruth looks round in surprise. She doesn’t expect to know anyone in Blackpool (apart from Maureen, that is, and she wouldn’t put it past her to have mastered the art of shape-changing).

‘It’s Sam,’ says the man. ‘Sam Elliot. We met at Clayton’s party.’

Oh yes. Sam, Dan’s friend. He seems friendly enough but Kate is still yelling and Ruth is terrified that the people in the library will hear her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I’ve got to go. We’ll get chucked out in a minute.’

‘I’ll help you,’ says Sam, opening the main doors. Outside they are on a busy Blackpool street and Kate is quiet immediately. ‘Sun,’ she says, ‘Moon, stars.’ None of these things are visible at the moment—it’s eleven-thirty on a grey August morning—but Ruth is just relieved that she has stopped shouting.

‘Thanks,’ she says to Sam. ‘I don’t think Kate’s a big fan of quiet libraries.’

‘Libraries aren’t quiet these days,’ says Sam. ‘It’s all multimedia and outreach and gift shops.’

Blackpool Central Library is a grand old Victorian building, but inside it is indeed a brave new world of plate glass and electronic displays. Ruth rather misses the dusty bookshelves of her student days.

Sam says, ‘I shouldn’t complain about outreach. I’m here to give a talk on Blackpool in the war. The library is really hot on local history.’

‘Sounds interesting,’ says Ruth. ‘I was visiting the county archaeologist.’

‘Susan Chow?’ says Sam. ‘Is this about Dan’s discovery?’

‘Yes,’ says Ruth, not sure how much she should tell him. Sam says he was Dan’s friend but how can she be sure? And, as Susan said, news travels fast amongst academics.

‘Look,’ says Sam. ‘I’ve got half an hour before my lecture. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?’

Kate is silent, watching the buses go past, so Ruth says yes.

After a while, Cathbad decides that he’d better tackle Dame Alice head on. It’s no good hiding from the fact—Pendragon has disappeared and Dame Alice must know where he is. She didn’t seem to like the cherries much so Cathbad searches for something better. In the fridge he finds four cans of beer, and in the larder some rather crumbly oatcakes. No wine, unfortunately, but Dame Alice was probably a tough countrywoman who liked a good pint of stout. This is Guinness, which, Cathbad reckons, should be good enough for anyone. Pen must have got the taste for it when he lived in Ireland. Cathbad fills a glass with the beautiful black liquid and finishes the can himself. He has a feeling that he might need it before the day is over.

He goes outside into the garden because that’s where he felt her presence the strongest. The clouds are still dark overhead and the bird still watches from the tree. Even when Thing runs out of the house, barking wildly, the bird does not fly away.

Cathbad places the Guinness and the oatcake on the sundial. He raises his hands to the sky: ‘Dame Alice, accept my offering and help me find my friend.’

Thing stops his mad circling and comes to sit at Cathbad’s feet. For a few moments everything is completely still and then, from the apple tree, the bird caws once.

Cathbad reckons that’s all the answer he’s going to get.

They go to an Italian cafe where Kate is treated like a queen. She gets a special chair, a frothy milk drink and a selection of tiny cakes glistening with glazed fruit. Sam and Ruth get more prosaic cappuccinos, though these too are excellent. The proprietor obviously thinks Kate is their (joint) child and is fulsome with compliments. Ruth is getting used to people making assumptions about Kate’s parentage but Sam is obviously uncomfortable.

‘She’s not . . .’ he says when Signor Tino tells him to savour each fleeting moment of Kate’s babyhood. ‘Oh, never mind.’

‘Do you have children?’ asks Ruth.

‘No,’ says Sam. ‘Too late now, I suppose.’ His voice is cheerful but his eyes look rather sad. He has a weatherbeaten face with light blue eyes that look very directly at you. He has a boyish outdoorsy look, like a grown-up scout, though his hair is starting to recede.

‘You’ve got plenty of time,’ says Ruth. ‘How old are you?’

‘Forty-two.’

‘Same as me.’ Same as Dan, she thinks.

‘Anyway,’ she says. ‘There’s no rush for a man. No biological clock, I mean.’

‘No,’ says Sam, putting sugar in his coffee. ‘But I had kind of expected to be married with kids by now.’

He looks like a dad, thinks Ruth. The sort of father who would take his children swimming and cycling. Camping in summer with a small excitable dog in the back of the Volvo. It turns out that she was right about the dog. Sam tells her that he has a Jack Russell called Griffin. Ruth volunteers that she has a cat.

‘I always thought I’d end up a single woman alone with her cat,’ she says. ‘I never expected to be married or have children. Well, I’m not married but I do have Kate.’

‘Cake,’ says Kate loudly. Signor Tino is instantly at her side with new supplies.

‘You’re lucky.’

‘I know.’

There is a short silence and then Sam says, ‘So why were you seeing Susan?’

Ruth is expecting this question but is still not sure how to answer it. She doesn’t want to tell Sam about the switched bones but, on the other hand, he might be able to give her some useful information.

‘I was asking about the excavation,’ she says. ‘Were you there?’

‘I was at the early digs,’ he says. ‘But I’m a modern historian, not an archaeologist. Guy’s the man you should ask.’

‘Was Guy a friend of Dan’s?’

‘Yes,’ says Sam, wincing slightly as Kate drops a cream cake on the floor. ‘They were good friends even after . . .’

Ruth picks up the cake. She has to resist a temptation to eat it. ‘Even after what?’

‘Well, Elaine is Guy’s best friend. I don’t think there’s anything sexual there. They’re more like brother and sister. So when Elaine started seeing Dan . . .’

‘Elaine went out with Dan?’ This would tie in with Elaine’s appearance at Dan’s funeral (in Sam’s company) but Ruth still can’t quite see the two together.

‘Yes. They had quite a romance. It was all very intense. But then they broke up and Elaine went back to living with Guy. But, all the time, Dan and Guy—and Elaine too—were working on the dig together. It must have been very difficult sometimes.’

‘Why did they break up?’

‘I don’t know. I think, from something Dan said that he just didn’t want to get involved in a serious relationship. After all, he hadn’t been divorced long.’

‘So Dan was the one who finished it?’

‘I think so. Yes.’

Then Elaine moved back next door. It sounded like some French farce with the same people going in and out of the same doors, but Ruth is sure that it didn’t seem funny at the time. Suddenly, as clear as day, she remembers the 68 bus and Dan’s lips pressed to hers. She wonders whether Elaine was in love with him.

‘Did Dan tell you much about the dig?’ she asks.

‘At the beginning. He told me about the Raven God and all that. It was exciting because Britain was meant to be Christian at the time, but here was this pagan temple. But the bones . . . no. He didn’t tell me about them.’

I wonder why not, thinks Ruth. ‘Have you ever heard anything about any Neo-Nazi groups on campus?’ she asks. ‘Anyone who might have had an interest in the dig?’

Sam, like Clayton before him, looks uncomfortable. ‘We all know about the far right, but they’re a load of nutters. No one takes them seriously.’

‘Have you heard of a group called the White Hand? A sort of splinter group.’

Sam shakes his head. ‘The White Hand? No, I don’t think so.’

But Dan was afraid of something, thinks Ruth. And so, apparently, was Guy. After all, he was the one who insisted on taking the bones to the police lab.