Silent Crimes

by MICHAEL HAMBLING

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Sophie said. ‘She’s gonna be one angry bunny, but we need her safe. I’ll get on the phone to Polly Nelson.’

  Barry’s brain was working fast. ‘It’s possible they’ve been acting independently, but my guess is that this is a joint effort. Could they be trying to get out of the country?’

  ‘It’s possible, but I don’t see how Baker could manage it — we’ve still got his passport. Even Atkins wouldn’t find it easy, not with all the airport security we have in place nowadays. I just wonder if they’re meeting up somewhere and planning to lay low for a few months. The question is, where? Where’s a good place, somewhere between Wareham and Bristol, where they might be able to live under the radar for a while? It’d have to be close to a motorway in case they need to move on quickly.’

  Barry laughed. ‘You’ve answered your own question, haven’t you?’

  Chapter 32: The Search

  Friday Afternoon

  The wooded slopes of the Quantock Hills seemed to have lain undisturbed for centuries. Moss-covered trees crowded together on the uneven slopes, bringing a perpetual gloom to the spindly brambles, ferns and nettles that tried to rise from the semi-twilight beneath the high canopy of foliage. It was cool and dank, the occasional clearings like oases of greenery in which wildflowers, grass and assorted shrubs made the most of the sunlight. Rabbits nibbled at the tufts and deer moved slowly across the clearings, only to vanish into the shadows beneath the trees. Even the birdsong was sporadic, and it was almost impossible to spot the birds themselves, up in the top layer of branches, hidden from the sight of anyone at ground level. The police search team, a party of only twelve, moved forward silently. Greg Buller’s snatch squad was with them, up from Dorset, along with Gerry Baldwin and Floyd, the police dog, plus Sophie Allen and Barry Marsh. Everyone was dressed in black combat-style gear and boots. Two firearms officers were with the group, and the rest carried Tasers.

  They’d started at the farm, checking the derelict buildings to see if anything had been moved since the forensic team had left several days earlier, but nothing seemed out of place. The silence was eerie. Sophie recalled what Rae had said about her unease when she’d first visited the long-abandoned farm. Maybe it was due to the way the light played on the forested slopes of the coombe, the dappled mix of brightness and shadow — mostly shadow. There was no doubt that the short vale had a strange atmosphere about it. Could renovating the farm change all that? Sophie didn’t see why not.

  The team began to move through the fields towards the place where they’d found Katie Templar’s body. Beyond that, the woods were wilder and the slopes steeper. Sophie could understand why Rae had felt as she did about the Quantocks. The whole area breathed an atmosphere of loneliness and threat, and it was all too easy to imagine some nameless, malevolent force lurking in the shadows. Had it always been like this? Katie Templar had grown up on the farm, living here with her aunt and uncle after the death of her parents. Her jottings had suggested that she loved the place, not just the nearby fields and pastures but the woods and hillsides too. Of course, that was before violent death had come calling.

  Greg Buller, the search co-ordinator, had decided to make an initial sweep of the area immediately around the farm then cover the north-east slope of the coombe during the afternoon. By early evening their numbers would be swelled by the arrival of extra personnel from Somerset, so the search area could be widened. Sunset wouldn’t be until ten o’clock this early in the summer so, with luck, they would have the whole of the immediate area checked by the time darkness fell. It had to be done carefully. Andy Atkins was an experienced forestry worker who would know how to use the lie of the land to hide his movements. Moreover, he’d been a worker on the farm for almost a decade in his youth. He’d know every nook and cranny, every copse and thicket. Sophie was worried that the two fugitives would manage to slip through the net. She’d requested that officers from the local force check all local car parks, side roads and areas of waste ground looking out for unidentified cars, particularly any that matched the descriptions of the ones belonging to Atkins and Baker. But would they have been stupid enough to have driven to this area to hide, then left their cars on public display? It was unlikely. It would make more sense for them to have driven to Bridgwater or Taunton, and then taken a bus to within walking distance. Of course, all this assumed that the two runaways had come to this area in the first place. What if her and Barry’s guess was wrong? They could have gone anywhere in the country. But the search had to start somewhere, and this seemed a likely location. Something still told her that she was right, that the two suspects were lurking nearby while they made long-term plans. All of this bother could have been saved if Trent Baker had been kept locked up for longer after breaking the terms of his parole. Maybe that had been too much to hope for, with Britain’s prisons bursting at the seams.

