Read Online A Room Full of Bones: A Ruth Galloway Investigation by Elly Griffiths - Free Book Online
Authors: Elly Griffiths
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you still got the letter?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll look.’ Smith gets up and starts to search in a steel filing cabinet. What is it filed under, wonders Nelson. N for Nutter? I for Ignore?
‘Here it is.’ Smith puts a single sheet of paper in front of Nelson.
This letter looks very different from the missives found in Neil Topham’s desk. It’s typewritten for one thing and is on actual headed notepaper, with a logo that seems to represent the moon above a meandering river.
Dear Lord Smith,
We are writing on behalf of the Elginists, a group dedicated to the repatriation of sacred artefacts. It has come to our attention that your museum currently holds four Indigenous Australian skulls which have been forcibly removed from their ancestral ground. As you may know, it is an important tenet of Indigenous Australian belief that the remains of the ancestors should be returned to Mother Earth so that they may enter the Dreaming and so complete the cycle of nature. We respectfully request that you return these skulls, which were unlawfully removed and which, therefore, can only bring bad fortune to you and your family. Be warned that the Great Snake will have its revenge.
Please contact us at the above address to arrange repatriation.
There is no signature just ‘The Elginist Council.’
Nelson looks at Smith. ‘Did you reply?’
‘No.’ Smith looks haughty. ‘I wouldn’t dignify it witha response. If you ignore these sorts of people, they go away. I’ve learnt that over the years.’
‘And did they go away?’
‘I assumed so. They didn’t approach me again.’
‘Did you know that Neil Topham had received these letters?’
‘No.’ Smith looks genuinely shocked but there’s something else there too, thinks Nelson. Anger? Fear? ‘I’m surprised Neil didn’t tell me,’ he says now. ‘We spoke every week. I felt that we had a good working relationship. I trusted him.’
‘When you last spoke to him Neil didn’t seem disturbed? Worried?’
‘No. We talked about Bishop Augustine. He was really excited about having the bishop’s relics at the museum.’
Nelson looks back at the letter. On the face of it, there’s nothing too alarming in it, except maybe the mention of ‘bad fortune’ to the Smith family. But Nelson’s eye is drawn to two things: the logo, which he now perceives to be a snake slithering under the moon, and the words,
the Great Snake will have its revenge.
And he thinks of the room with the coffin and the open window and the single glass case containing the stuffed body of a snake.
CHAPTER 6
Ruth drives to work on Monday feeling that several hurdles have been overcome. Kate’s birthday party (she knows she shouldn’t think of this as a hurdle, but still) went off OK and the new neighbour didn’t turn out to be a trendy sushi-lover or a weird seaweed collector. True, he had looked a little weird at first with his hair in a sort of sumo-wrestler knot and his feet, despite the weather, in leather flip-flops. And the name! She’d had to ask him to repeat it.
‘Bob Woonunga.’ He had grinned, showing very white teeth in a dark brown face.
‘Oh. That’s … unusual.’
‘It’s an Indigenous Australian name,’ he had explained. They were sitting in Ruth’s kitchen by this time, drinking tea. Kate was still asleep on the sofa.
‘Safe in dreamland,’ Bob had said. ‘Don’t wake her.’
Indigenous Australian? Did that mean Aborigine? Were you allowed to say Aborigine anymore? Ruth had settled for: ‘You’re a long way from home.’
‘I’m a bit of a wanderer,’ Bob smiled. He had an Aussieaccent which, Ruth realised, was one of the things that made her trust him. Why? Because of
Neighbours
and other warm-hearted Antipodean soap operas? Ruth doesn’t like to admit it but it’s probably true. As a student she had been addicted to
Neighbours
. And now she has a real-life Australian for a neighbour.
She had wanted to ask more about Mr Woonunga’s
‘I don’t know. I’ll look.’ Smith gets up and starts to search in a steel filing cabinet. What is it filed under, wonders Nelson. N for Nutter? I for Ignore?
‘Here it is.’ Smith puts a single sheet of paper in front of Nelson.
This letter looks very different from the missives found in Neil Topham’s desk. It’s typewritten for one thing and is on actual headed notepaper, with a logo that seems to represent the moon above a meandering river.
Dear Lord Smith,
We are writing on behalf of the Elginists, a group dedicated to the repatriation of sacred artefacts. It has come to our attention that your museum currently holds four Indigenous Australian skulls which have been forcibly removed from their ancestral ground. As you may know, it is an important tenet of Indigenous Australian belief that the remains of the ancestors should be returned to Mother Earth so that they may enter the Dreaming and so complete the cycle of nature. We respectfully request that you return these skulls, which were unlawfully removed and which, therefore, can only bring bad fortune to you and your family. Be warned that the Great Snake will have its revenge.
Please contact us at the above address to arrange repatriation.
There is no signature just ‘The Elginist Council.’
Nelson looks at Smith. ‘Did you reply?’
‘No.’ Smith looks haughty. ‘I wouldn’t dignify it witha response. If you ignore these sorts of people, they go away. I’ve learnt that over the years.’
‘And did they go away?’
‘I assumed so. They didn’t approach me again.’
‘Did you know that Neil Topham had received these letters?’
‘No.’ Smith looks genuinely shocked but there’s something else there too, thinks Nelson. Anger? Fear? ‘I’m surprised Neil didn’t tell me,’ he says now. ‘We spoke every week. I felt that we had a good working relationship. I trusted him.’
‘When you last spoke to him Neil didn’t seem disturbed? Worried?’
‘No. We talked about Bishop Augustine. He was really excited about having the bishop’s relics at the museum.’
Nelson looks back at the letter. On the face of it, there’s nothing too alarming in it, except maybe the mention of ‘bad fortune’ to the Smith family. But Nelson’s eye is drawn to two things: the logo, which he now perceives to be a snake slithering under the moon, and the words,
the Great Snake will have its revenge.
And he thinks of the room with the coffin and the open window and the single glass case containing the stuffed body of a snake.
CHAPTER 6
Ruth drives to work on Monday feeling that several hurdles have been overcome. Kate’s birthday party (she knows she shouldn’t think of this as a hurdle, but still) went off OK and the new neighbour didn’t turn out to be a trendy sushi-lover or a weird seaweed collector. True, he had looked a little weird at first with his hair in a sort of sumo-wrestler knot and his feet, despite the weather, in leather flip-flops. And the name! She’d had to ask him to repeat it.
‘Bob Woonunga.’ He had grinned, showing very white teeth in a dark brown face.
‘Oh. That’s … unusual.’
‘It’s an Indigenous Australian name,’ he had explained. They were sitting in Ruth’s kitchen by this time, drinking tea. Kate was still asleep on the sofa.
‘Safe in dreamland,’ Bob had said. ‘Don’t wake her.’
Indigenous Australian? Did that mean Aborigine? Were you allowed to say Aborigine anymore? Ruth had settled for: ‘You’re a long way from home.’
‘I’m a bit of a wanderer,’ Bob smiled. He had an Aussieaccent which, Ruth realised, was one of the things that made her trust him. Why? Because of
Neighbours
and other warm-hearted Antipodean soap operas? Ruth doesn’t like to admit it but it’s probably true. As a student she had been addicted to
Neighbours
. And now she has a real-life Australian for a neighbour.
She had wanted to ask more about Mr Woonunga’s
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