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 long purple 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.
‘Michael Malone?’ Nelson greets him formally.
‘Cathbad.’
‘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.
“I know you,’ he says slowly.
‘We met at a dig,’ says Ruth, ‘on the Saltmarsh, ten years ago.’
“I remember,’ says Cathbad slowly. ‘You were with a man. A redheaded man.’
To her annoyance Ruth finds herself blushing. She is sure Nelson is looking at her.
‘Yes,’ she says, “I was.’
‘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.
‘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 Lucy Downey and is struck by the resemblance to Scarlet Henderson. The same dark, curling hair, the same smiling mouth. Only the clothes are different. Lucy Downey is wearing a grey school uniform. Scarlet, in the picture Ruth saw, had been wearing a fairy dress.
‘No,’ says Cathbad shortly. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘This little girl vanished ten years ago,’ says Nelson, ‘when you and your mates were getting all worked up about that henge thing. I wondered if you’d seen her.’
Unexpectedly, Cathbad is angry. Ruth remembers his ability to change emotions in a second. Now, his face dark in the blue light, he looks like his younger self.
‘That henge thing,’ he says in a voice shaking with rage, ‘was a holy site, a place dedicated to worship and sacrifice. And Doctor Galloway’s friends proceeded
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 long purple 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.
‘Michael Malone?’ Nelson greets him formally.
‘Cathbad.’
‘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.
“I know you,’ he says slowly.
‘We met at a dig,’ says Ruth, ‘on the Saltmarsh, ten years ago.’
“I remember,’ says Cathbad slowly. ‘You were with a man. A redheaded man.’
To her annoyance Ruth finds herself blushing. She is sure Nelson is looking at her.
‘Yes,’ she says, “I was.’
‘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.
‘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 Lucy Downey and is struck by the resemblance to Scarlet Henderson. The same dark, curling hair, the same smiling mouth. Only the clothes are different. Lucy Downey is wearing a grey school uniform. Scarlet, in the picture Ruth saw, had been wearing a fairy dress.
‘No,’ says Cathbad shortly. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘This little girl vanished ten years ago,’ says Nelson, ‘when you and your mates were getting all worked up about that henge thing. I wondered if you’d seen her.’
Unexpectedly, Cathbad is angry. Ruth remembers his ability to change emotions in a second. Now, his face dark in the blue light, he looks like his younger self.
‘That henge thing,’ he says in a voice shaking with rage, ‘was a holy site, a place dedicated to worship and sacrifice. And Doctor Galloway’s friends proceeded
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