Ruth Galloway by Elly Griffiths

a drunken party. The first message had indeed been from Shona, Happy New Year. I h8 Liam . The second had been from Erik but the third, intriguingly, had declared itself ‘caller unknown’. Pressing READ Ruth had at first wondered who HN could be. It was not until she had read the fourth message that it had come to her. Harry Nelson. Detective Chief Inspector Harry Nelson. Ringing to wish her a Happy New Year. What did it all mean?
    The fourth message had been from Peter.
    â€˜It’s over there,’ says Nelson, pointing.
    Ruth sees a decrepit caravan parked right at the top of the beach. It is surrounded by upturned fishing boats and is partly covered by a tarpaulin. In fact, it almost looks like another boat apart from the fact that it is painted purple and has a lightning rod attached to the roof.
    Ruth looks quizzically at Nelson.
    Nelson shrugs. ‘Perhaps he’s afraid of lightning.’
    Or he wants to attract it, thinks Ruth.
    They plod across the stony beach, Ruth’s boots holding up better than Nelson’s brogues. Two fishermen sitting on the harbour wall look at them curiously. As they reach the caravan, Nelson raises his hand to knock on the door but it is opened before he can connect. A figure wearing a longpurple cloak and carrying a staff stands outlined in the doorway.
    Cathbad. Ruth’s first thought is that he hasn’t changed much in ten years. Then, his hair had been long and dark, sometimes tied back in a ponytail, sometimes hanging loose about his shoulders. Now it is shorter and streaked with grey. He has grown a beard which, strangely, remains jet black, so that it looks rather like a disguise, as if it is attached with elastic around the ears. His eyes are dark too and suspicious now as he watches them. Ruth remembers him as nervous, edgy, always likely to explode in either rage or laughter. Now he seems calmer, more in control. Ruth notices, though, that the hand gripping the staff is white around the knuckles.
    â€˜Michael Malone?’ Nelson greets him formally.
    â€˜Cathbad.’
    â€˜Mr Malone, also known as Cathbad, I’m Detective Chief Inspector Nelson from Norfolk Police. Can we come in?’ As an afterthought, he adds. ‘And this is Doctor Ruth Galloway from North Norfolk University.’
    Cathbad turns his dark gaze on Ruth.
    â€˜I know you,’ he says slowly.
    â€˜We met at a dig,’ says Ruth, ‘on the Saltmarsh, ten years ago.’
    â€˜I remember,’ says Cathbad slowly. ‘You were with a man. A red-headed man.’
    To her annoyance Ruth finds herself blushing. She is sure Nelson is looking at her.
    â€˜Yes,’ she says, ‘I was.’
    â€˜Can we come in?’ asks Nelson again.
    Silently, Cathbad stands aside to let them into the caravan.
    Inside, the first sensation is of being in a tent. Midnight blue draperies hang from the ceiling and cover every piece of furniture. Ruth can just make out a bunk bed with cupboards under it, a cooker, covered with rust and food stains, a wooden bench seat and a table, this time covered with billowing red material. The blue drapes give a strangely dreamlike feeling, as do the twenty or so dream-catchers twinkling gently from the ceiling. The air is thick and musty. Ruth sees Nelson sniffing hopefully but she doesn’t think it is cannabis. Joss sticks, more likely.
    Cathbad gestures them towards the bench before seating himself in a high-backed wizard’s chair. First point to him, thinks Ruth.
    â€˜Mr Malone,’ says Nelson. ‘We’re investigating a murder and we’d like to ask you a few questions.’
    Cathbad looks at them calmly. ‘You’re very abrupt,’ he says, ‘are you a Scorpio?’
    Nelson ignores him. From his pocket he pulls out a photograph and puts it on the table in front of Cathbad. ‘Do you recognise this girl?’ he asks.
    Ruth looks curiously at the picture. She has never seen a picture of