Page 35 of Disturbing the Dead
“Rope,” McCreadie says. “It looks like the same type, though Duncan will need to examine it. If it is, that suggests a crime of opportunity rather than intent. The killer did not bring rope with them. They used what was at hand.”
“So they were in here and either found the rope or a length was lying out in plain view,” I say. “Have we located the actual crime scene? Any blood on the floor?”
“There was not enough blood lost for that,” Gray says. “It really was little more than an abrasion. I do think I see another crime scene though, now that we are over here.”
He walks a few feet and bends.
“Ah,” McCreadie says. “I believe I may know what that is.” He takes the mummified finger from his pocket.
“Is that… a finger?” Gray says.
“A finger joint.”
“And Mallory accuses me of stuffing evidence in my pockets. At least I do not do that with body parts. I am surprised you are not worried about the stink it might leave.”
“I wrapped it in my handkerchief,” McCreadie says. “I brought it out because I believe it explains what you are looking at.”
I look where Gray is bending. There are bits of dark material that seem to be like ash or coal dust from here. Except there isn’t a fireplace in this room. I find a bit far enough away, and I try to bend, only to have the usual fashion issue. Gray rises and hands me the lantern.
I angle it as best I can while I squint down at the floor. I could fit several of the tiny bits on my nail, which means they are nearly impossible to see on the carpet.
“Do you have any—?” I begin, only to see Gray holding out a piece of paper.
“Thank you.”
He uses the paper to get a speck onto it and brings it up for me. I peer at it under the lantern light. McCreadie has evidently given Gray the finger, literally, and Gray silently holds it out. The skin is the same color. It’s leathery, but rough at the edges, where it looks almost exactly like this.
“So this is probably where the killer broke up the mummified body,” I say.
“I would say yes,” McCreadie calls over. “Considering what I see under this.”
I glance to see him bending by a display case. I shine the light under it and see a small brown object.
“Is that…?” I begin.
“Another finger? I believe it is.”
With some effort, I rise. “So the killer decides to break the body into smaller pieces. That isn’t easy. It’s desiccated, not carbonized. A finger flies under there. Another falls off in the tunnel. Helluva way to treat a dead body.”
“I have seen worse,” Gray says mildly.
“Same,” I say. “I’m just more offended because of how old it is. Someone dies over a thousand years ago, and their mortal remains are carted around like a sideshow exhibit and then broken like a stack of kindling. Of course, considering what the killer did to Sir Alastair, I suppose I can’t expect them to respect the dead.”
A rap at the door. I’m closest and push it open to see Isla, trying for a smile through obvious exhaustion.
“I know you are busy,” she says. “Miriam is with her brother now, and the children are with them, so there is little need for Annis or me to stay. She is going to drop me off at the house. Then she will send the coach back after it takes her home. Is there anything I can return with the coach? Tools you might need?”
I look at Gray, who shakes his head.
“Whatever we need to analyze, we can bring home with us,” he says. “Tell Annis not to bother with the coach. We will walk.”
Isla’s gaze slides up and down both of us.
“No, you will not,” McCreadie says. “You will accept Annis’s offer and hope she does not get a look at you before she leaves, or she might rescind it and make you walk.”
“Yes, yes. Mallory looks a fright. I was being polite and not mentioning it.”
“Me?” I say. “Would you like a mirror, sir?”
