‘Well, yes. What I mean is probably not. They’re almost certainly old. But we won’t know for sure until we get the radio carbon dates.’

‘Given recent events at Bailsgrove, Mrs Hills, shouldn’t the police be informed about this?’

Clare’s jaw stiffened. She almost spat the words out at him. ‘We’re professionals, Mr Jackson. They have been.’

‘And you can confirm that Gloucestershire constabulary have allowed you to continue excavating at a potential murder scene?’

Clare said, ‘For your information they were perfectly fine with it. Even if you’re not.’ She ripped the microphone from her T-shirt and flung it at Ben Jackson’s feet. ‘Now if you’ve got what you came for, Mr Jackson, will you kindly leave my site.’

‘Christ on a bike, Clare! What on earth possessed you?’

David was standing behind his desk in the archaeology department. The moment he’d finished watching the piece about the dig on the late-night news he’d picked up the phone to Clare, demanding to see both her and Jo first thing in the morning in his office in Salisbury. Last night’s debacle had been bad enough, but this morning fanned out on his desk in front of him were a host of tabloid newspapers all featuring Bailsgrove. The top one sporting the unforgettable headline, ‘Death Rate Soars at Hart Unit’s Bailsgrove Horror Dig’.

He plucked one from further down in the pile. ‘Do you want me to read them to you? Just so you can understand what your fifteen minutes of fame has cost us. Here we go. Have a listen to this!

‘“Death has revisited the ill-starred Bailsgrove dig site. Recent scene of the grisly suicide of Druidic specialist Dr Beth Kinsella, Bailsgrove has now become the scene of another bizarre pagan ritual, with local Druid and ex-biker Wayne ‘Crabby’ Crabbs performing rituals over what the archaeologist in charge of the excavations, Clare Hills, maintains may be modern baby burials. When asked about the burials, DCI Mark Stone of Gloucestershire constabulary refused to comment.”’

Clare held up a hand. ‘Please, David. I know what they say. You don’t need to labour the point.’

He slapped the paper down in front of her. ‘Oh, but I think I do, Clare. You’re the one who insisted we take this job. If you recall our conversation at the time I was less than convinced. But I let you talk me into it because we were desperate for the money. As you so correctly pointed out, without the money from Bailsgrove the Hart Unit is finished. So you of all people should understand the consequences of what you’ve done.’

Jo, who up until that point had been perching precariously on a pile of boxes in the corner of the office, stood up. ‘Hey, come on, David, cut Clare some slack! It wasn’t all her fault.’