Condemned R.C. Bridgestock (good fiction books to read TXT) 📖

house and down into the cellar. She saw the look on Mike Blake’s face, and his mischievous eye caught hers. ‘Don’t you dare!’ they said, as she felt the corners of her mouth twitch, and a chuckle catch in her throat.

With protective suits on to protect both the scene and their clothing, the group stood quietly, allowing each other to visualise the skeleton that lay before them behind the wall, amongst the dusty debris in the cellar. The additional lighting that had been brought in flooded the area, making it much easier to see the burial site in more detail. Towards the outside wall which was next to where the skeleton lay, tree roots clung together to form one giant mass, reaching out eerily towards the bones.

Davis secured his size four shoes on the third step of his ladder. He pulled two rubber gloves from a box that Ricky-Lee offered him, and blew them up like a balloon to enable him to put them on more easily.

‘Fascinating Inspector, absolutely fascinating,’ he muttered, his eyes remaining focused on the scene as he adjusted the volume of his recording device.

That may be, thought Charley to herself, but as I have the remains of two bodies in this house, just tell me how they died, and better still, who killed them.

The professor appeared to be in his element. Humming away, he picked a few white stones from several that lay scattered on top of the skeleton. ‘Pure quartz,’ he said, with glee.

‘Believed to ease the passage to the afterlife,’ said Charley.

‘I believe you’re right,’ said Davis with a hint of admiration in his tone. ‘You are well read,’ he declared. His eyes remained on the quartz that he was placing in an evidence bag.

‘My granny’s family were Irish, apparently they were used by her forefathers for burials.’ Charley paused, her expression turning thoughtful. ‘Funny how the brain retains little nuggets of information to recall years later.’

With featherlight strokes Davis carefully brushed the skull back and forth, until the soft bristles snagged. Charley found herself holding her breath, closely watching the goings-on in the illuminated search area.

‘This skeleton has age to it,’ Davis said, as he tentatively fiddled in the debris to shift the obstruction.

DS Mike Blake flicked his eyelids at Charley. She knew what he was thinking. Don’t all skeletons have some age to them?

‘Seems to be some evidence of cloth, possibly remnants of a shroud?’ Davis said, confirming Charley’s earlier suspicions. Gently, he eased a stone from between the skeleton’s jaw. Ricky-Lee held open an exhibits bag for him to place the stone in, sealed it tight and commenced to write upon a label. ‘In the past they believed that putting something in between the jaws would stop the dead from chewing through the shroud,’ he said. Annie looked intrigued.

Davis made a show of checking for vampire fangs, in a light-hearted way. He drew back and mopped his brow with his forearm. ‘There is still potential for it to rise at some point.’

Charley’s impatience to get on with the investigation was now also felt by Annie. ‘The only time it will rise is when you’ve finished and we lift it out of there,’ she whispered. Annie’s voice grew louder and she emitted a gasp. ‘You actually think it could be a vampire, Professor?’

‘I think, whoever buried her – it’s a woman by the way, I can tell that from the size of her pelvic bone – thought she needed to be pinned down to stop her from rising again.’

‘What makes you think that?’ said Charley.

Davis measured the length of the skeleton, and he asked for further photographs to be taken by Neal in his role as CSI before he continued, ‘See this iron rod through her shoulder blade?’ Annie nodded eagerly. ‘That shows me that whoever buried her believed she had the capabilities to leave her grave, and terrorise the living. This pagan custom spread throughout European countries, and the practice was continued as far as the early 1900s.’ Davis paused. ‘They must have thought this person was a terrible threat as she also has spikes through her ankles,’ he said, pointing to her feet. ‘A bit over the top even for a pagan burial I admit, but they believed they could prevent the deceased from rising up and attacking the locals.’

‘Or, maybe the person who killed her?’ mumbled Annie. He raised his eyebrows. ‘Maybe… I’ve read plenty about this type of burial, but I believe there have been only a few found in the UK.’

‘You said, “over the top”,’ said Charley. ‘Is there something else?’

Davis pointed to the rib cage. ‘See this?’ The professor lifted a disc shaped, pendant carefully in his gloved hand from the corpse. ‘It’s a pagan pentacle necklace.’ He brushed the necklace carefully, as he spoke. His eyes were quickly averted. ‘Now,’ he said, peering further into the cavity. He pointed a straight finger, as he raised an eyebrow at Charley. ‘That is very interesting. Do you see what I see? A bone-handled dagger, which suggests to me it was a ritual killing.’

‘Makes a difference from it being from a knife taken from the kitchen block, the cause of many a domestic murder these days,’ Mike Blake commented.

‘She has two broken ribs, clearly visible, perhaps they were caused by the force used when she was stabbed. Closer inspection at the lab will confirm.’

‘How old do you think the skeleton is?’ asked Charley.

‘If you pressed me, I’d make a guess at around seventy to a hundred years, but we’ll do some carbon dating, and that’ll tell me how accurate I am.’

Annie whistled through her teeth.

‘Remember that skeletons are not only the remnant of a life once lived, they are also a lasting blueprint of that life. She has wisdom teeth, so we can confirm that she was over eighteen years of age. Looking at her skull and bone development, I’d make a guess that she was not much older when she died. What I’m seeing suggests to me