Beastly Bones (8 page)

Chapter Sixteen

W
e left our luggage at Brisbee's and followed the farmer around the back of the farmhouse. The old man walked with a slow, steady gait, his eyes on the ground. He was a fine and pleasant host, but there was an incompleteness to him that made my heart ache.

“How did you come upon the fossils, Mr. Brisbee?” I asked him. “The article didn't say.”

Brisbee blinked and looked up as if awoken from a distant dream. “Right, let me see now . . .” He smiled congenially and put one hand across Jackaby's shoulders and the other over mine, ushering us up into the bumpy foothills. “I found the first one, but it really wasn't anything. It was a week or so ago. I was just clearing ground for a new crop, hitting rocks every few feet. My plow ran into something big, so I hooked up a couple of horses, gave it a pull, and—
BAM!
There it was. I didn't know what I was looking at. Except that it was a single bone as long as one of my cows.”

“A femur,” Owen Horner said from just behind us. “And you've got a sharp eye, sir. It doesn't take a scientist to make history, just a keen and clever mind like yours.” The shadows clouding Brisbee's eyes lifted just a little. Horner continued. “Don't think for a moment you haven't played the most important part in this excavation. The renowned Gideon Mantell started this whole dinosaur-discovery business, but it was his wife who found the first bones of the mighty Iguanadon.”

“That is a lovely story,” I said, “but it's not really true.”

“I think you'll find that it is, miss. Over on your side of the pond, in fact. Essex, I think.”

“Sussex,” I corrected automatically. “Sorry. Mantell admitted the fib about thirty years later. As it happens, my father worked with his son, Walter—it was one of his first jobs, helping with the Moa remains in New Zealand.”

I hazarded a glance backward, expecting the usual grimace of annoyance. My mother had often reminded me that men hated to be outdone by a lady.

But Owen Horner was grinning broadly, visibly impressed. “Your father, Miss Rook? Wait—Rook? You're not related to Daniel Rook, are you?”

“Who's that, now?” Brisbee asked.

“Only one of the finest minds in the field. I studied his paper on plesiosaurs when I was at university.” Horner and Brisbee both looked to me to confirm or deny the relation.

“That's my father,” I admitted. “You're no slouch yourself, though, Mr. Horner. I understand you made quite a name for yourself in . . . Colorado, was it? I know I've read something about you in the journals.”

“South Dakota most recently,” he said, “but neither site holds a candle to what we're digging up here.”

“This is marvelous!” Hugo Brisbee tightened his grip around my shoulders, beginning to sound genuinely excited. “We've got Owen Horner, the up-and-coming prodigy, and now we've got the daughter of the famous Daniel Rook, and by tomorrow I'll be meeting Lamb, too! That settles it. I'm sending word to that reporter right away—I bet we could land a picture on the front page of the
Chronicle
. Maddie would be so proud.”

“Wait a moment—Lamb, as in Lewis Lamb?” I asked.

“That's right,” Brisbee confirmed happily. Horner nodded without enthusiasm.

“Horner and Lamb . . .
,
”
I said. “Now I remember what I read about you last! Oh good heavens. And you knew that Lamb was involved?”

Horner cringed but nodded again.

“Fantastic bit of luck, isn't it?” said Brisbee. “Lamb was the first one to get back to me about the bones. I promised him the site, so I guess he will technically be in charge when he gets here. I'm sure he'll be happy about the fine work Owen's been up to already, though.”

“It's some kind of luck,” I said, “but I wouldn't call it fantastic.” I stopped in my tracks and faced Horner. Brisbee's hand slid off my shoulders, and Charlie and Jackaby turned to face us.
Now
the charming young scientist looked uncomfortable. “Owen Horner and Lewis Lamb have been at each other's throats for years!” I told Brisbee. “It's become international news—slander, sabotage, and all manner of skulduggery.”

“I've never . . . ,” Horner interjected.

“They've destroyed irreplaceable fossil evidence . . .”

“Technically, I only . . .”

“They even stooped to hurling rocks at each other across a quarry!”

“That was just the once,” Horner admitted, “and their guys started it.”

“You
knew
that this site had been promised to Mr. Lamb?” I asked.

