Dying Fall

does.
    ‘Thank you,’ says the receptionist. She hands them two sets of disposable coveralls. ‘You can change in there.’ She points to a discreet room marked ‘Changing’.
    ‘Is it unisex?’ asks Clayton.
    ‘Yes.’
    Ruth hates coveralls. She thinks they make her look like a barrage balloon. Add a hairnet and you’ve got instant Ena Sharples. They are given two pairs of gloves each,one long and blue, which pull up over the coat cuffs, the other short and flesh-coloured.
    ‘It’s a bit excessive, isn’t it?’ says Ruth.
    Clayton shrugs. In his paper suit he looks oddly like an ageing toddler. ‘I suppose they’ve got a lot of sensitive stuff here. One spot of DNA in the wrong place …’
    ‘I suppose so.’ Ruth doesn’t like the idea of all Lancashire’s unsolved murders being pinned on her. She pulls the gloves higher and puts on her face mask. Thus attired, they waddle out into the reception area.
    A man is waiting for them. He pulls down his mask to say, ‘I’m Terry Durkin, forensic analyst. You’re from the university?’
    ‘Yes.’ Clayton introduces himself and Ruth.
    ‘This way please.’
    Afterwards, Ruth’s main memory is of swing doors. Door after door, swishing silently as they pass. What was that Bowie song about memory being a swinging door? Dan would have known. The corridors seem endless, blue light and grey carpets. Eventually they reach a row of lifts.
    ‘It’s on the third floor.’
    Ruth hates lifts. This one judders painfully between floors, making her worry that she and Clayton together have exceeded the weight limit. What a way to go. Too fat for a lift. When they reach the third floor, she practically jumps out onto the landing, leaving Clayton and Terry Durkin to fend for themselves.
    Durkin ushers them into a small room where a numbered container sits on a metal table.
    ‘The bones are in there.’
    ‘Who logged them in?’
    ‘I did,’ says Durkin. ‘I was on duty that day.’
    ‘Who brought them in?’
    ‘It was Guy. Guy Delaware.’
    Interesting, thinks Ruth. Does this support Guy’s claim to be closely involved on the project or was he just running Dan’s errands? ‘Do you know what happened to the samples that were taken away for testing?’ she asks.
    ‘When were they taken?’
    Ruth looks at Clayton. ‘At the dig,’ he confirms.
    ‘I only know what happens in this building,’ intones Durkin. ‘Nothing enters or leaves this building without us knowing.’
    ‘We’d better not leave anything behind then,’ laughs Clayton.
    ‘Oh, you’ll leave something behind,’ says Durkin, unsmiling. ‘A hair, a trace of sweat, some fibres. We’ll have your DNA somewhere, you can be sure of that.’
    Once again, it strikes Ruth that this is a very high-tech place to store archaeological finds. She asks Clayton if there was any suggestion that the bones were, in fact, modern.
    ‘No,’ says Clayton. ‘None at all. After all, they were buried inside a sarcophagus. We could date the tomb fairly accurately.’
    ‘Then why not keep them at the university?’
    Clayton looks uncomfortable. He doesn’t meet Ruth’s eye as he says, ‘As I mentioned, there was some bad feeling about the dig.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Oh …’ Clayton seems suddenly completely preoccupied in adjusting his plastic gloves. ‘Waste of resources. That sort of thing.’
    ‘Bad feeling towards Dan?’ Ruth persists.
    Clayton looks up, his plump face shocked. ‘No! Dan didn’t have an enemy in the world.’
    That’s not what the police think, though. Ruth remembers her conversation with Nelson. The police think that someone killed Dan. That that someone may well be at Pendle University and may well be the same someone who is sending Ruth texts, warning her to stay away from these very bones. Well – she squares her shoulders as she takes the box from Durkin – she can’t be scared that easily. Well she can, but that’s not the point. The point is that she’s here despite being scared. She starts to lay the bones out on the examination table.
    She starts to arrange the skeleton in correct anatomical order, looking for any distinguishing marks – disease, malnutrition, trauma – anything that would help her create a picture of the person who died so many years ago. At first sight the bones look to be those of an adult male, which is a relief, whatever Clayton says. They also look old, which may not mean anything. Recent skeletons are usually fairly obvious but it’s