Holy Blood Page 6

  ‘Ready,’ Lisa said, her eyes bright.

  ‘OK, Lisa, what can you tell us about this skeleton?’ Lewis prompted.

  Lisa looked straight into the camera. ‘It’s the skeleton of a male, full grown but not yet showing signs of age-related degenerative diseases like arthritis. I’d estimate an age of between twenty-five and forty-five. There’s considerable wear on the teeth, so I’d put the age at the further end of that.’

  ‘That’s wonderful!’ Lewis said. ‘Now, let’s do that again, and you pick up the bones and teeth and show us what you’re talking about. OK? And … action.’

  Lisa rattled through it again, picking up the bones as directed. Then Lewis asked her to do it again, this time explaining it all to Trev, who with his stubbly chin and beer belly, fitted Lewis’s template of an eccentric archaeologist. Trev bounced forwards, anxious to share the moment of fame. Aidan leaned against the wall at the back, completely side-lined in his own lab. Everything Lisa was saying was exactly what he’d told Lewis yesterday. Seemed you needed lipstick to be convincing these days.

  Lisa continued. ‘There are a number of healed wounds on the skeleton. Here, on the shoulder, and here, on the leg. I’d say these were caused by knives, but the injury on the shoulder is much more serious and was probably caused by an axe. The wounds have healed, though; you can see where new bone has grown. The wounds on the leg took some time to heal, and you can see from the pocking that an abscess formed.’ She gazed into the camera. ‘That would have been extremely painful.

  ‘What’s interesting is that three of his fingers are missing from his left hand. Some of the bones are missing from the skeleton, but that’s to be expected with a skeleton that’s been scattered – you often don’t get all the bones.’ She paused and pointed to the left hand. ‘But here, there are cut marks in the bones, indicating that these fingers were amputated, perhaps because they were damaged or diseased. Another possibility, looking at the other injuries on the bones, is that the fingers were cut off in a fight.’

  ‘How can you tell that?’ Trev asked, on cue.

  ‘For each amputation, there’s more than one cut mark on the bone,’ Lisa said, with relish. ‘That’s not unusual. There was no anaesthetic in the past so he would have been held down for the operation, and he probably wriggled about a bit.’

  ‘What else can you tell, Lisa?’ Trev asked.

  ‘The muscle attachments are deep, suggesting a well-built man, strong and muscular,’ Lisa said. ‘The right shoulder and arm muscles were larger than the left, so he was right handed. I’d say that these muscles were developed through hard physical work. Normally I’d say he might have been a blacksmith or a farm labourer, but coupled with the knife and axe wounds, and the amputated fingers, I’d guess that he was a soldier. It’s his sword arm that’s highly developed and strong.’

  ‘Wow!’ Lewis’s eyes shone. ‘And how did he die? Can you tell that?’

  Lisa’s lips quirked. ‘You don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to work out how he died.’ She held up the skull and turned it round to show the back. There was a deep depression in it. ‘Head injury to the back of the skull. You can see that the skull is indented here and there’s a fracture radiating from it.’

  ‘He fell and hit the back of his head?’ Lewis prompted.

  ‘No, it looks to me like it was caused by a blunt instrument.’ Lisa stared at the skull for a long moment for maximum effect before she pronounced, ‘Someone bashed his head in.’

  The lights were piercing, drilling straight through his skull. That and Lisa primping and pouting at the camera, and it wasn’t long before his head was throbbing. Aidan slid down the cool wall and rested his head against it, seeking relief. None to be found.

  ‘You alright?’ Eden whispered, beside him.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Headache.’

  ‘Want some painkillers?’

  He nodded. She rummaged in a side pocket of her bag and produced a foil strip and a bottle of water. He took them gratefully and gulped down a couple of paracetamol.

  ‘Keep them,’ she said, as he handed back the tablets. ‘You might need more later.’

  She knew him so well, had witnessed dozens of his headaches and more than a couple of migraines in their time together. She gave him a sympathetic smile and took a slug of water herself. He puffed out his cheeks and watched the pantomime play out.

  So much for being director of the Cultural Heritage Unit: he was completely redundant here. Even Trev was getting more of the action that he was. Trev, with his orotund Bristol accent and yokel appearance. He’d already addressed Lisa as ‘my lover’ twice on camera. He wondered if Lewis Jordan would keep that in.

