Dying Fall

black warrior called Arthur?
    ‘I love Chinese food,’ says Ruth. ‘Well, I love most food.’
    Susan, who is the size of a sparrow, smiles withoutcomprehension and tucks into a spring roll. When Susan rang and suggested this meal, saying that she could show Ruth the photos of the dig at the same time, Ruth had been pleased. She had liked Susan when she met her (despite the embarrassment of Kate and the papier-mâché model) and here was a chance to find out more about the history department and about Dan as an archaeologist. But since then Ruth has read Dan’s diaries and sees Susan in a different light. Was this neat, precise woman really Dan’s lover? She remembers something Susan said when she first talked about Dan and the excavation. He was a man possessed, she said. She had sounded sad. Perhaps Susan felt that King Arthur had taken Dan away from her.
    ‘I don’t cook much for myself,’ Susan is saying. ‘Well, there’s no need. Mostly it’s just me and Trixie. My dog,’ she explains, seeing Ruth’s quizzical expression.
    ‘It used to just be me and my cat,’ says Ruth. ‘But now I’ve got Kate so I try to cook proper meals.’
    ‘Oh yes,’ says Susan. ‘I remember Kate.’
    The photos are spread out on the table, with difficulty as the table is also laden with food. Susan has ordered dishes that Ruth has never encountered before (they don’t even appear on the menu) but they are all, without exception, delicious. Ruth tries not to eat too greedily, taking frequent sips of jasmine tea and remembering to wipe her mouth on her napkin.
    The pictures show a meticulously organised dig, a perfectly symmetrical trench, everything numbered andmeasured and recorded. One photo shows the skeleton in situ, arms crossed on the chest. Then the bones are being sorted and bagged. The site looks pretty crowded, volunteers working in the trench, other people just watching and taking photos. Ruth identifies a few faces. She thinks that’s Guy kneeling by the trench and surely that’s Elaine, swigging from a flask, her blonde hair shining in the sun. Dan seems to be everywhere, kneeling to examine the bones, standing in the trench, hand shielding his eyes, talking into his mobile phone, laughing with the volunteers. Ruth finds herself looking at one picture in particular. Dan is examining the skull, which is lying on a tarpaulin by the trench. There is something Hamlet-like about the pose and certainly, in retrospect, something almost tragic about Dan’s bowed head. Did he suspect then that the skull was African? Did he know the danger he was in? In the background of the picture she can see Guy looking intently at his friend. Ruth feels that she would give a great deal to know what was in his mind at that moment.
    ‘Were you close to Dan?’ she asks Susan.
    She expects the other woman to evade the question but Susan looks at her calmly over the crowded table.
    ‘Yes. We had a brief affair about a year back. Nothing too serious. It ended by mutual consent and we stayed friends. I was fond of him. He was very charismatic.’
    ‘Yes,’ Ruth agrees. ‘He was.’ She can’t help thinking that Susan’s account of the affair sounds a little too civilised. Nothing’s ever that straightforward, surely?
    ‘Dan went out with Elaine too, didn’t he?’
    Now there is fire in Susan’s eyes. She breathes in sharply, nostrils flaring.
    ‘That woman. She trapped Dan into sleeping with her and then threatened to kill herself when he tried to end it. She’s a complete nut job.’
    Ruth is always sceptical when men say they’ve been trapped into sex by women and she’s not more convinced by Susan’s claim. But she’s never heard the bit about suicide before.
    ‘Elaine threatened to kill herself?’
    ‘Oh she didn’t go through with it,’ says Susan dismissively and unnecessarily. ‘She’s just an attention seeker.’
    How far would Elaine go in search of attention, thinks Ruth. Dressing up in a mask and robe? Burning down a house?
    ‘Do you know anything about a group called the White Hand?’ she asks.
    ‘No,’ says Susan. ‘Who are they?’ Her gaze is clear and almost child-like. But Susan is a highly intelligent woman.
    Ruth smiles back. ‘It’s not important. Do you want some more egg-fried rice?’

CHAPTER 27
    On Monday morning, Cathbad leaves promptly at nine. He feels rather guilty at abandoning Ruth, but as he turns out of Beach Row he sees a huge gas-guzzling monster car pulling up at