A Room Full of Bones: A Ruth Galloway Investigation

early wasn’t it? I thought the bun fight started at three.’
    ‘I’d been to the supermarket. Didn’t think it was worth driving home and back.’ She looks at Nelson. ‘It’s Kate’s birthday tomorrow. I was shopping for her party.’
    There is a long silence. Nelson flinches as if her words cause him actual, bodily pain. Then, as if continuing a conversation started a long time ago, they both speak at once.
    ‘I’m sorry …’
    ‘I didn’t …’
    They both stop. Ruth’s face is flushed, Nelson’s very pale. She looks away. The window is high in the wall, too small to see out of if you’re sitting down, but she gazes at it anyway.
    ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you don’t want to talk about her.’
    ‘It’s not that.’ Nelson looks down at the untidy desk, starts to move objects randomly. A fossil paperweight here, a pile of unopened bills there. ‘It’s just …’ He stops. ‘I promised.’
    ‘I know. You promised Michelle you wouldn’t see her.’ Ruth’s voice is flat. ‘Or me.’
    ‘It was the only way I could save my … make it up to her.’
    ‘I understand. I said so at the time, didn’t I?’
    ‘You’ve been great. It’s just me.’ He shifts the paperweight again and gives a sigh that is almost a groan. ‘I’ve messed things up for everyone.’
    ‘Oh, spare us the Catholic guilt Nelson.’ Ruth gets out her phone and checks the time. A new phone, Nelson notices. Rather a smart one. ‘Let’s get on with it. I thought you were meant to be conducting an investigation here.’
    ‘Fine.’ Nelson squares his shoulders. ‘You arrived at two-sixteen. Was anyone else here?’
    ‘No. I thought it was odd. After all, the event was in less than an hour’s time. Anyway, the place was deserted so I thought I’d just have a look round. I went through the Natural History Gallery …’
    ‘The one with all the stuffed animals?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Gives me the creeps.’
    ‘Me too. Then I went into the Local History Room and there he was, lying by the coffin.’
    ‘Did you recognise him?’
    ‘Not at first but when I turned the body over—’ She stops.
    ‘Are you OK? Do you want a glass of water?’
    Ruth smiles faintly. ‘Is this your softly softly interviewing technique? No. I’m OK. I’d only met Neil once or twice before but I recognised him.’
    ‘Where was he lying?’
    ‘Next to the coffin. He was on his side, legs drawn up, one arm over his head.’
    ‘Was there any blood?’
    ‘Yes. On his face.’
    ‘As if he’d been battered around the head?’
    ‘No. Around his nose. Almost as if he’d had a nose bleed.’ She stops.
    ‘Did you touch him?’
    ‘Yes,’ Ruth’s voice is sharp. ‘Of course I touched him. I wanted to see if he was alive.’
    ‘And was he?’
    ‘I wasn’t sure,’ Ruth admits. ‘His skin was warm but I couldn’t find a pulse at first. I called an ambulance, then I thought I felt a faint heartbeat. I don’t know anything about first aid.’
    ‘When did you call the police?’
    ‘About a minute later. It suddenly occurred to me that someone might have done this to him.’
    ‘You thought he might have been murdered?’
    ‘I didn’t know what to think. He looked as if he might have had a fit. Maybe he was epileptic or something.’
    ‘We’ll find out if so. Chris Stephenson’s on his way to the hospital.’
    Ruth grimaces. A dislike of Stephenson is something she and Nelson have in common.
    ‘Was the window open?’ asks Nelson.
    ‘What?’
    ‘The window in the room where you found the body. Was it open?
    ‘I think so, yes. There was a book on the floor and the breeze was turning the pages.’
    ‘I’ll get SOCO to look at the book. Might be prints on it, I suppose.’
    ‘Do
you
think he may have been murdered then?’
    Nelson is about to answer when there’s a peremptory knock and the door opens to admit a man – tall, bronzed, grey-haired with a decided air of command. He has a large, hawk-like nose which seems to enter the room a few seconds before the rest of him. He also looks vaguely familiar. Rocky Taylor is hovering in the background.
    ‘I said I wasn’t to be disturbed,’ snaps Nelson.
    ‘Danforth Smith.’ The tall man holds out his hand. Nelson ignores him and looks at Rocky.
    ‘Lord Smith.’ Henty appears and makes an apologetic introduction. ‘The owner of the museum.’
    ‘I came at once,’ Danforth Smith is saying in confident upper-class tones that set Nelson’s teeth