Read Online The Ghost Fields by Elly Griffiths - Free Book Online Page A

by the trees.’
    Â 
    When the interview is over, Ruth escapes to a trench. She doesn’t want to face Phil, who is sure that he should be the one in front of the cameras. Well, she agrees with him in a way. Phil is good-looking and charming; he should be a natural for TV. But, as with
Women Who Kill
two years ago, the director of
Archaeology Matters
seems to prefer Ruth. Maybe it’s because she’s
not
good-looking and charming. ‘A natural,’ one reviewer said, ‘a straightforward academic.’ For ‘straightforward’, Ruth had thought at the time, read ‘not glamorous’. But she had been secretly pleased all the same.
    Now she busies herself trowelling and sifting. This is proper archaeology, not the glamorous stuff. Digs can take weeks and there’s never any guarantee that anything of significance will be found. These days TV shows want exciting finds in twenty-four hours, preferably accompanied by arc lights. She trowels in a pleasant trance.
    â€˜Well, here’s the TV star herself hiding in a trench.’
    A pair of expensive wellingtons has stopped in front of her. Looking up, she sees skinny jeans, a quilted jacket and a flash of Pre-Raphaelite red hair. Shona.
    â€˜Can I help?’ Shona is saying.
    Ruth’s previous experience of Shona on digs tempts her to say no. She knows that Shona’s initial keenness will soon wane and that she will gravitate, as if drawn by a siren call, towards the nearest cappuccino. Shona’s coffee breaks have been known to take several weeks. Nevertheless she is fond of Shona, who has been her closest friend for many years, so she says, ‘Of course,’ and moves up.
    But before Shona can lower her Hunters into the mud, a voice says, ‘Excuse me?’
    The voice is male so Shona twirls round on auto-charm.
    â€˜I’m from the DNA project,’ says the voice. Ruth sees that it belongs to someone wearing trainers and faded jeans. Hunters and trainers move away but Ruth can hear Trainers saying, ‘You see, red hair is a recessive gene and I noticed your lovely hair and I thought . . .’
    Shona laughs and Ruth can imagine the lovely hair being tossed around. She climbs out of the trench.
    â€˜Are you going to do the DNA test?’ she says. ‘I’ll come too. My back’s aching.’
    â€˜Super,’ says the man in trainers, though he doesn’t mention Ruth’s hair.
    The DNA testing of the locals is taking place in a trailer which has been parked at the edge of the field. As they draw nearer, Ruth sees a second vehicle beside it, a dirty white Mercedes. Standing by the car, deep in conversation, are three men: Nelson, Clough and another member of the team, Tim Heathfield. Tim transferred from Blackpool CID two years ago, after working with Nelson on a case involvinghis old colleagues. He’s handsome, intelligent and probably good-natured. All the same, Ruth is wary of him. There is something closed about Tim, something secretive. Ruth is secretive herself so she distrusts it in others.
    Shona, on the other hand, seems positively excited. ‘Oh, it’s Nelson. Wonder why he’s here. And who’s that with him? The good-looking black guy? He’s not your usual Norfolk policeman. Hi, Nelson!’
    Nelson looks up and smiles briefly. He’s not Shona’s biggest fan. But he leaves his two sergeants and comes towards them.
    â€˜Hi, Ruth. Hallo, Shona. Ruth, I wanted to catch you.’
    â€˜Oh yes?’ says Ruth, wishing Shona would leave them alone. She hates herself for wondering whether her hair is a mess. Knowing that she might be on television she had actually put on some make-up that morning but she is pretty sure that it has vanished now (how do women like Shona keep make-up on all day?). Surreptitiously she tries to comb out the worst tangles with her fingers.
    Nelson hardly looks at her anyway. He has his police face on, frowning,