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‘Where the bodies are buried?’
‘I mean, it’s just a turn of phrase, but thinking about what you said about Leo. . . and now Cathbad going missing. . . I thought I ought to tell you.’
‘Thank you,’ says Ruth. ‘I’ll tell DCI Nelson. He’s the detective in charge of the case.’
‘David said that you’re involved with the local police.’
‘Not really.’ Ruth can just imagine the tone in which David said this. ‘I’ve advised them on a few cases, that’s all. Buried bones. That sort of thing.’
‘I envy you forensic people,’ says Jeanne. ‘No one ever asks me about ancient manuscripts.’
But manuscripts are probably considerably safer, thinks Ruth.
‘I wrote to your chancellor protesting about the closure of your department,’ says Jeanne. ‘Any news on that?’
‘Not really. The emergency meeting was well attended and David’s planning a rally next week. I can’t help thinking that the board have already made their minds up. But thank you for writing. That’s really good of you.’
‘No problem,’ says Jeanne. ‘We archaeologists must stick together.’
After Ruth has said goodbye to Jeanne, she rings Nelson. He answers immediately.
‘Ruth? What is it?’
This time Ruth doesn’t bother with any niceties. She passes on the news given to her by Jeanne.
‘Where the bodies are buried? What the hell does that mean?’
‘Well, as Jeanne said, it could just be a turn of phrase.’ Ruth thinks of Zoe talking about skeletons in closets. These clichés are starting to take on a sinister meaning.
‘Or it could mean that Cathbad knew where Emily was buried,’ says Nelson.
‘I can’t believe that. If Cathbad knew, he would have told someone. He wouldn’t have left her family to suffer like that.’
‘He fainted dead away when I first mentioned the café.’
‘Cathbad’s not well. Surely, that’s what’s happened now. He’s wandered off and lost his memory or something.’
‘I wish to hell I knew what was happening. You’re visiting churches, Judy’s gone to Walsingham, I’ve sent young Bradley to look at a disembodied hand. And we’re no nearer to finding bloody Cathbad.’
‘I know,’ says Ruth. ‘I just keep hoping I’ll get a call from Judy saying he’s turned up.’
‘Me too,’ says Nelson. Ruth hears his voice changing gears. ‘Shall I come over? I’m going mad here, just turning things over in my mind.’
Ruth looks out of the window as if she can see Nelson’s car drawing up outside. She imagines them talking, drinking wine, climbing the uneven stairs to her bedroom. And then what?
‘Better not,’ she says. ‘I’ve got an early start in the morning.’
Chapter 24
Sunday 20 June
It seems that half the world is driving to see their parents on Father’s Day. Ruth finds herself in two traffic jams before she has even left Norfolk. There are more hold-ups on the A10 and M11. Ruth’s iPhone keeps gloomily readjusting their ETA and it’s nearly one o’clock by the time they park in front of the terraced house in Eltham.
Ruth had been hoping for some time alone with her father to bring up the subject of Zoe. Arthur had been flabbergasted to learn, last year, that his late wife had a secret daughter, whom she had given up for adoption. ‘It can’t be true,’ he kept saying. Ruth, prevented from hugging him by the social distancing rules at the time, had leant forward and touched his arm. ‘It was before you met Mum. She was really young at the time. I really think you’d like Zoe if you met her.’ But Arthur has stubbornly resisted doing so even though Simon, Ruth’s older brother, has also tried to engineer a meeting. Simon seems delighted by his new sister. Almost insultingly so, in Ruth’s opinion.
Simon and his wife Cathy are having lunch with her parents but have promised (threatened?) to pop in later. Ruth had hoped for a walk with her father, maybe to visit her mum’s grave, a pilgrimage that Arthur makes, with Gloria’s blessing, most days. But she knows that Gloria always makes Sunday lunch for one o’clock on the dot. They will have to find time afterwards.
Social distancing rules are relaxed now but Ruth still doesn’t want to take any risks with her dad, who is eighty-three and rather frail. They don’t hug but exchange warm smiles. Kate hands over her handmade card. It says ‘Happy Father’s Day, Grandad’ in bubble writing above a rather good drawing of a bespectacled man sitting in an armchair. Ruth doesn’t know if Kate has made a card for Nelson.
