The Calling of the Grave Read Free Page B

from amateurs,' Wainwright intoned. It might have been coincidence
that he was looking at me.
        I
knelt down on one of the metal stepping plates to examine the hand. It was exposed
from the carpal bones of the wrist. Most of the soft tissue had been gnawed
away, and the first two fingers, which would have been uppermost, were
completely missing. That much was only to be expected - larger scavengers like
foxes, and even bigger birds like crows or gulls, would have been more than
capable of detaching them.
        But
what interested me was that, beneath the teeth marks left in the bone, the
broken surfaces of the phalanges looked smooth.
        'Did
any of the walkers tread on the hand, or damage it while they were digging?' I
asked.
        'They
claim not.' Simms' face was expressionless as he looked at me. 'Why?'
        'Probably
nothing. Just that the fingers are broken. Snapped cleanly by the look of
things, so it wasn't done by an animal.'
        'Yes,
I had noticed,' Wainwright drawled.
        'You
think that's significant?' Simms asked.
        Wainwright
didn't give me a chance to answer. 'Too soon to say. Unless Dr Hunter has any
theories. . . ?'
        I
wasn't about to be drawn. 'Not yet. Have you found anything else?' The area
inside the tent would have already been picked clean for evidence by SOCOs.
        'Only
two small bones on the surface that we think are a rabbit's. Certainly not human,
but you're welcome to take a look.' Simms was looking at his watch. 'Now, if
there's nothing else, I have a press conference. Professor Wainwright will
brief you on anything you need to know. You'll be working under his direct
supervision.'
        Wainwright
was watching me with an expression of mild interest. While the pathologist
would have final say over the remains, as a forensic archaeologist
responsibility for the excavation would naturally fall to him. I didn't have a
problem with that, at least in theory. But I knew of cases where interred
bodies had been damaged by inept or over-enthusiastic excavations, and my job
wasn't made any easier when a skull had been shattered by a pickaxe or a spade.
        And
I'd no intention of being treated like Wainwright's assistant.
        'That's
fine, as far as the excavation goes,' I said. 'Obviously, I'd expect to be
consulted on anything that might affect the remains themselves.'
        There
was a silence inside the tent. Simms studied me coldly. 'Leonard and I have
known each other for a long time, Dr Hunter. We've worked on numerous inquiries
together in the past. Very successfully, I might add.'
        I
wasn’t—
        'You
came highly recommended, but I want team players. I have a very personal stake
in this investigation, and I won't tolerate any disruptions. From anyone. Do I
make myself clear?'
        I was
aware of Wainwright watching, and felt sure that Simms had been primed by the
archaeologist. I felt myself bristle at his attitude, hut I'd worked with
enough difficult SIOs to know better than to argue. I kept my own face as
studiedly neutral as his.
        'Of
course.'
        'Good.
Because I'm sure I needn't tell you how important this is. Jerome Monk may be
behind bars, but as far as I'm concerned my job isn't finished until his
victims have been found and returned to their families. If — if— this is
one of them, then I need to know it.' Simms stared at me for a moment longer
until he was satisfied he'd made his point. 'Now, if we're done I'll leave you
gentlemen to your work.', He brushed out through the tent flaps. Neither
Wainwright nor I spoke for a moment. The archaeologist cleared his throat
theatrically.
        'Well,
Dr Hunter, shall we make a start?'
        
        
        Time
seemed suspended under the glare of the floodlights. The dark peat was
reluctant to relinquish its hold on the body, clinging wetly to the flesh that
gradually emerged from below the surface. Progress was slow. With graves