  *

  ‘I still don’t know whether I made the right decision. She might well blow a gasket when she sees me here. I mean, what exactly can I bring to this search effort in my state? I ask you!’ Lydia Pillay was struggling to clamber out of Rae’s car, hampered by her elbow crutches. Rae Gregson was at the rear, pulling a collapsible wheelchair out of the boot.

  ‘Come on, Lydia. Now you’re here, you may as well make the most of it.’ Rae assembled the wheelchair and pushed it towards her. ‘Your carriage awaits, ma’am.’

  Lydia lowered herself into the wheelchair. ‘Where exactly are we going, anyway?’

  ‘I thought maybe the local tea shop first? I’m parched after that drive. I could do with a quick cuppa.’ Rae pushed the wheelchair along the narrow pavements of Bishops Lydeard village centre, where she found a café and manoeuvred it inside. The interior was cool and dark, and smelled of strawberry jam. The solitary member of staff looked up briefly and then returned to her phone.

  ‘How about a cream tea?’ Lydia suggested. ‘The smell of those scones is making my stomach rumble. Duty calls and all that, but we can delay our response for twenty minutes or so.’

  ‘You know me. I always follow the orders of a superior officer,’ Rae said, ‘especially when food’s involved.’ She placed the order and joined Lydia at the table covered in chintz and set with pretty place mats.

  ‘So how do we play this, boss?’ Rae asked. ‘I mean, they’re only half expecting me to appear and that’s a bit later on. I was lucky to get an earlier train than I thought. And as for you, well . . .’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe I should have thought things through a bit more before insisting on coming with you. I don’t reckon I’ll be very much use, will I? Not like this.’ Lydia gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I suppose I can help with the co-ordination. Checking off maps and so on. Ticking lists. You know, all that vital stuff.’

  The waitress brought their tea and scones, complete with small dishes of clotted cream and jam, all served in pretty chinaware.

  ‘That smells divine,’ said Lydia, closing her eyes in mock ecstasy.

  ‘Those are lovely photos on the wall,’ Rae said to the waitress. ‘Did you take them?’

  The waitress shook her head. ‘My partner. He’s trying to set himself up in a photography business but it’s hard going. I display some of his best ones to help with the promotion. They’re for sale and all were taken around here.’

  ‘What, even the caves?’ Rae said. ‘I didn’t realise the Quantocks had any.’

  ‘Nor did I, and I’ve lived here all my life,’ the waitress said. ‘It was only after I started seeing Gary, my partner. He wanders around all over the place with his camera. Apparently they’re the only two round here, and they’re pretty small by caving standards. Serious cavers never bother with them. Who’d come here with the Mendips only an hour’s drive away?’

  ‘Can I have a closer look?’

  The waitress took the two photos from the wall and brought them across. ‘They’re only a few miles away,’ she said. ‘You can see where they are from the photo titles. This one, Hol
well Cavern, is bigger but I think the farmer who owns the land has blocked the entrance to stop people going in. This other one, Cothelstone Hill Cave, is pretty small. It’s almost completely hidden in a small wood, as you can see. I always think it looks a bit spooky, but it makes a lovely photo, don’t you think?’

  ‘I’ll buy them both,’ Rae said. ‘Forty quid the pair. What do you say?’

  ‘Done.’ The waitress smiled delightedly.

