Страница 61 из 92
Bears are for hunting
“Ursists!” said Mary angrily.
“Get onto control and have roadblocks set up on all roads leading out of the forest. We didn’t pass a car on the way in, and this crime is less than ten minutes old.”
Jack found the entrance wound on Ed’s lower back. It was large-caliber—a hunting rifle. He was still alive, but Jack didn’t rate his chances. Illegal hunters and bile tappers: the scum of the earth.
“This is DS Mary of the NCD,” said Mary into the phone.
“We’ve got two bears shot and wounded in Andersen’s Wood….”
Jack was about to feel for Ed’s pulse again when he noticed something. Ed hadn’t lost consciousness immediately, and Jack peered closer. Next to his right claw were some letters traced with his own blood on the scrubbed flagstone floor. It didn’t read very well, but the meaning was clear: