investigation in the lab.
Looking at the emerging collection of bones, Rhona was in no doubt that they formed part of a small human skeleton. She began ticking off each bone on the skeleton recording sheet, already knowing it was incomplete, unsurprisingly given its relatively exposed position. When she had completed her check, she knelt in a moment in contemplative silence before she called for McNab.
He entered the tent and stood next to her, his tall frame bent under the low roof.
‘A child?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘How long do you think it’s been there?’
Rhona shook her head. ‘I’ll have to take a look at the vegetation cover before I hazard a guess. Above ground like this a child’s skeleton would deteriorate quickly.’
‘A private estate apparently passed ownership of the wood to the local council twelve years ago, to be used as amenity woodland.’
‘That could help with the time frame.’
‘You’re sure there’s only one?’
Rhona showed McNab the recording sheet. ‘We’re missing a few bones, but there are no duplicates.’
A sudden breeze plucked at the tent, rippling the plastic. Rhona heard a faint humming noise amid the creak of branches overhead.
‘That’s it,’ McNab said animatedly. ‘That’s the sound I heard last night.’
They ducked outside. The wind was coming in gusts, swaying the upper branches of the circling pines. Rhona could hear a high-pitched whine.
‘D’you hear it?’ asked McNab.
The sound rose and split into something resembling a musical chord. It was eerily compelling. Rhona looked up, searching the branches for whatever was making the increasingly familiar sound. She had definitely heard something like it before.
Then she remembered. When she was a child on Skye, a New Age enthusiast, escaping from city life, had come to live near by. She’d been fascinated by a large wooden structure he’d built in his back garden. It had been designed like a tunnel. Standing inside, listening to its music, was weird and unsettling, yet at the same time magical.
‘I think it’s a wind harp.’
McNab looked perplexed.
‘A structure that resonates in the wind to make a kind of music.’
Now that she knew what she was looking for, it was easier to spot.
‘Up there,’ she told McNab.
The tree was an ancient pine that had survived from some earlier forest. In its uppermost branches was a wooden construction, smaller than the one Rhona’s neighbour had made. Paler in colour than the bark, it was narrow with holes at various positions.
‘Who put that there?’
‘Maybe the local council, as part of the woodland experience. Maybe just someone who likes wind harps.’
As the wind lifted, the sound rose to pulsate around them. ‘I think Emma probably followed that sound,’ said Rhona.
McNab looked relieved that the girl’s story might have a logical explanation, which surprised Rhona. She hadn’t taken McNab for the superstitious kind. They had worked together on a voodoo case and McNab had openly ridiculed the notion of witchcraft. Rhona suspected that finding a lost child in this wood nursing a skull would have spooked anyone, even him.
‘I’d check with the council. See if the wind harp’s theirs,’ Rhona suggested. ‘If it is, they’ll have a record of its installation. Might help again with our time frame.’
Rhona returned to the relative silence of the tent. Now the skeleton was exposed and recorded, she could lift it and transport it to the lab. After that she would concentrate on excavating below the remains until she reached the undisturbed layers. Rhona set to work.
7
‘Is there anyone who could keep an eye on you?’
‘I’ve got good neighbours.’ Claire didn’t mention the fact that the nearest was a mile and a half away. ‘But I’m not sure how we’ll get home.’
‘You could wait for an ambulance, but that might take a while.’ Dr Spence looked apologetic.
‘It’s OK. We’ll manage.’
‘I’ll let your local
Looking at the emerging collection of bones, Rhona was in no doubt that they formed part of a small human skeleton. She began ticking off each bone on the skeleton recording sheet, already knowing it was incomplete, unsurprisingly given its relatively exposed position. When she had completed her check, she knelt in a moment in contemplative silence before she called for McNab.
He entered the tent and stood next to her, his tall frame bent under the low roof.
‘A child?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘How long do you think it’s been there?’
Rhona shook her head. ‘I’ll have to take a look at the vegetation cover before I hazard a guess. Above ground like this a child’s skeleton would deteriorate quickly.’
‘A private estate apparently passed ownership of the wood to the local council twelve years ago, to be used as amenity woodland.’
‘That could help with the time frame.’
‘You’re sure there’s only one?’
Rhona showed McNab the recording sheet. ‘We’re missing a few bones, but there are no duplicates.’
A sudden breeze plucked at the tent, rippling the plastic. Rhona heard a faint humming noise amid the creak of branches overhead.
‘That’s it,’ McNab said animatedly. ‘That’s the sound I heard last night.’
They ducked outside. The wind was coming in gusts, swaying the upper branches of the circling pines. Rhona could hear a high-pitched whine.
‘D’you hear it?’ asked McNab.
The sound rose and split into something resembling a musical chord. It was eerily compelling. Rhona looked up, searching the branches for whatever was making the increasingly familiar sound. She had definitely heard something like it before.
Then she remembered. When she was a child on Skye, a New Age enthusiast, escaping from city life, had come to live near by. She’d been fascinated by a large wooden structure he’d built in his back garden. It had been designed like a tunnel. Standing inside, listening to its music, was weird and unsettling, yet at the same time magical.
‘I think it’s a wind harp.’
McNab looked perplexed.
‘A structure that resonates in the wind to make a kind of music.’
Now that she knew what she was looking for, it was easier to spot.
‘Up there,’ she told McNab.
The tree was an ancient pine that had survived from some earlier forest. In its uppermost branches was a wooden construction, smaller than the one Rhona’s neighbour had made. Paler in colour than the bark, it was narrow with holes at various positions.
‘Who put that there?’
‘Maybe the local council, as part of the woodland experience. Maybe just someone who likes wind harps.’
As the wind lifted, the sound rose to pulsate around them. ‘I think Emma probably followed that sound,’ said Rhona.
McNab looked relieved that the girl’s story might have a logical explanation, which surprised Rhona. She hadn’t taken McNab for the superstitious kind. They had worked together on a voodoo case and McNab had openly ridiculed the notion of witchcraft. Rhona suspected that finding a lost child in this wood nursing a skull would have spooked anyone, even him.
‘I’d check with the council. See if the wind harp’s theirs,’ Rhona suggested. ‘If it is, they’ll have a record of its installation. Might help again with our time frame.’
Rhona returned to the relative silence of the tent. Now the skeleton was exposed and recorded, she could lift it and transport it to the lab. After that she would concentrate on excavating below the remains until she reached the undisturbed layers. Rhona set to work.
7
‘Is there anyone who could keep an eye on you?’
‘I’ve got good neighbours.’ Claire didn’t mention the fact that the nearest was a mile and a half away. ‘But I’m not sure how we’ll get home.’
‘You could wait for an ambulance, but that might take a while.’ Dr Spence looked apologetic.
‘It’s OK. We’ll manage.’
‘I’ll let your local
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