  *

  They left the car on the grass verge close to a five-bar gate. A farm track led around a low hill towards a distant set of buildings, but the two detectives were more interested in a faint path running up a shoulder of grassland, beyond which Holwell Cave should be situated.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Rae asked. To her this was just a gentle stroll, but Lydia still had months of treatment to go before she would be fully fit. Nevertheless, Lydia was setting a good pace for someone still on elbow crutches.

  ‘Don’t fuss, please. I’m fine. This is just what the doctor ordered, and it can’t be more than fifty yards. Once we’re on that high spot we should be able to see the cave area fairly clearly.’

  ‘I don’t think this path has been used for months. I haven’t spotted a single broken blade of grass, let alone a footprint of any kind. And that gate we came through hadn’t been opened for ages.’ Rae was growing anxious. Nobody knew they were here, mainly because Lydia had refused to call in and tell the boss what they were up to.

  ‘C’mon, Rae,’ she’d said. ‘Who on earth would ever think that two dozy women, one of them a cripple, walking a few yards up a hillside, were on the lookout for runaway thugs? It’s a no-brainer.’

  They reached the top of the rise and stopped. The area was deserted. They could see the rocky outcrop ahead. Lydia peered at it through her binoculars. ‘The area’s covered with nettles and brambles, and I can see some barbed wire. It doesn’t look as though anyone’s been in there for months. Let’s get back.’

  Lydia found the downhill return more of a struggle and she was clearly in some discomfort when they climbed back into the car. ‘That settles it,’ Rae said. ‘It’s the wheelchair for the next one, or you stay by the car.’

  ‘It should be fine,’ Lydia panted, still out of breath. ‘The map shows a definite track running close to Cothelstone Cave, probably for farm vehicles. I don’t think we should get too close, just have a general look-see.’

  The area around the second cave proved to be much more heavily wooded than the approach to the larger one they’d just left. Rae parked the car and got out. A small stream tumbled down a narrow gorge with a dirt track beside it. Lydia had already got her breath back, but Rae took the wheelchair out of the boot and manoeuvred it into position.

  ‘I’d just feel happier with you in it, Lydia. It means you can concentrate on the terrain as we pass and if we do need to make a quick getaway, we can move faster than if you were on your feet.’

  Lydia sighed. ‘Okay, Miss bossy-boots. No need to rub it in.’

  They proceeded slowly up the narrow coombe. Lydia had her binoculars out and was carefully examining their surroundings as if she was looking for birds. The sound of trickling water gave the scene a peaceful air.

  ‘There are footprints in that damp patch of mud over there,’ Lydia said. ‘Don’t stop, just get a bit closer as you pass.’

  Rae did as she was told. ‘Two sets,’ she said. ‘Different sizes. Very recent. Shall I go on a bit further?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Rae walked on. ‘Cigarette butt on the ground to our right. It looks very fresh. I’m getting goosebumps. Do you think we’re being watched?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I’m starting to feel uneasy too. Do you hear how the birds have stopped singing ahead of us? It may be coincidence, but let’s play it safe. Turn around and we’ll head back.’

  Rae turned the chair and headed back to the car, expecting a blow to the back of the head at any moment. She helped Lydia into the passenger seat, packed the wheelchair away and started the engine. It was a while before either of them spoke.

  ‘Okay,’ Rae said, ‘how are we going to do this without the boss blowing a gasket? I’m terrified of getting the sack for putting us in danger. After what happened to you just a few months ago, she’s going to be livid. I never really thought we’d find anything.’

  Lydia looked at her glumly. ‘Neither did I.’

  Chapter 33: The Cave

  Friday Afternoon

  Sophie spent some time looking at the two photographs. The search group was having a well-deserved break for refreshments, sitting inside the unit’s control van, which was parked in the ramshackle farmyard.

  ‘You say you bought them at a café nearby? I didn’t know there were caves in the Quantocks.’

  ‘Well, that’s it, ma’am,’ Rae said. ‘Hardly anyone does. It was the waitress who told us they were local. We drove past them on the way here.’

