IAN RANKIN was born in Fife in 1960. His first Rebus novel was published in 1987, and the Rebus books are now translated into thirty-one languages. He is the recipient of four Crime Writers’ Association Dagger Awards and in 2004 won America’s celebrated Edgar Award, for Resurrection Men. He has also presented a TV series, Ian Rankin’s Evil Thoughts. He lives in Edinburgh, with his partner and two sons.
Of his Ox-Tale, Ian Rankin says: ‘I penned this story at the behest of the Hay Festival. They were looking for stories of exactly 200 words’ duration, and I can seldom resist a challenge. I’ve tweaked it slightly, because when I ran a word count it turned out I’d written 202 words!’
‘A GOOD AGRICULTURAL SMELL,’ Rebus muttered. It was an August evening, the sun sinking. The field had been ploughed, but there was no sign of manure. Edinburgh’s pathologist, Professor Gates, was crouching over the body of local farmer Dennis Maclay. Rebus peered over his colleague’s shoulder.
‘Head’s been smashed,’ he stated.
‘Not to mention the urine – whole body’s drenched in it.’
Which explained the smell. Rebus looked around. ‘Animals?’ he guessed.
‘Human.’ Gates stood up. ‘I’ve seen some things in my time …’
Rebus lit a cigarette. ‘How long since it happened?’
‘I’d say a good twelve hours.’
‘Was he dead when …?’
‘He’d have put up a fight, otherwise!’
Rebus could see crows circling the trees at the edge of the field. It was so peaceful out here, six miles west of the city, the motorway a distant drone. Suddenly there was a roar directly overhead: the outline of a passenger jet, making its approach to the airport.
‘Professor,’ Rebus said quietly. ‘You know those stories? Blocks of ice falling from aircraft, jettisoned from the toilets … ?’ Now Gates raised his eyes, following the plane’s progress. ‘Hot day like this, how long would it take for something like that to thaw …?’