someone else’s head? She turns the object round in her hands, wondering about its owner. Without carbon-14 dating it’s almost impossible for her to tell how old it is, or even if it belonged to a man or a woman. The complete skulls are easier, the sloping brow-ridge and the pronounced nuchal crest at the back tell her that they are all male. One has scars which may be indicative of syphilis. But it is the last skull that makes her sit back on her heels, as shocked as if she had suddenly come face-to-face with Smith Senior and his grave-robbing friends.
The skull has cut marks all over it. Clean cut marks unhealed, which shows that they were made at the point of death or soon after. The position of the cut marks indicate that the head has had the skin cut from it. It has been scalped.
CHAPTER 10
Cathbad’s silence is easily explained. He is helping the police with their enquiries. Or rather, he is entertaining Nelson and Judy in his caravan on the beach at Blakeney. Cathbad seems determined to keep the occasion social, offering them tea and brownies, enquiring after Michelle and the girls. Nelson answers brusquely. He’s annoyed with Cathbad for putting him in this position. Why the hell did his fingerprints have to be found at the scene? Does the man get everywhere?
He doesn’t think that Cathbad killed Neil Topham but he’s mixed up in it somehow. He was at the museum that day and, as for the Elginists, they have Cathbad’s name written all over them. Cathbad loves nothing more than a fight with authority and this one would be right up his street.
‘I expect you know why we’re here,’ is Nelson’s opening gambit.
‘I’m sure you’ll tell me,’ replies Cathbad genially.
Progress through the caravan is difficult. Objects hang from the ceiling and there is furniture everywhere, mostly draped in material so that it is hard to know whether it’s a chair or a table that you’ve just fallen over. Nelson gets tangled up in a dreamcatcher made of seashells and swats at it wildly. It breaks.
‘Sorry,’ he says, not sounding it.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ says Cathbad. ‘I can make another.’
‘Do you sell them to gullible tourists?’ asks Nelson, landing with relief onto a bench seat.
‘No, I give them to special people in my life,’ says Cathbad. He looks at Judy, who looks away.
Nelson, who is the not-so-proud owner of two of Cathbad’s dreamcatchers, gets straight down to business.
‘We found your prints at the museum. Are you going to tell us what’s going on?’
Cathbad settles himself in a tall wizard’s chair. He smiles. Nelson glowers at him. He distrusts Cathbad’s smile.
‘I was in the museum on Saturday,’ he says. ‘You know that. I came for the opening of Bishop Augustine’s coffin.’
‘But how come your prints were found in the Local History Room, which was closed to the public?’
Cathbad sighs. He turns to Judy. ‘Have you ever been to the Smith Museum?’ he asks her. ‘Fascinating collection.’
Judy is fiddling with her phone. She looks tired again today, thinks Nelson, and she hardly spoke on the drive from the station. Christ, he hopes she isn’t pregnant.
Judy meets Cathbad’s eyes. ‘I went once when I was at school. I thought it was boring.’
Cathbad seems delighted by this answer. He laughs. ‘Then you should look below the surface. There are horrors underneath.’
Nelson has had enough of this. ‘Give me a straight answer,’ he growls, ‘or we’ll conduct this interview at the station. Were you or were you not in the Local History Room that day?’
‘Yes, Detective Chief Inspector,’ says Cathbad, with deceptive meekness. ‘I was. I arrived at about two o’clock. There was no one to be seen, though all the drinks and goodies were laid out in the long gallery. I went into the Local History Room to pay my respects to Bishop Augustine.’
‘Why?’
‘He was an interesting character. People thought he was a saint. Apparently he could bilocate, be in two places at once.’
Nelson can see exactly why this would appeal to Cathbad. ‘When you went into the room,’ he asks, ‘did you see the curator?’
‘No. There wasn’t a soul about.’
‘Did you know Neil Topham? Did you ever meet him at one of your weirdy gatherings?’
‘I met him once or twice at events organised by the museum,’ says Cathbad with dignity. ‘I wouldn’t say we were friends.’
‘But you didn’t see him that day?’
‘No.’
‘Was there anything unusual in the room when you went in?’
Cathbad raises his eyebrows. ‘Apart from it having a dirty great coffin in the middle? No.’
‘Nothing on the floor? No exhibits out of place?’
‘No. I don’t think so.’ Cathbad is definitely curious now.
‘Was the window open?’
‘I’m not sure… No, I remember thinking how hot it was in there.’
‘Hot?’
Cathbad looks innocent. ‘Yes, hot. Close.’
‘What else did you do?’
‘Went up to the coffin. Said a prayer to the good spirits. Then I had a quick look round the room. There’s a picture of the henge, you know.’
‘Have you seen this before?’ Nelson holds out a copy of the museum guidebook. It’s not the book found in the room with the dead body (that’s still with forensics) but it’s folded back on the same page.
‘It’s from the museum, isn’t it?’
‘Take a look at this page. Does it mean anything to you?’
‘The Smith Family,’ Cathbad reads aloud in a polite, interested voice, ‘have lived in Norfolk since the middle ages. The first recorded Smith was Augustine, Bishop of Norwich from 1340 to 1362. Bishop Augustine was much loved for his charitable work and when he died hundreds visited his body as it lay in state. There is a statue to him at the cathedral. In the sixteenth century Thomas Smith aided Henry VIII in the Dissolution of the Monasteries and in 1538 was rewarded by the gift of Slinden Abbey, which had previously been a monastery. Thomas reverted to Catholicism during the reign of Mary Tudor but reverted again to become a loyal protestant under Elizabeth I. He was knighted in 1560. In the Civil War, Slinden was the scene of a particularly bloody battle and was renamed Slaughter Hill. Lord Edmund Smith fought on the Royalist side and was killed in the battle. Other prominent Smiths have included Hubert Smith, an actor who performed with Beerbohm Tree, and Sir Gilbert Smith, a Conservative MP in the Eden government. The present Lord Smith is a successful racehorse owner and trainer.’
The words ‘died’, ‘Slaughter’ and ‘killed’ have been underlined.
‘A fascinating family,’ says Cathbad.
‘Have you seen this guidebook, with these words underlined, before?’
Cathbad looks up from examining an engraving of Slinden Abbey. ‘No. Why?’
‘It was found in the room with Neil Topham’s body.’
‘It wasn’t there when I went into the room.’
Nelson glares at Cathbad, who looks back at him with wide, innocent eyes. The dreamcatchers sparkle overhead.
‘What did you do next?’ asks Nelson. ‘When you left the Local History Room.’
‘Had a look round the other rooms and then went to meet some friends for a spot of lunch.’
‘You can give their names and addresses to Detective Sergeant Johnson later.’
‘I’ll be glad to.’
Cathbad smiles at Judy, who looks down at her phone again. Nelson says, ‘Cathbad, are you a member of the
