Elly Griffiths - The Crossing Places

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The Crossing Places: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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When she's not digging up bones or other ancient objects, quirky, tart-tongued archaeologist Ruth Galloway lives happily alone in a remote area called Saltmarsh near Norfolk, land that was sacred to its Iron Age inhabitants – not quite earth, not quite sea.
When a child's bones are found on a desolate beach nearby, Detective Chief Inspector Harry Nelson calls Galloway for help. Nelson thinks he has found the remains of Lucy Downey, a little girl who went missing ten years ago. Since her disappearance he has been receiving bizarre letters about her, letters with references to ritual and sacrifice.
The bones actually turn out to be two thousand years old, but Ruth is soon drawn into the Lucy Downey case and into the mind of the letter writer, who seems to have both archaeological knowledge and eerie psychic powers. Then another child goes missing and the hunt is on to find her. As the letter writer moves closer and the windswept Norfolk landscape exerts its power, Ruth finds herself in completely new territory – and in serious danger.
THE CROSSING PLACES marks the beginning of a captivating new crime series featuring an irresistible heroine.

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'Who?'

'Michael Malone. You know, the one they questioned about Scarlet's murder.'

'Jesus! Where did you see him?'

'Here. He came to talk to me.'

'Bloody hell, Ruth.' Shona shivers. 'I'd have been terrified.'

'Why?'

asks Ruth, even though she had been so scared that she had slept last night with a kitchen knife by her bed. 'He wasn't charged with the murder, you know.'

"I know, but even so. What did he want?'

'Said he wanted me to clear his name.'

'What a cheek.'

'Yes, I suppose so,' says Ruth, who has been obscurely flattered.

'What's he like, this Cathbad?'

Ruth looks at her. 'Don't you remember him? He remembers you.'

What?' Shona has taken out her combs and shaken out her hair. She stares at Ruth, apparently bewildered.

'Don't you remember him from the henge dig? He was the leader of the druids. Always wore this big, purple cloak.

He remembers you were sympathetic to them, joined in the protests.'

Shona smiles. 'Cathbad… Now I remember. Well, he was quite a gentle soul as I recall.'

'Erik says he has magic powers.'

Now Shona laughs aloud. 'Dear old Erik.'

'Cathbad says you had an affair with Erik.'

'What?'

'Cathbad. He says you and Erik had an affair on the henge dig, ten years ago.'

'Cathbad! What does he know?'

'Did you?'

Instead of answering, Shona twists her hair into a tight knot and puts the combs back in, their little teeth digging viciously into her skull. She doesn't look at Ruth, but Ruth knows the answer now.

'How could you do it, Shona?' she asks. 'What about Magda?'

She is shocked at the virulence with which Shona turns on her.

'What do you care about Magda, all of a sudden? You don't know anything about it, sitting there, judging me. What about you and Peter? He's married now, didn't you know?'

'Peter and I aren't…' stammers Ruth. 'We're just friends,' she finishes lamely. Inside, though, she knows that Shona is right. She is a hypocrite. What did she care about Michelle when she invited Nelson into her bed?

'Oh yeah?' sneers Shona. 'You think you're so perfect, Ruth, so above all those human feelings like love and hate and loneliness. Well, it's not as simple as that. I was in love with Erik,' she adds, in a slightly different tone.

'Were you?'

Shona flares up again. 'Yes, I bloody well was! You remember what he was like. I'd never met anyone like him.

I thought he was so wise, so charismatic, I would have done anything for him. When he told me that he was in love with me, it was the most wonderful moment of my life.'

'He told you that he was in love with you?'

'Yes! Does that surprise you? Did you think he had the perfect marriage with Magda? Jesus, Ruth, they both have affairs all the time. Did you know about Magda's toyboy, back home in Sweden?'

"I don't believe you.'

'Ruth, you're such an innocent! Magda has a twentyyear-old lover called Lars. He fixes her sauna and then hops into bed with her. And he's one of many. In return, Erik does what he likes.'

To rid her mind of the image of Magda with her twentyyear-old handyman lover, Ruth turns to the window. The Saltmarsh has almost disappeared beneath the slanting, grey rain.

