Read Online The Darkness of Bones by Sam Millar - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sam Millar
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young librarian behind the desk in the main library at Royal Avenue. A gaggle of people sat in chairs reading the morning newspapers, killing time, relaxing, waiting for buses to take them and their cargoes of groceries home.
“Bones? Any particular type?” asked the librarian. “Dinosaurs, you mean? We’ve got quite a few books about—”
“Here, love,” said an old man, squeezing between Adrian and the desk, interrupting. The man appeared anxious. He handed the librarian this morning’s
Irish News
. “Just to let you know, someone—not me—ripped out the coupon for the free loaf. Bloody disgrace. Left a big hole, right in the local news. Wasn’t me. Just letting you know, in case someone borrows this and thinks I did it. I don’t want to be fined for something I didn’t—
wouldn’t
—do. I come here every Tuesday. You know me. Would I do something like that?”
The librarian smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make a note of it. We’ll try and get another one.”
Returning the smile, the old man left the remnants of the newspaper on the desk before scuttling away with his bag of meagre groceries.
Adrian glanced at the butchered newspaper. Just above where the coupon had mysteriously disappeared was the partial photo of a young girl. Her left arm had been cut off—along with parts of her dress—by the coupon thief.
“Sorry about that,” said the librarian, her attention back on Adrian. “Old people work themselves into such a lather over nothing. He takes that coupon every Tuesday, but we never say a thing about it. Now, what was it you were looking for? Bones, right? Dinosaurs, wasn’t it?”
“Human.”
“Human?
Hmm
. Let me see …” She hit a few buttons on the computer. The screen blinked. “We’ve
Forensic Anthropology for Beginners.
That sounds like a great title, doesn’t it? Would you like me to see if we have it in stock, or check some other titles?”
“No, that’s perfect. Just let me know if you have a copy,” replied Adrian angling the newspaper slightly, getting a better view of the words.
The girl had gone missing, over three years ago
…
“You’re in luck,” said the librarian. “We’ve a copy on the second floor. Its reference number is 237TH.”
Adrian felt his head start to throb as his eyes traced down along the little girl’s right arm, down to the item attached to her hand. A doll, its features weirdly life-like, stared at him from the paper. The doll’s face made him feel uncomfortable, but it was the eyes that shot into his stomach. They resembled fat bluebottle flies.
Chapter Fifteen
“A certain fox, it is said, wanted to become a wolf. Ah! who can say why no wolf has ever craved the life of a sheep?”
Jean de la Fontaine,
Fables
, Book 7
“ T HE POLICE VISITED the shop yesterday morning. They asked Joe questions about that missing little girl.”
Judith sat in the darkness in the corner of the room, barely visible. Jeremiah wondered if she had heard him or if she was in one of her semi-trances.
He cleared his throat.
“The police—”
“I heard you the first time.”
Jeremiah shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “He said that they’d be back, to ask me some questions.”
Easing herself up from the chair, Judith walked to where Jeremiah was seated. The wind outside was gathering pace, strengthening itself for an attack against the house.
“Why so worried? Are you not more intelligent than simple police officers? Their weakness is their belief in themselves, their system. But we know that is false; as false as the gods you once worshipped. Isn’t that correct?” She rested her hand on his head, an anointment of her testimony.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I don’t hear you.”
“Yes. You’re right—as always.” Jeremiah’s voice was shaky and weak, a stark contrast to Judith’s.
“I detect doubt in your voice.” The skin between her eyebrows creased into a small, angry “v”. She pressed her hands more firmly
“Bones? Any particular type?” asked the librarian. “Dinosaurs, you mean? We’ve got quite a few books about—”
“Here, love,” said an old man, squeezing between Adrian and the desk, interrupting. The man appeared anxious. He handed the librarian this morning’s
Irish News
. “Just to let you know, someone—not me—ripped out the coupon for the free loaf. Bloody disgrace. Left a big hole, right in the local news. Wasn’t me. Just letting you know, in case someone borrows this and thinks I did it. I don’t want to be fined for something I didn’t—
wouldn’t
—do. I come here every Tuesday. You know me. Would I do something like that?”
The librarian smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make a note of it. We’ll try and get another one.”
Returning the smile, the old man left the remnants of the newspaper on the desk before scuttling away with his bag of meagre groceries.
Adrian glanced at the butchered newspaper. Just above where the coupon had mysteriously disappeared was the partial photo of a young girl. Her left arm had been cut off—along with parts of her dress—by the coupon thief.
“Sorry about that,” said the librarian, her attention back on Adrian. “Old people work themselves into such a lather over nothing. He takes that coupon every Tuesday, but we never say a thing about it. Now, what was it you were looking for? Bones, right? Dinosaurs, wasn’t it?”
“Human.”
“Human?
Hmm
. Let me see …” She hit a few buttons on the computer. The screen blinked. “We’ve
Forensic Anthropology for Beginners.
That sounds like a great title, doesn’t it? Would you like me to see if we have it in stock, or check some other titles?”
“No, that’s perfect. Just let me know if you have a copy,” replied Adrian angling the newspaper slightly, getting a better view of the words.
The girl had gone missing, over three years ago
…
“You’re in luck,” said the librarian. “We’ve a copy on the second floor. Its reference number is 237TH.”
Adrian felt his head start to throb as his eyes traced down along the little girl’s right arm, down to the item attached to her hand. A doll, its features weirdly life-like, stared at him from the paper. The doll’s face made him feel uncomfortable, but it was the eyes that shot into his stomach. They resembled fat bluebottle flies.
Chapter Fifteen
“A certain fox, it is said, wanted to become a wolf. Ah! who can say why no wolf has ever craved the life of a sheep?”
Jean de la Fontaine,
Fables
, Book 7
“ T HE POLICE VISITED the shop yesterday morning. They asked Joe questions about that missing little girl.”
Judith sat in the darkness in the corner of the room, barely visible. Jeremiah wondered if she had heard him or if she was in one of her semi-trances.
He cleared his throat.
“The police—”
“I heard you the first time.”
Jeremiah shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “He said that they’d be back, to ask me some questions.”
Easing herself up from the chair, Judith walked to where Jeremiah was seated. The wind outside was gathering pace, strengthening itself for an attack against the house.
“Why so worried? Are you not more intelligent than simple police officers? Their weakness is their belief in themselves, their system. But we know that is false; as false as the gods you once worshipped. Isn’t that correct?” She rested her hand on his head, an anointment of her testimony.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I don’t hear you.”
“Yes. You’re right—as always.” Jeremiah’s voice was shaky and weak, a stark contrast to Judith’s.
“I detect doubt in your voice.” The skin between her eyebrows creased into a small, angry “v”. She pressed her hands more firmly
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