  And Lisa was loving every minute. Being the centre of attention, that’s where Lisa was happiest. He remembered that year they were together as postgraduates in Cambridge. How he crawled with jealousy the whole time, watching Lisa flirting and ensnaring a troupe of worshippers. Now she was making a big deal of taking samples from the bones and teeth for isotopic analysis. That pert little grin as she wielded the drill and caught the bone shavings and tooth dust. He sighed again and reminded himself that Lewis’s mob was paying for all this analysis. Without it, they would have quietly boxed up the skeleton and filed it on a shelf to await burial.

  By three o’clock in the afternoon, they’d finished with the skeleton. Lewis called for the Holy Blood to be brought out and it was Mandy’s turn in the spotlight. She’d put on a new jumper this morning: pale blue and grey stripes, with a floral blouse peeking out at the collar and cuffs. No makeup, she addressed the camera bare-faced.

  This time, the initiate who had to be told about the object under examination was Lewis Jordan himself. Lewis prepared for his moment by extracting a bottle of eye drops from his jacket and placing drops in each eye in one smooth movement. He blinked a few times and checked his appearance in his phone, then took his place beside Mandy at the table and wriggled his fingers into a pair of white cotton handling gloves.

  Trev brought out the box containing the artefact and placed it reverently in front of them. Lewis peered into the box and grinned. ‘You know, Mandy, some people would pay a lot of money for a relic like this.’ His grin widened. ‘And I mean a lot of money.’

  Aidan knew that Mandy had spent the past months since they excavated the skeleton mugging up on Hailes and the Holy Blood, so he was annoyed on her behalf when she drew out the phial and Lewis’s opening question, clotted with emotion was, ‘So this is part of the Holy Grail?’

  Mandy faltered. ‘Er, this looks like the drawings we have of the relic known as the Holy Blood. It was brought to Hailes Abbey in the thirteenth century, and …’

  ‘So if this contains the blood of Christ, it’s linked to the Holy Grail, which gave people eternal life?’ Lewis persisted, taking the phial out of Mandy’s hands and holding it close to his face to gaze at it.

  Mandy shot a look at Aidan, her face flaming. He pushed himself forwards from the wall. Eden’s tablets had barely taken the edge off his headache.

  ‘Can we stop filming for a moment, please?’ Aidan said, planting his fists on the table. ‘What’s this about, Lewis? No one’s said anything about the Holy Grail. And in fact, all we can say about this find is that it seems to resemble the Holy Blood relic.’

  Lewis’s eyes gleamed. ‘But if we can link this to the Holy Grail, and King Arthur and Glastonbury, how much more powerful it would be.’

  He heard Lisa smother a laugh with a cough.

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lewis,’ he said, ‘but we’re scientists, here. We don’t go in for a lot of mumbo-jumbo, even if it does make for exciting TV. We’re here to examine the facts.’

  Mandy mouthed a silent thank you and he gave her a small smile of solidarity.

  ‘So, Lewis,’ Aidan continued, ‘how do you want to do this section? I suggest we let Mandy tell Trev all about the relic. She’s done a lot of research.’

  ‘What about Glastonbury, and the
Holy Grail?’ Lewis asked.

  Jocasta, the researcher, interrupted. ‘I’ve got a druid on standby to talk about that, Lewis,’ she said. ‘He’s a pencil for Friday.’

  ‘Good girl, Jo-Jo!’ All was well in Lewis-land again, and he agreed to let Mandy and Trev discuss the archaeology in their own way.

  ‘Forget about the camera,’ Aidan told them. ‘Just pretend it’s a normal day at work and you’re discussing a find. Just talk about it the way you usually would. OK?’

  ‘Thanks, Aidan,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Deep breath, Mandy,’ he said. ‘Look at Trev and tell him what your research has revealed.’

  Trev clapped Mandy on the shoulder. ‘Alright, Mands, let’s you and me have our moment of fame.’

  Aidan returned to his post by the wall and watched the filming. Trev and Mandy started out self-consciously, but soon got into the swing of it, batting questions back and forth, drawing out the facts about mediaeval pilgrimage and beliefs about relics.

