Disturbed Earth (Ritual Crime Unit Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

remove the skulls? We can’t keep this place cordoned off for you all day.”
    “That depends on the outcome,” Dawson said, looking past Bowers to where DC Taylor was approaching, accompanied by a tall, cadaverously thin gent with a dark Van Dyke who was carrying a duffle bag. He wore a suit jacket over a black T-shirt with a pentagram design, and small round glasses with yellow lenses.
    Pierce could have picked him out as the necromancer in a crowd without even being told she was looking for one. She doubted he could do anything except make matters worse, but she couldn’t send him away now without making the RCU look like they didn’t know their arses from their elbows.
    Not that they had much credit to lose with Bowers on that front. He looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel as Dawson strode off without a backwards glance to hail the new arrival.
    “Mr Vyner! Thanks for getting here so quickly.” So her DI did have manners, he just didn’t think the local police they had to work with day-in, day-out merited them. Bloody wonderful.
    She could sympathise with Bowers’ visible headache, but she doubted he’d appreciate the commiseration. “’Scuse me,” she said politely, more to stick it to Dawson than out of any hope of papering over the damage he’d already done, and went to join her subordinates with Vyner. She just hoped that this alleged necromancer could manage some sort of performance that wouldn’t leave all them looking like idiots.
    The necromancer had a soft, dry voice that was made for snooker commentary, and a penchant for stroking his beard as he listened. “Hmm, yes, I see, I see,” he was saying as Dawson outlined the situation. “And these skulls haven’t been moved from their resting place?”
    “Excavated by police forensic specialists,” Dawson assured him. “They’re very careful not to disturb anything from its original position.”
    “Excellent, excellent.” Vyner nodded. “An unquiet spirit builds a connection to the soil in which it’s interred; the raising will be easier if the bones are still in place.”
    Constable Taylor looked like he was drinking this all in, but Pierce preferred to talk practicalities. “So what’s the plan?” she asked bluntly. “What can you do, and what do you need to do it?”
    Vyner turned to face her, eyes rendered uncomfortably unreadable behind the tinted lenses of his glasses. He had the kind of calm composure that could indicate confidence—or just a plain old con.
    “If the soul died in pain or spiritual distress, then I should be able to call it forth and command it to speak,” he said. “But I can’t guarantee it will have any story to tell. Spirits are no more than lingering impressions, the psychic stain left behind by the victim’s final memories. They fixate, and rarely retain enough self to offer more than one or two repetitive thoughts.”
    Genuine and smart enough not to promise too much, or covering for the fact his so-called ritual wouldn’t do a damn thing?
    “We’ll start with this one,” Dawson said, leading the way to the first skull they’d uncovered, out in the open.
    They stood and watched with varying degrees of scepticism as Vyner made his preparations. He laid out a carefully measured ritual circle around the excavation using poured salt and powders, then drove metal stakes into the ground at points around the circle, joining them together with taut strings. He set out various items on a cloth beside him—a knife, a set of brass scales, a mirror—and planted seven blood red candles around the circle. All the way through, he kept up a low chanting under his breath, the rhythmic words indistinguishable.
    At last, when he was satisfied, he sat back on his heels. “If I could have silence, please?” he said. “Everyone, be careful not to come too close to the circle—it’s vital that the line remain unbroken.”
    Vyner struck a match and raised it to light the first of the candles.