THIRTY-TWO
Thirty-two
Lottie watched as Mike and Damian filmed a piece to camera for the documentary. They’d been filming ever since they started digging and had caught the moment they’d unearthed the first item from the grave.
At first, Lottie couldn’t tell what it was, despite the fact the others were clearly all excited. There was some painstakingly slow brushing away of dirt and delicate digging to be done, but eventually, the team uncovered the first fragments of bone and small pieces of fibre from the remains of clothing.
‘This is pretty exciting,’ Damian said calmly during one of the first interviews for the documentary. ‘We’d hoped to find something . We couldn’t even be sure it was a grave but now that we’ve glimpsed bone and other matter, we can move from what was in this hole to who is in there.’
‘Do you think we’ll be able to identify anyone?’ Mike asked.
‘We have bone that we can test for age, and it’s looking like we may have fabric of clothing. If we’re lucky, we may have enough to get it identified as well.’
Lottie watched on with pride swelling her heart. Damian was a natural. He spoke with an easy, unpretentious air that allowed the subject matter to sound interesting and alive.
‘Do we believe we know who this person is?’
‘That’s the exciting part. So far, everything we’re finding seems to be following the trajectory of a theory we have about Catherine Compton, the missing wife of Alexander Compton. And if this turns out to be true, then we’re dealing with a very different version of history than what we know at the moment. That’s always exciting as a historian, to find evidence that tells a different story.’
The team worked around the clock under massive spotlights and in cold temperatures. Lottie pitched in and helped out wherever she could, mainly delivering food and drinks from the campsite to the archaeologists and crew and doing her best to stay out of the way.
She could see Damian’s frustration with his injured ankle, making it difficult for him to move as he normally would, but he seemed to push through, albeit with a bit of a limp, to be in the thick of it anyway. They took small breaks to sleep and eat, but there was an underlying excitement that kept everyone focused and eager to get the grave excavated. The process was slow and meticulous, but, piece by piece, a body was being uncovered.
While Lottie was back in camp, helping to prepare dinner, she heard her name over the radio.
‘Lottie, you need to get up to the site,’ Claire, one of the film crew, announced. ‘Damian needs you.’
She dried her hands and grabbed her coat, her mind racing. Had he hurt himself again? Had his ankle gotten worse? Surely someone would have brought him back down to the camp if that was the case. By the time she’d reached the dig, she’d come up with a number of scenarios … none of which involved him greeting her with a beaming smile.
‘Check this out.’ He took her hand and led her closer. The earth had been removed all around the original gravesite, creating a terraced-type access point to where the bones had been uncovered. She nervously followed Damian down. This was the first time she’d been this close. The significance of the moment almost overwhelmed her.
‘Look,’ Damian said, squatting down and pointing to where one of the archaeologists worked, dusting away dirt from something in the earth.
Thanks to painstaking clearing away of debris, they’d uncovered a necklace, and while it wasn’t shiny—being still partially covered in dirt—it was definitely gold.
An image of the portraits Agatha had painted of Catherine flashed through her mind. Lottie tore her surprised gaze from the delicate line of gold in the ground and looked over at Damian. ‘It’s her,’ she said quietly. She saw his eyes crinkle in the corners as a gentle smile grew across his face.
‘It’s her,’ he said. ‘Although, technically, I’m not supposed to form any solid conclusions until we have all the facts in front of us.’
Lottie gave a small scoff. She didn’t need any more proof. Deep down, as soon as Damian had found the grave hidden up here in this isolated place, she’d known just as he had that this was Catherine.
Late one afternoon a few days later, Lottie found herself contemplating the isolated gravesite as she stared out at the rugged bushland surrounding the spot. She shivered as she took in the solemn work going on around her.
‘You look cold,’ Damian said, coming to stand behind her and wrapping her up tightly in his arms. ‘You don’t have to stay up here, you know. You should go home, where its warm and civilised.’
She didn’t have to turn her head to see the smile she knew he’d be wearing; she could hear it in his voice. ‘Are you kidding? And miss out on all of this?’
‘Are you okay?’ he asked after a few moments of enjoying the closeness and warmth of each other.
‘Yeah. I was just thinking about Catherine, and how lonely this place is.’
‘They certainly picked the right place to bury a body so no one would find it.’
‘Will she be able to be buried in the cemetery? Where Alexander is?’
‘There’s a long process to go through before we can think about all that. They’ll need to do some forensic work and figure out what really happened to her. It’ll be months before we have a whole work-up on her completed.’
Poor Catherine , Lottie thought sadly. When would she have some peace?
Damian stood by the excavated site and looked down into the hollow area where the grave had once been, now a widened pit to make excavation easier. The bones that lay there were similar to ones he’d seen in the past, yet these were different. This time, it was like looking down on someone he knew. Or what remained of that someone. He knew with every fibre of his being that this was Catherine, and the scientist in him couldn’t even bring itself to caution him; it knew it too.
The bones had fragments of woollen material draped across it, indicating someone had taken the time to wrap the body before placing it in the grave. He steeled himself against the clicking of a camera as the other archaeologists and the coroner photographed the site before the bones were removed. Even though they’d already been able to determine the bones were old and this was not a recent death, it had been decided that the coroner would take over possession of the remains in order to provide an inquest, which, although slightly frustrating in that they had to step back from the investigation, was also a good thing. The coroner would be able to provide a thorough examination but was happy to continue to work alongside the team as they had done the initial preparation and groundwork.
Damian watched as the forensic team carefully removed the bones, grateful that he and his team were still allowed to observe. Had this been a different type of investigation, a more recent death, there was no way the police would allow anyone else to be on site, but this was different.
When the process had finally finished, he watched them pack up and leave. He felt … empty. So much had happened and although he’d had plenty of time to process it in the days that had passed, it still hadn’t really hit him how momentous this whole thing really was. He’d come here to try to find a few more clues to figure out what happened to Catherine, and here he was, months later, watching her being taken away in boxes—carefully packed boxes, but still, boxes.
He didn’t have all the answers yet; they had a lot more work to do. He still didn’t feel like Catherine was at peace and, more than anything, he wanted to give her that.