A Room Full of Bones: A Ruth Galloway Investigation

from safety, from back-up.
    ‘Stand still,’ barks Harris, in a voice that has no doubt subdued many a rampaging horse. Judy stands still. She puts her hand in her pocket, trying to find her phone. But it’s in her jeans pocket, impossible to find under the folds of the cagoule. Really, she’s made a complete mess of everything. She’s not fit to be the Senior Investigating Officer. If she dies, will the obituaries be kind to her? Will Darren be given her uniform and a folded union jack? What about Cathbad? Will anyone even tell him? Or will he know, with his famous druid’s sixth sense?
    ‘Such a shame,’ Harris is saying. ‘A tragic accident. Shot, no doubt, by those mysterious intruders spotted by Mr Randolph. I knew his drug trips would come in useful one day. What a brave policewoman. So young, too. So pretty.’ He leers at her.
    ‘I know everything,’ says Judy desperately. ‘About the drug smuggling, everything. I know you’re smuggling the drugs inside those poor horses. They’re
literally
mules aren’t they? You force them to swallow the drugs and sometimes they get terribly ill, like the horses I saw. Fancy and the other one. But you don’t care, do you? They’re not living creatures to you. They’re just tools.’
    ‘Very eloquent,’ says Harris, who sounds as if he’s smiling. ‘But who’s going to believe such a fairy tale? Poor Detective Sergeant, it sounds like you’ve been sniffing some of Randolph’s magic powder.’
    ‘I’ve written it all down in a report,’ lies Judy. ‘I’ve got proof. They found straw in some of the drugs; it can be traced back to the stables. I saw a condom in some horse manure. That can be traced too.’
    But Judy hadn’t, at the time, realised the significance of the piece of rubber in the crap that had found its way onto Clough’s shoe. Realisation had come later. The horses had been forced to swallow drugs wrapped inside condoms. What had Clough said? Kinder Egg. Surprise every time.
    ‘Bullshit,’ says Harris. ‘Or should I say horse shit? You’ve got nothing on me.’
    Judy lunges at him, meaning to knock the gun out of his hand. But Len Harris is too quick for her, he sidesteps and she falls sprawling in the mud. The next moment, she feels the cold muzzle of the gun pressed against her cheek. This is it. She closes her eyes, wondering why she isn’t thinking of Darren, Cathbad or her parents, but of Ranger, her old pony. Then, instead of the explosion, the nothingness, the triumphant entry into heaven (she isn’t sure which she is expecting), Len Harris is pushed aside by a force that comes from nowhere. Judy crouches on the floor, afraid to move.
    ‘For Christ’s sake Johnson,’ yells the force. ‘Run!’
    It’s Clough.
    *
    The nurses and doctors swarm around Nelson’s bed. Michelle is pushed to the back. She can’t see anything except white coats. Someone brings a machine and it is clamped to Nelson’s chest.
    ‘We’re losing him,’ says one of the doctors.
    Michelle stands pressed against the wall. She feels as if her own heart has left her body.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ Nelson asks.
    ‘Trying to save you,’ says Cathbad.
    The black waves break against the beach. Black birds fill the sky.
    ‘It’s called a murmuration,’ says Cathbad.
    ‘What is?’
    ‘The birds gathering like that. Murmuration.’
    ‘What’s happening to me?’ asks Nelson.
    ‘I don’t know. Interesting isn’t it?’
    The waves continue to break against the stones. The relentless tide.
    Clough hauls Judy to her feet and they run, blindly, in the darkness. Judy has dropped her torch and has no idea which way they’re going. But Clough seems to know and that is enough for her. She runs behind him, the wind pummelling her face. Somewhere close by she can hear Len Harris staggering about. Please God, let them reach the gates before he does. It seems that God is listening; the huge gates loom up in front of them. Judy hears the gates rattle as Clough pulls at them.
    ‘Shit,’ she hears him say. ‘Shit.’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘They’re locked.’
    How can they be locked, thinks Judy. But Clough is pulling at her arm again. ‘Come on!’ They turn and run back towards the park and the trees and the ruins of the Smith mansion. Len Harris is nowhere to be seen. They run on, through the seemingly endless trees.
    Romilly watches the Vicar carefully lift the creature from its plastic container. Terry used to be called the Vet because of