'Did you think I was the first?' asks Shona bitterly.

'There are graduate students all over England who can say they went to bed with the great Erik Anderssen. It's almost an essential part of your education.'

But not of my education, thinks Ruth. Erik treated me as a friend, a colleague, a promising student. He never once said a single word that could be construed as a sexual invitation.

'If

you knew he was like that,' she asks at last, 'why did you go to bed with him?'

Shona sighs. All the anger seems to seep out of her, leaving her limp, like her silver jacket lying collapsed on the floor.

"I thought I was different, of course. Like all the other silly little cows, I thought I was the one he really loved. He said he'd never felt like that before, he said he'd leave Magda, that we'd get married, have children…' She stops, biting her lip.

And then Ruth remembers Shona's first abortion, just a few months after the henge dig.

'The baby…' she begins.

'Was Erik's,' says Shona wearily. 'Yes. I think it was then that I realised he didn't mean any of it. When I told him I was pregnant, he just went mad, started pressuring me to have an abortion. Do you know, I actually thought he'd be pleased.'

Ruth says nothing. She thinks of Erik talking about his grown-up children: 'You have to set them free.' Well, he hadn't wanted this one set free. As a fervent believer in a woman's right to choose, Ruth doesn't condemn Shona for having an abortion. But she does condemn Erik for his deceit, his hypocrisy, his…

'Poor Ruth,' says Shona, looking at her with a strange, dispassionate smile. 'All this is worse for you. You always admired him so much.'

'Yes,' says Ruth hoarsely. 'Yes I did.'

'He's still a great archaeologist,' says Shona. 'I'm still friends with him. And with Magda,' she adds with a slight laugh. "I guess it's just the way he is.'

'I guess so,' says Ruth tightly.

Shona rises, picking up her silver jacket. At the door she turns. 'Don't blame either of us too much, Ruth,' she says.

When Shona has gone, Ruth sits down at the table. She is amazed to find that she is shaking. What is so surprising about finding out that two grown-up people have had an affair? Alright, Erik was married, but these things happen as she knows all too well. Why does she feel let down, angry, betrayed?

She supposes that she must really have been in love with Erik all these years. She remembers when she first met him, as a graduate student in Southampton, the way that he seemed to take her mind apart, shuffle it and put it back together a different shape. He changed her view of everything: archaeology, landscape, nature, art, relationships.

She remembers him saying, 'The human desire is to live, to cheat death, to live forever. It is the same over all the ages.

It is why we build monuments to death so that they live on after we d ie. ' Did Erik's desire to live simply mean that he could do whatever he wanted?

And when she met Magda she had been so pleased. She had thought nobody could be good enough for Erik but Magda was. She had loved their relationship, that affectionate companionship, so different from her parents'

stilted formality. She could never imagine Erik and Magda calling each other Mummy and Daddy or driving to a garden centre on a Sunday afternoon. They lived the perfect life, climbing mountains, sailing, spending the winters writing and researching and the summers digging.

She remembers the log cabin by the lake in Norway, the meals eaten on the deck, the hot tub, the evenings eating, drinking and talking. Talking. That's what she remembers most about Erik and Magda. They had always talked, argued sometimes, but always they had listened to each other's views. Ruth remembers many times listening to Erik and Magda as, glasses of wine in their hands and the Northern lights shining above them, they had fitted their differing theories together so that they came up with something new, better, more complete. Not for them the moment described by Peter: 'We just ran out of things to say to each other.'

Ruth is not stupid. She knows that she created idealised parents in Magda and Erik and that is why she feels so let down now. And if she was also secretly in love with Erik, well that just makes a perfect Freudian hole-in-one. What upsets her most, she thinks, looking out over the rain sodden marshland, is that she had thought she was special.

Even if Erik had not fancied her, he had thought her an especially talented student. On the henge dig he had continually deferred to her. 'Ruth will understand this even if the rest of you don't' implied that he and she shared a special understanding. Ruth, he had said, had 'an archaeologist's sense', a quality which, apparently, cannot be taught. Erik's approval has carried Ruth through many difficult years, insulated her against Phil's patronising indifference, comforted her when she never quite seemed able to get that book proposal down on paper.

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