Dying Fall

thinking. ‘Doctor Galloway, I know you’ve had some threatening texts. Have you received anything else unusual, either as a text message or via email?’
    ‘What do you mean, “unusual”?’ asks Ruth.
    ‘Somebody wanting your bank account details, personal information, anything like that.’
    ‘Nigerian businessman needs a loan,’ says Nelson. ‘You know the kind of thing.’
    ‘I’m hardly going to fall for …’ begins Ruth. Then she stops.
    ‘What is it?’ asks Nelson.
    Ruth is thinking of her cottage on the Saltmarsh. Ofopening her computer and reading that first cheery message from University Pals.
Hi Ruth! Want to catch up with your old mates from uni?
    She describes the email to Tim. He exchanges a glance with Sandy.
    ‘Sounds like a classic phishing exercise,’ he says.
    ‘Fishing?’
    He spells out the word. ‘It’s an internet scam designed to elicit personal information.’
    ‘But they didn’t ask for bank details,’ says Ruth, feeling defensive.
    ‘No. It sounds to me more like someone wanted to assume your identity.’
    ‘Why?’ says Sandy, as if this was the last identity
he’d
choose.
    ‘They must have known that Doctor Galloway was going to investigate Dan Golding’s discovery. They may have wanted to make enquiries in her name.’
    ‘What sort of enquiries?’ says Sandy.
    ‘Test results,’ says Ruth. ‘Dan sent samples to forensic labs for testing. I’m trying to track them down.’
    ‘Is there anything about the tests on the computer?’ asks Tim.
    Ruth has had a quick look through the archaeology file. She noticed immediately that Dan had used a laboratory in the US for the DNA and isotopic tests. Why had he done that? There are plenty of excellent labs in the UK. Why bother to send samples all the way to the States?
    ‘I’ve found the lab he used,’ she says. ‘They’re in New York so I can call them this afternoon.’
    ‘Anything about the White Hand in the diary?’ asks Sandy.
    ‘Bits and pieces,’ says Ruth. ‘I haven’t read it all yet.’ She feels disinclined to share Dan’s secret thoughts with these people who didn’t know him and didn’t care about his work.
    ‘There’s quite a lot on Pendragon’s computer,’ says Tim. ‘A kind of manifesto. Lots of stuff about the Arthurian legends, Arthur being the great White King who’ll come again to purge England of all undesirable aliens.’ He speaks lightly but Ruth wonders how it feels for him to read such nakedly racist sentiments. She herself has enormous trouble relating them to Pendragon, that kindly Father Christmas figure.
    ‘Any names and addresses?’ asks Sandy. ‘Anything helpful?’
    ‘We can take it to the forensic recovery people,’ says Tim. ‘If there’s anything there, they’ll find it. I’ll give them the memory stick too.’
    Sandy grunts, probably at the use of the ‘f’ word. Ruth says, ‘Can I take a copy of the diaries? I’d like to read them all. See if I can find … if I can find any clues.’
    ‘You might as well,’ says Sandy. ‘Harm’s done now. Tim can make copies of everything for you.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Mind you tell us if you find anything that strikes you as worth investigating,’ says Sandy.
    Ruth says she will. Sandy takes another roll and turns to Cathbad. ‘Think that’s why your mate topped himself, because he was mixed up with this Nazi group?’
    Even Nelson winces but Cathbad just says quietly, ‘I don’t know why he did it.’
    ‘Didn’t even have the decency to leave a note,’ says Sandy. ‘Get us some more coffee, Tim, there’s a good lad.’
    *
    The police car deposits Ruth and Cathbad back in Lytham, to the delighted interest of their neighbours. Neither of them feels like lunch after the huge police breakfast but Ruth makes sandwiches for Kate and Cathbad eats the crusts abstractedly.
    ‘I’ll take Kate to the park this afternoon,’ says Ruth. ‘Give you some time to rest. You must be exhausted.’ Cathbad doesn’t look tired; in fact he seems almost unnaturally calm and self-controlled. Ruth feels quite in awe of him.
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ he says. ‘Thing could do with a walk.’
    Under the table, Thing wags his tail noisily. Ruth doesn’t know if animals are allowed in the cottage but what else could they do with him? Cathbad says he’ll take him to a dog rescue place but Ruth thinks otherwise. She suspects that Cathbad and Thing are stuck with each other for life.
    At two o’clock, Ruth