The Crowded Grave

accent. “They said it was still in the skull.”
    “And you are, monsieur?”
    “Kasimir, from Poland, University of Kraków.” He haddark hair, clear blue eyes and wore a T-shirt featuring some Polish artist Bruno had never heard of. Kasimir leaned against the side of the ditch, pulled a pack of tobacco from his pocket and began to roll a cigarette. “They put a black cloth over the grave and sprayed something. Then they shone a light down and said they were sure he’d been killed right here.”
    “Kasimir, did you hear anything else that might help the magistrate here?” Bruno recognized the standard forensic test for blood, although he’d be surprised if traces had lasted so long.
    “They said they thought they might get a rough date of death from the shoes he was wearing. They were sneakers, or at least they had been.” He shrugged. “Other than that, the skeleton looked intact, what we could see. They put screens up.”
    “People must be upset,” said Annette. “Would you like me to arrange for some counseling?”
    “Counseling?” asked Kasimir, snorting. “We’re here to find bodies. Skeletons are what we do.”
    “Something else I wanted to ask,” Bruno said, turning to Teddy. “Where were you in the early hours of this morning, around dawn?”
    Teddy looked startled. “In bed, fast asleep, back at the campsite.”
    “And Kajte? That girl I saw you with.”
    “She was with me.” There was a touch of bravado in the statement. “She was there when I woke up. We all had breakfast together. Kas was there. You remember this morning?”
    “I’m not good in the mornings, but we were all there today, drinking the worst coffee in the world,” Kasimir said, lighting his cigarette. “Why do you ask?”
    “Some animal rights militants tried to liberate a farm full of ducks. Some of the ducks were killed when they wandered onto the road, which seems a funny way of protecting animals.”
    “Maybe no worse than the alternative,” said Teddy. “But you’re all into foie gras around here.”
    “Not all of us,” said Annette, suddenly animated. She turned to Bruno. “What happened?”
    “A nearby farm had its fences torn apart, and PETA leaflets were stuck on the bits that were left. It stands for ‘People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals,’ ” Bruno said. “The farmer has kids to raise, and he barely makes a living as it is, without losing a few ducks and geese and having to repair fences. And around here, we believe in the ethical treatment of farmers.”
    Teddy said nothing, but Kasimir looked at him curiously.
    “You ever tried foie gras?” Bruno asked, his tone conversational rather than challenging.
    “Of course,” said Kasimir, as Teddy shook his massive head. “We have it in Poland as well, always at Christmas. We have a sweet white wine from Hungary with it, a Tokay.”
    “So the cruelty these PETA people talk about, it doesn’t worry you?”
    Kasimir grinned. “If there’s any cruelty, blame Mother Nature. Ducks and geese always stuff themselves to swell their livers before they fly off on winter migration. That’s how they store their energy. Everybody knows that.”
    From the look on Teddy’s face, it didn’t appear to Bruno that he knew that gavage, the force-feeding of the birds, was also a natural process. He glanced at Annette. She also looked surprised.
    “Well, if you hear of any of your pals making plans to attack more farms, talk them out of it. Or I’ll be making arrests for criminal damage. And Annette here will have to bring charges. That’s her job.” Bruno turned away, then looked back at Teddy.
    “One more thing. Rugby practice is tomorrow evening at six, if you’re interested, and again at nine on Saturday morning.We have spare gear at the stadium—you know where it is? First left after the Bricomarché, and you’ll see the rugby posts.”
    “Thanks,” said Teddy, looking surprised. “I’d like that.”
    “You might want to bring Kajte along,” Bruno added. “And tell her to be careful where she does her photocopying.”
    Teddy’s cheerful face suddenly clouded, and he looked away.
    “What was that last remark about?” Annette asked as they headed back to Bruno’s car.
    “I made a few inquiries. Kajte was doing the photocopying for the dig, work rotations and stuff. I think she photocopied the leaflets that were left on the wire, and I checked the websites she was using—she was looking up PETA slogans and