“Well . . . yes. But you have to understand, Lamb is on the decline. He left the Institute of Sciences in shame. I, on the other hand, have just been offered the prestigious—”

“But science shouldn't be a competition!”

“Right! I couldn't agree with you more.” Horner held up his hands in a show of defense. “The battle of the bones is over. That's why I'm here. No funny business. Just science. I've set up perimeters and gotten the dig site prepared. I've even made some solid progress—with Mr. Brisbee's invaluable help, of course. This is still Brisbee property, so I suppose the
final
decision on who takes the lead is still up to him—but I promise I can play nice however it pans out—especially now that I know what we're digging up. This site is like nothing I have ever worked on. The bones haven't spread at all, and I've found almost no fragmentation. It's unreal.” Horner's defensive posturing melted away as genuine enthusiasm took hold. “We uncovered a portion of the rib cage during our preliminary work yesterday, and just this morning I've unearthed most of the midsection.”

“You've done all that since yesterday?”

“That's precisely what I mean! I've never been a part of an excavation that went this smoothly. The terrain is marvelously amenable, and the bones are impeccable. Wait until you see it! I haven't even told you the most exciting bit!”

“What's the most exciting bit?”

“Wait and see!” If Horner had been trying to distract me from the Lewis Lamb powder keg, then he had succeeded — for the moment. My excitement and curiosity got the better of me, and I hurried up the rocky slope after the scientist.

I had spent months on my first and only real dig in the Ukraine, sifting through rocks on a fruitless search. If even a fraction of Horner's story was true . . . The ground began to level out, and ahead of us I could see where the soil had been churned. It was like seeing a sunrise for the first time. I glanced back eagerly at my employer, and my thudding heart sank. Jackaby had stopped some twenty feet behind us, his fingers gently testing the air around him. His attention began to drift away from the foothills and toward the bushy forest to his left.
You wouldn't
, I thought.
No, not now. You wouldn't do this to me.

“Sir?” I managed as politely as humanly possible. “I'm sure you will want to see the site. It's only just ahead.”

“Have you noticed anything in this general area during your excavation, Mr. Horner?” Jackaby asked. He turned on his heel and walked a few steps toward the greenery, his eyes dancing around the underbrush. “Something . . . tenebrous, perhaps? A dissolute anathema, of sorts?” He squinted, focusing hard.

“A dissolute what?” Horner looked back to where Jackaby was standing, and then glanced nervously at Brisbee. “Oh, Detective, wait. Maybe it's best if you don't—”

“That's where I found her,” Brisbee interjected. His gaze was locked on the rocky terrain a few feet down the slope from where Jackaby was standing. Nobody spoke for several seconds, the wind having been knocked very suddenly out of the journey. “The doctor told her she shouldn't go out.” The farmer's voice strained. “But my Maddie never liked being told what to do.”

“Mr. Brisbee, I am so sorry,” I said. My throat felt tight.

“And you saw nothing to indicate there had been an attack?” Jackaby asked.

“Sir!” I said.

Brisbee shook his head. “It's all right, young lady. I've been through all this with your man, Barker. My Maddie was a pistol. I should have known she wouldn't stay cooped up with everything going on. This place was never big enough to keep her satisfied. It was her idea to expand in the first place.” He wiped his eyes. “I should've brought her up here, myself, so she could see it before . . .”

Charlie put a hand on the man's shoulder. Brisbee took a deep breath and continued. “It didn't look like an attack, Detective. She looked . . . peaceful. It was the fever that did her in—and the rocks.”

Jackaby exchanged a somber glance with Charlie. Charlie's face was grim, and I could tell he was uncomfortable omitting the detail of the victim's mysterious bruise, but he kept to Marlowe's command and remained silent. Brisbee did not seem to notice the unspoken exchange. His eyes were wet, and he stood transfixed, staring at the rocky hill.

“And where are her remains interred?” Jackaby asked.

“Mr. Jackaby,” I whispered, appalled.

“I should like to pay my respects before we proceed,” Jackaby said.

“That's kind of you,” Brisbee said hoarsely, “but we laid her to rest out behind Saint Izzy's.”

“Saint Izzy's?”

