Read The Calling of the Grave for Free Online

psychological aspect, yes, but it's a little broader than that. I advise on
offenders' characteristics and motivations, but I also look at strategies for
interviewing suspects, assess crime scenes, things like that.'
        'How
come I didn't see you at the grave today?'
        'Sore
point. I didn't hear about it until this afternoon, so I'll have to make do
with photographs. Not ideal, but that wasn't really why I was brought in.'
'Oh?'
        She
hesitated. 'Well, I don't suppose it's a secret. They asked me here because if
this is one of Monk's victims the others might be buried nearby. They want me
to advise on the most likely places the graves could be. That's sort of a
speciality of mine, finding where things are hidden. Especially bodies.'
        'How
do you do that?' I was intrigued. There had been a number of technological
advances to help locate buried bodies in recent years: everything from aerial
photography to geophysics and thermal imaging. But grave location was still a
hit and miss affair, especially on a place like Dartmoor. And I wasn't sure how
a behavioural specialist could help anyway.
        'Oh,
there are ways,' she said, vaguely. 'Anyway, now you know what a BIA does. Your
turn.'
        I gave
her a potted outline of what my work involved, breaking off when the landlord
arrived with the food. He set the plate down in front of me hard enough to slop
the gravy on to the table. At least I hoped it was gravy: the greasy brown
liquid could have been anything.
        Sophie
and I considered the mess of over-boiled vegetables and grey meat. 'So you
decided against the smoked salmon and fois gras,' she said after a moment.
        'It's
the perks that make the work worthwhile,' I said, trying to spear a disintegrating
carrot on my fork. 'So where are you from?'
        'Bristol,
but I live in London these days. I used to come on holidays around here when I
was a girl, though, so I know Dartmoor quite well. I love the openness. I'd
like to move out here some day, but with work . . . Well, you know how it is.
Perhaps if I ever get tired of being a BIA.'
        'I'm
reserving judgement on Dartmoor, but I know Bristol a little. It's nice country
round there. My wife's from Bath.'
        'Oh,
right.'
        We
smiled at each other, knowing that parameters had been drawn. Now we'd
established I was married we could relax without worrying about putting out any
wrong signals.
        Sophie
was good company, sharp and funny. She talked about her home and her plans for
the future; I told her about Kara and Alice. We both spoke about our work,
although the subject of the current investigation was avoided. It was an
ongoing case, and neither of us was about to give away too much to a virtual
stranger.
        But
when I looked across the room and saw Terry and Roper heading towards me I knew
that was about to change. Terry looked startled when he saw the two of us at
the table. His expression became guarded as they approached.
        'Didn't
realize you two knew each other,' he said. Roper hung back just behind him.
        Sophie
gave Terry a smile that seemed to have an edge to it. 'We do now. David's been
telling me what he does. It's really fascinating.'
        'Is
it,' Terry said, flatly.
        'Do
you want to join us?' I asked, made uncomfortable by the sudden atmosphere.
        'No,
we won't interrupt. Just came over to give you the news.' He spoke over his
shoulder to Roper. 'Get the beers in, Bob.'
        Roper
blinked but hid any displeasure he felt at being ordered around. A trace of aftershave
lingered behind him as he went to the bar.
        'News?'
I said.
        Terry
addressed me as though Sophie wasn't there. 'You know this morning when I told
you I'd got to go somewhere? Well, I went to Dartmoor prison to see Jerome
Monk.'
        That
explained Terry's secrecy earlier: no wonder he'd seemed keyed up. But Sophie
jumped in before I could ask