  ‘The Holy Blood was removed from Hailes during the Dissolution of the Monasteries,’ Mandy said. ‘It was taken to London, where it was examined and declared a trick. It was duck’s blood coloured with saffron in the bottle. The abbot himself admitted that the blood was a fake – regularly topped up with animal blood and simply there for the pilgrims who paid to see it.’

  ‘And what happened to the Holy Blood?’ Trev asked.

  ‘It was destroyed,’ Mandy said, ‘thrown into the fires at Smithfield.’

  ‘So what do we have here?’

  ‘A good question, Trev. It looks like the images we have of the Holy Blood. We need to test the silver in the stopper to find out how old it is. If I hold this up to the light, you can see there’s a sediment in the bottle. That could simply be mud from where it’s lain buried for centuries, but until we test it, we don’t know for sure.’

  ‘What could that sediment be?’

  ‘Medicine, an infused oil, or perfume,’ said Mandy. ‘Until we test it, we won’t know. This is pure speculation.’

  Lewis clapped his hands. ‘And cut! Great job, Mandy and Trev, and leads us nicely into the next bit: testing the contents of that bottle. And for that, we need the doc.’

  Aidan jerked forwards, but it wasn’t him that Lewis meant. He wanted Lisa. Again. She sprang to attention, nodding eagerly as Lewis gave his instructions.

  ‘We’ll film you taking a sample from that bottle for analysis,’ Lewis said. ‘Just like we did with the isotope thing. Your hands, nice and steady, really professional. You do this every day of your life.’

  ‘I do, pretty much,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Great stuff.’ Lewis put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. ‘You look fabulous on camera.’

  ‘Thanks, Lewis.’

  The cameras crept forwards and the lights intensified as Lisa took up position with the phial, a narrow scalpel and a test tube. Carefully she unstoppered the bottle, peered inside, and slowly inserted the scalpel. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room, and Aidan heard his heart banging. They could be making history right now, testing a genuine relic from the Middle Ages. The thought frightened him, as childhood admonitions about faith and not questioning God’s will jostled with his training as a scientist.

  Lisa evidently had no such misgivings, scratching at the sediment then removing a few scrapings and dropping them into the test tube. She sealed it, wrote out the label and gazed into the camera. A collective sigh rippled across the room.

  ‘Done,’ she said. ‘We’ll send this off to the lab for analysis and see what they come up with.’

  Lewis clapped his hands. ‘That’s enough for today, peeps. We’ll check the footage tonight and reshoot tomorrow. Back here at eight o’clock.’

  ‘In the morning?’ Trev said, a horrified look on his face.

  Lewis took Lisa’s hand in his and kissed it. ‘You were magnificent,’ he said. ‘You look fantastic on camera. Born to it.’

  ‘Maybe we could talk later?’ she said, flashing her eyes.

  ‘Looking forward to it already.’ Lewis dropped her hand and snapped his fingers at Jocasta. She trotted over. ‘Jo-Jo,’ Lewis said, ‘take my laptop for me, there’s a good girl. I’m off to see a special lady.’

  The room was loud with bustle as the technical guys wound cables and packed up cameras, Mandy and Trev excitedly rehashed their TV fame, and Xanthe and Jocasta ran through the next day’s schedule. Eden gathered up her bag and jacket and mouthed ‘See you later’ to him, before hurrying out after Lewis. Aidan escaped to his office, glad to leave the circus behind and have a few minutes’ peace. He’d only just got there when there was a tap on the door, and before he could answer, Lisa swanned in. She was wearing a black sheath dress that showed off her petite figure, cream and black kitten heels, and had a cream jacket slung over her shoulder. Quite a transformation from the green scrubs she’d sported all day.

  ‘So, where are you taking me?’ she asked, leaning against the doorframe in a seductive pose.

  ‘You’re going back to Oxford, aren’t you?’

  ‘Hardly!’ she snorted. ‘I’m not battling my way down the A40 only to come back at the crack of dawn tomorrow.’

  ‘Where are you staying then?’

  ‘Lewis has paid for a hotel room for me. I need my beauty sleep.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘You’re supposed to disagree and say, “Lisa, a hundred years of sleep couldn’t make you more beautiful than you are”.’