“Saint Isidore's. She used to sing in the choir on Sundays. It's got a beautiful churchyard. It's all the way back up in Gadston proper, though, and you've only just arrived.”

“I feel it would be of great value to my process to visit Saint Isidore's first. Come along, Miss Rook!” Jackaby began picking his way back across the uneven terrain.

Respect to the late Mrs. Brisbee notwithstanding, I still found it difficult to ignore the fact that there was a dinosaur waiting not twenty feet up the hill, and we were about to walk away. “That's very thoughtful, sir,” I said. “But are you sure it wouldn't be better to begin our work on the site?” I prompted. “We are right here, after all, and we have the light. Perhaps we could visit the church in the morning?”

“I think this takes precedence, don't you? I'm sure we'll all be able to approach the case with clearer heads once we've taken a moment to honor the deceased.”

I opened my mouth as Jackaby clambered back down the sloping hill, but words failed me.

“Mr. Jackaby,” came Charlie's soft voice, “it might be more efficient to divide your efforts. As Miss Rook is most qualified to examine the fossils, perhaps it would be best to leave her behind to perform a preliminary sweep of the crime scene while you pay your respects with Mr. Brisbee. I would be happy to remain behind as Miss Rook's escort, if you like.”

I nodded emphatically, still unable to vocalize my thoughts, and pointed at Charlie to indicate my firm agreement.

“The notion is not entirely without merit,” Jackaby said. “All right. Make thorough records, Miss Rook. We shall compare notes upon our return.”

I withdrew my notepad and held it up meaningfully. The farmer looked out of sorts, but he nodded and stepped back toward the path. “Do you mind giving this young lady the tour without me?” he called up the hill.

Owen Horner gave me a charming smile. “I should like nothing more.”

“Well, okay, then,” Brisbee said. “I guess we'll see you folks this afternoon.” With that, the farmer led Jackaby back down toward the farmhouse. “Say, weren't you in the papers yourself, a few weeks back?” he was saying as they departed. “Something about an honest-to-goodness werewolf?”

“That article was painfully inaccurate,” Jackaby said, his voice fading as they wound down the hill.

“Shall we?” Owen Horner gestured grandly when they had gone, inviting us toward the rough, dusty plateau. I had seen successful excavations in the past, but only in the pages of my father's field journals or as lithographs in a textbook. The scene that spread before me could not possibly have been confined within a printed page.

The entire Brisbee farmhouse could have fit easily into the wide grid the paleontologist had established atop the hill. The ground was uneven. To one side it had been broken roughly in thick, haphazard rows. I could see where the farmer's efforts to till the earth had ended and the methodical scientist's work had begun. Wooden marker spikes had been pounded into the soil along a perimeter of a few hundred feet, and a simple brown twine had been tied along them to define the site. Outside the string border sat piles of rocks and dirt. Within the boundary, the loose debris had been cleared away, and the first layers of soil had been removed. Peeking out from the red-brown earth were the bones of an impossible colossus.

Most of the prehistoric creature remained beneath the dirt, but a faint, incomplete outline had been revealed, and the figure it described nearly filled the site. Half a rib cage had been dusted clean, and several feet of vertebrae as thick as my waist curved above the surface before the earth swallowed them up again. Twenty feet away, a wide lower jaw with nasty-looking sharp teeth had been unburied. If the visible bones were an accurate indication, the entire specimen was taller than a house and just waiting to be exhumed.

My eyes could not grow wide enough to take it all in. My whole body tingled. This was completely unlike my only previous personal experience, a miserable expedition I had attended in the mountains of the Ukraine. All of those frozen months had yielded a handful of scattered bones—all of which had later been confirmed to come from common mammals. This was . . .

“Impossible,” I breathed.

“Isn't it?” Horner's voice was hushed and close to my ear. I felt the gentle pressure of a hand on my lower back, and he held his other in front of me. “Let me show you.”

I accepted the hand out of courtesy, and he escorted me down the uneven terrain toward the beastly bones. I peeked back to be sure that Charlie was coming, too. He was keeping just a few paces behind, although his attention seemed to be more focused on the scientist than the astounding discovery. The ground leveled out, and Horner stepped away to fetch a pair of gloves from a pile of tools.