The Calling of the Grave Read Online Free PDF Page A

filthy and pathetic. Simms had returned as we were
finishing, accompanied by the pathologist, who he introduced as Dr Pirie.
        Pirie
cut an odd figure. He couldn't have been much more than five feet tall, so that
his pristine overalls looked too big for his small frame. The face looking at
me from beneath the hood was so fine- boned it could have belonged to a child,
except that the skin was lined and wrinkled, and the eyes behind the gold
half-moon spectacles were old and knowing.
        'Good
evening, gentlemen. Making progress?' His voice was precise and waspish as he
came to the graveside. Next to Wainwright's towering bulk the pathologist
looked smaller than ever, a chihuahua to the archaeologist's Great Dane. But
there was no mistaking the authority he brought with him.
        Wainwright
stood back to give him room. Reluctantly, I thought. 'Nearly done. I was about
to hand over to the SOCOs to finish off.'
        'Good.'
The small mouth pursed as he crouched beside the shallow hole. 'Oh yes, very
nice . . .'
        I
wasn't sure if he was referring to the excavation or the remains themselves.
Pathologists were renowned for being an eccentric breed: Pirie was apparently
no exception.
        'The
victim's female, probably in her late teens or early twenties, judging by her
clothes. 'Wainwright had lowered his face mask now he'd moved away from the
grave. His mouth quirked in amusement. 'Dr Hunter thought she might be a
transsexual but I think we can discount that.'
        I
looked at him in surprise. Simms gave a dismissive sniff.
        'Quite.'
        'You
can see her injuries for yourself,' Wainwright boomed, all business now.
'Probably caused by either a clubbing weapon or someone with prodigious
strength.'
        'A
little early to say, I think?' Pirie commented from beside the grave.
        'Yes,
of course. That's for the post-mortem to decide, 'Wainwright corrected himself smoothly.
'As for how long it's been here, if I was pushed I'd say less than two years.'
        'You're
sure?' Simms asked sharply
        Wainwright
spread his hands. 'It's only a guess at this stage, but given the peat
conditions and the level of decomp I'm fairly confident.'
        I
stared at him, unable to believe I'd heard right. Simms nodded in satisfaction.
'So this could be one of Monk's victims, then?'
        'Oh,
I'd say that was a distinct possibility. In fact if I had to hazard another
guess I'd say this filly could well be the Williams girl. The femur's far too
short to belong to anyone as tall as the Bennett twins, but if memory serves
she was, oh, five three, five four? That'd be about right. And the injuries
certainly point to Monk after what he did to Angela Carter.'
         Carson.
Angela Carson, not Carter. But I was too angry to speak: Wainwright was
shamelessly stealing credit for what I'd told him. Yet I couldn't object
without seeming petty. Pirie looked up from his position by the grave.
        'Hardly
enough to provide an ID, surely.'
        Wainwright
gave a self-deprecating shrug. 'Call it an educated guess. At the very least I
think it's worth seeing if this is the Williams girl first.'
        He
raised his eyebrows at Simms. The policeman looked energized as he slapped his
hand against his thigh. 'I agree. Dr Pirie, how soon will you be able to
confirm if it's Tina Williams?'
        'That
all depends on the condition of the remains once they're cleaned.' The
diminutive pathologist looked up at me. 'It'll be faster if Dr Hunter works
with me? I expect skeletal trauma is more his field than mine?'
        He
had an odd, sing-song cadence. I managed a nod, furious and stunned by what
Wainwright had done.
        'Whatever
you need.' Simms no longer seemed to be listening. 'The sooner we can announce
who this is the better. And if Monk buried one of his victims here it's
reasonable to assume the others aren't far away. Excellent work, Leonard, thank
you. Give my regards to