  ‘Right.’

  She sighed. ‘So come on, let’s go for dinner.’

  ‘It’s too early.’

  ‘OK, drinks and then dinner. And then who knows, dancing until dawn.’

  ‘I thought you said you needed your beauty sleep,’ he said. ‘Besides, you’re seeing our esteemed producer, aren’t you?’

  ‘Jealous?’ she asked.

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘So come on then!’ she said, exasperated. ‘Two old friends can go for dinner, can’t they?’

  He knew she wouldn’t give up until she got her way. With a sigh, he switched off his computer and unhooked his coat from the back of the door. ‘I’ll just check that Mandy and Trev are OK to finish up here.’

  When he returned, Lisa had her jacket on and was waiting by the open front door. They set off on foot towards the High Street, past Marks & Spencer and the Regent Arcade to where the shops became smaller, huddled together.

  ‘You still like Thai food?’ Aidan asked.

  ‘Yes, love it.’

  ‘There’s a pub here that does a good Thai curry.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her face fell. ‘Not a Thai restaurant?’

  ‘It’s very good.’

  When they pushed through the swing door into the pub, he was pleased to see it was full of university students making the most of the early bird curry special. He’d calculated right. They found a table squashed in the middle of the pub, surrounded by braying undergraduates, and ordered at the bar.

  ‘You still seeing whatshername?’ Lisa asked, taking a sip of white wine.

  ‘Eden? Yes.’ Aidan had a glass of lime and soda. The headache was still pounding and alcohol was never a cure.

  Lisa gave a tinkling laugh that didn’t fool him for a minute. He knew that laugh – it presaged cunning and spite and was fuelled by Lisa’s wholehearted conviction that whatever she wanted, she would get.

  ‘Eden and Aidan. Aidan and Eden,’ Lisa chanted, her head cocked on one side. ‘Sweet. Like having names that rhyme.’

  ‘Yes, it’s lovely, isn’t it,’ he said, determined not to be goaded. There was a flyer on the table, advertising a student production of Measure for Measure. He took it and started folding it, making the edges sharp with his thumbnail, the straight lines and angles soothing his mind.

  Lisa didn’t answer, just studied him over the rim of her wine glass. ‘You thought any more about my proposition?’ she asked.

  His stomach lurched. Not this again. Months ago, suddenly working toget
her on a couple of skeletons that had been found during an excavation, Lisa had told him she wanted a baby. At thirty-five, with neither husband nor boyfriend, she’d chosen him to be the father.

  ‘Time is ticking on, Aidan,’ Lisa said. ‘And you haven’t even had the decency to give me an answer.’

  He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘That’s because it’s preposterous,’ he said, suddenly losing his temper. ‘I don’t see you for what, ten years? And then you show up and ask – no, demand – that I father a child with you. I mean, for God’s sake, Lisa.’

  ‘I haven’t got time to fanny around with romance, Aidan,’ she snapped.

  ‘Why me?’ he said. ‘There must be a dozen men in Oxford who’d happily knock you up.’

  His voice had grown too loud, and there was a sudden silence as the noise in the pub dropped away. He lowered his voice and hissed, ‘You could have a one night stand with anyone you liked and be pregnant by breakfast.’

  She twisted her lip. ‘Are you jealous?’

  ‘Of course I’m not jealous. We’re not together any more, Lisa. Remember?’

  She glanced down at her hands. A tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Pure crocodile. She didn’t bother to brush it away. In a small voice she said, ‘I want the best for my child. And to be honest, Aidan, I think I made a mistake. I think we made a mistake, splitting up.’

  ‘Jesus, Lisa,’ he breathed. ‘We went out when we were postgrads. It was over ten years ago. A lot of things have changed.’

  ‘I know.’ She looked at him fiercely. ‘I’ve changed. I’ve realised I shouldn’t have let you go.’

  Another tear. His hands slid across the table and held hers. She locked her fingers in his, and two more tears fell.

  His mobile rang. Releasing her hands, he hunted around in his coat pocket and found his phone. ‘Hello?’

  It was Trev, his voice squeaking as he panted out the problem.

  ‘Stay there, Trev, I’m on my way back. I’ll be about five minutes. Wait there for me.’