The Dead of Midwinter by J.R. Sinclair

Author:J.R. Sinclair [Sinclair, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

With a leather binder under her arm, Megan and Joseph headed through the exhibition floor of the Oxford Natural History Museum. Columns rose around them like tree trunks to support the vaulted cathedral-like glass roof. It had often reminded the DI of the grandeur of a Victorian era railway station, but considerably cleaner without the diesel fumes to pollute the pale stone work. A soft diffused light made even the greyest of days seem brighter within the museum.

They made their way between the display cabinets filled with stuffed animals and information panels, passing what Ellie had insisted when she was a young girl was a woolly mammoth, refusing to believe it was actually an Indian elephant.

‘This is quite something,’ Megan said, taking in the magnificent architecture.

‘You’ve not visited before?’ Joseph asked.

‘First visit, but I’ll definitely be back based on what I’ve seen already.’

‘You should, but wait until we get to the next gallery.’ Joseph gestured towards the big double doors ahead of them. In contrast to the bright space they were currently walking through, the area they could glimpse beyond looked like a dark cavern. ‘That’s the Pitt Rivers Museum through there, filled with mysteries and wonders of bygone eras.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Oh, I most certainly do,’ he replied.

As they entered through the doors, a woman with tightly curled ringlets and a broad smile at least six feet wide, approached them with a clipboard. He couldn’t help noticing that she, along with her female colleague, had angled herself so that they would be funnelled past the voluntary contribution box for the museum on their way down the steps. Not that Joseph ever put anything in the box, although without fail he felt a pang of guilt every time he walked past pretending he hadn’t noticed it.

‘Hi, would you like an information sheet?’ the woman with Helen written on her name tag asked.

‘No, we’re actually looking for Aaron Fearnley,’ he replied. ‘We have a meeting with him.’

‘And you are?’ the woman asked, her eyes narrowed.

‘DI Joseph Stone and DC Megan Anderson from the St Aldates Police Station,’ he said.

A smirk flashed across Helen’s face for a moment before she suppressed it. Then her eyes lingered on Megan, looking her up and down.

What was that all about? Joseph thought to himself.

Helen’s attention returned to him. ‘You’ll find Aaron working on the witchcraft display towards the rear of the lower gallery.’

‘Can you tell us what he looks like?’

‘Like George Clooney, but slightly hotter,’ Helen said.

‘Really?’ Megan asked.

Helen raised her eyebrows. ‘Very easy on the eye, as you’ll see for yourself in a moment. Anyway, you can’t miss him. He’s wearing one of his trademark silk waistcoats today.’

‘Okay, thank you for your help,’ the DI said, ushering Megan away.

The detectives headed down the steps into a labyrinth of dark wood display cabinets filled with an astonishing selection of objects, from model temples to pots of every design and shape. But as this was Megan’s first visit, Joseph deliberately took her straight towards a particular cabinet and paused before it.

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