She strode right up to the edge of the cliff and stood there, hair blown back from her face by the wind. He joined her, and together they stared silently out into the
majesty of the Atlantic Ocean. The waves seemed to form momentary mountain ranges, grey and bleak and topped with white. It was only the sizeof the gulls that rode the waves that gave away their
true size.
Niamh turned her head and stared at him boldly. He returned her stare, not sure what message he was sending but aware that messages were being exchanged.
Niamh opened her mouth to speak, but Sherlock’s attention had been snagged by something that he saw sticking out from a bush just the other side of her.
It was a foot.A bare foot.
‘Stop a minute,’ he said.
‘What is it?’
Sherlock gestured at the foot. ‘I think,’ he said grimly, ‘we need to get someone from the castle.’
Niamh took one look at the foot sticking out from the shrubbery, nodded, and ran back towards the castle as fast as she could. Sherlock moved closer to the shrubbery and carefully pushed back
the leaves.
A body was lyingbeneath the bush. It was one of the castle servants. She was on her back, staring upward at the sky, and her face was twisted into an expression of pure terror. Sherlock checked
her wrist and her neck for a pulse, but there was nothing. Her skin was cold, and her eyes had a thin coating of dust and pollen on them. She was undoubtedly dead.
This wasn’t the first time that Sherlock had seena dead body, but the sight still made him uneasy. He was amazed at how thin the line was between life and death, and how easy it was to
cross. He thought he recognized the girl as well: she was the servant who had dropped the plates and run out of the dining room during breakfast. So quick then, and so still now.
Without touching the body, Sherlock made a visual examination. There was nosign of blood, no obvious trauma. She looked as if she had suddenly fallen down and died on the spot.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind, and he quietened his thoughts to let it come forward. It had something to do with what he had first seen. He stepped back, and let his eyes move
over the body, from the top of the head to the soles of the feet, trying to work out exactly whatit was that was bothering him.
The feet! That was it! She wasn’t wearing shoes!
He heard Niamh returning from the castle, accompanied by others. He turned as they arrived. Silman was there, as were several of the house servants. They saw the girl on the ground and gasped,
blessing themselves.
Silman bent to check the girl’s pulse, as Sherlock had done. She straightened up, shakingher head. ‘The poor girl. She must have had some kind of seizure, God rest her soul. I could
tell that there was something wrong this morning, at breakfast. Perhaps her heart was weak.’
‘Perhaps it was the sight of the Dark Beast that drove her mad and killed her,’ someone whispered. Silman turned to glare at them. ‘Fetch sheets. We’ll wrap her body up
and take her back to the castle.Someone go for the priest. The doctor is already on his way on other business. He’ll need to examine her, and sign a certificate of death. If he finds traces
of disease then he might well quarantine the castle, which would be awkward for the master.’ She turned to Sherlock and Niamh. ‘Mistress, young master – I’m sorry you had to
see this. Thank you for alerting us. I will tell Sir Shadrach, andwe will make all the necessary arrangements. There is nothing else you can do here – I suggest you go on with whatever it
was you were doing when you found her.’
Niamh nodded. ‘Thank you, Silman,’ she said soberly. ‘Please let me know if there is anything that we can do.’ She paused. ‘Did she have family?’
‘Not in this area. I believe she had a mother and a brother down near Cork. Iwill write to them.’ She sighed. ‘Such a tragedy, when young people die for no reason.’
Niamh was obviously
majesty of the Atlantic Ocean. The waves seemed to form momentary mountain ranges, grey and bleak and topped with white. It was only the sizeof the gulls that rode the waves that gave away their
true size.
Niamh turned her head and stared at him boldly. He returned her stare, not sure what message he was sending but aware that messages were being exchanged.
Niamh opened her mouth to speak, but Sherlock’s attention had been snagged by something that he saw sticking out from a bush just the other side of her.
It was a foot.A bare foot.
‘Stop a minute,’ he said.
‘What is it?’
Sherlock gestured at the foot. ‘I think,’ he said grimly, ‘we need to get someone from the castle.’
Niamh took one look at the foot sticking out from the shrubbery, nodded, and ran back towards the castle as fast as she could. Sherlock moved closer to the shrubbery and carefully pushed back
the leaves.
A body was lyingbeneath the bush. It was one of the castle servants. She was on her back, staring upward at the sky, and her face was twisted into an expression of pure terror. Sherlock checked
her wrist and her neck for a pulse, but there was nothing. Her skin was cold, and her eyes had a thin coating of dust and pollen on them. She was undoubtedly dead.
This wasn’t the first time that Sherlock had seena dead body, but the sight still made him uneasy. He was amazed at how thin the line was between life and death, and how easy it was to
cross. He thought he recognized the girl as well: she was the servant who had dropped the plates and run out of the dining room during breakfast. So quick then, and so still now.
Without touching the body, Sherlock made a visual examination. There was nosign of blood, no obvious trauma. She looked as if she had suddenly fallen down and died on the spot.
Something was nagging at the back of his mind, and he quietened his thoughts to let it come forward. It had something to do with what he had first seen. He stepped back, and let his eyes move
over the body, from the top of the head to the soles of the feet, trying to work out exactly whatit was that was bothering him.
The feet! That was it! She wasn’t wearing shoes!
He heard Niamh returning from the castle, accompanied by others. He turned as they arrived. Silman was there, as were several of the house servants. They saw the girl on the ground and gasped,
blessing themselves.
Silman bent to check the girl’s pulse, as Sherlock had done. She straightened up, shakingher head. ‘The poor girl. She must have had some kind of seizure, God rest her soul. I could
tell that there was something wrong this morning, at breakfast. Perhaps her heart was weak.’
‘Perhaps it was the sight of the Dark Beast that drove her mad and killed her,’ someone whispered. Silman turned to glare at them. ‘Fetch sheets. We’ll wrap her body up
and take her back to the castle.Someone go for the priest. The doctor is already on his way on other business. He’ll need to examine her, and sign a certificate of death. If he finds traces
of disease then he might well quarantine the castle, which would be awkward for the master.’ She turned to Sherlock and Niamh. ‘Mistress, young master – I’m sorry you had to
see this. Thank you for alerting us. I will tell Sir Shadrach, andwe will make all the necessary arrangements. There is nothing else you can do here – I suggest you go on with whatever it
was you were doing when you found her.’
Niamh nodded. ‘Thank you, Silman,’ she said soberly. ‘Please let me know if there is anything that we can do.’ She paused. ‘Did she have family?’
‘Not in this area. I believe she had a mother and a brother down near Cork. Iwill write to them.’ She sighed. ‘Such a tragedy, when young people die for no reason.’
Niamh was obviously
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