  Sophie turned to the search leader, Greg Buller. ‘What do you think, Greg? Would it be realistic for them to hole up in a cave?’

  He shrugged. ‘At any other time of the year I’d say no. Caves are too cold, too wet and too dark for people to live in them for long. But we’re just coming into high summer and it’s been relatively dry for the past month. It’s possible. Maybe it’s worth giving them the once-over. We’ve drawn a blank here.’

  ‘Start with the smaller one — Cothelstone,’ Lydia said. ‘We had a quick look at the hillside leading to the other one and it looked like no one had been near it for weeks. The entrance looks as if it’s blocked too, not like the photo. Cothelstone is more accessible.’

  Sophie looked at her askance but made no comment. ‘Can we go with that, Greg?’

  ‘Sure. Either way round, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll get a team sorted and we can make a start in an hour.’ He got out of the van.

  Sophie switched her attention back to the map, saying under her breath, ‘Don’t underestimate me, you two. Greg might not have spotted what you didn’t say, but I’m not so easily taken in. And that’s all I’ve got to say on the matter. Now go and find yourselves something useful to do. Barry’s around here somewhere.’ With that, she turned her back on them and walked out.

  ‘Phew. I think we got away with it,’ Lydia said.

  Rae said nothing. She had to work with Sophie every day, whereas Lydia could afford to be more relaxed about upsetting her.

  Twelve search personnel were detailed to take part in the raid on the cave, with four of them working their way further up the narrow valley in a Land Rover and approaching from above. With meticulous co-ordination, their sudden swoop worked like clockwork. Rae and Lydia waited by their car, parked just where they’d been two hours earlier. They heard the voices of the returning team before they came into sight. They had two teenage boys with them, both clearly drunk. Greg Buller was carrying a plastic supermarket bag in which cans of lager and a half-bottle of vodka rattled.

  ‘Not exactly the result we were looking for,’ he said, as one of the lads lurched sideways and threw up in a nearby bush.

  ‘We’re performing our civic duty, Greg,’ Sophie replied. ‘Can someone take these two young reprobates home? Apparently, they live in Bishops Lydeard.’ Her gaze homed in on Rae and Lydia. ‘A job for you two, I think.’

  Lydia was clearly about to object, but Rae dug an elbow into her ribs.

  *

  It took only another thirty minutes for the squad to regroup and initiate a similar swoop on the larger cave at Holwell. By this time, they’d been joined by a group of local Somerset officers who were also members of the Mendips Cave Rescue team, complete with some serious caving gear. Although this second cave was supposed to have been blocked by a huge wall of soil debris some thirty metres in, it had always been thought that the tunnel probably ran much further. If the two runaways had settled in the cave, they might have found a way past the obstruction.

  Greg Buller waited until everyone was in their designated position, and then
gave the order to move in. As the team reached the narrow cave entrance, it was clear that the corrugated sheet that covered it was slightly askew, with enough of a gap for a person to slip through. The upper strand of barbed wire had been untied from its post in such a way that it could easily be pulled aside and refastened.

  ‘Whoever it is, they’ve come from up the hill,’ Buller said. ‘What about the farmer, Barry? Did he have anything to say?’

  Barry shook his head. ‘No. He says he hasn’t seen anyone here for weeks. Maybe they arrived after dark.’ He kept quiet about the farmer’s report of the two young women he’d spotted that afternoon, making their way halfway to the cave before returning to their car. ‘Could it be our two?’

  ‘You lot know more than me. You’ve met them. What do you think?’ Buller asked.

  ‘Andy Atkins has lived in this area for most of his life and he’s worked on several of the local farms,’ Sophie said. ‘He would know about this place. As for Trent Baker, well, no one knows what’s going on in his head. And he’s been in a prison cell for the past decade. This couldn’t be much worse than a cell, could it?’ She tightened the straps on her stab-proof vest. ‘Are we ready to move in? Does everyone know what they’re doing?’ She looked at each of them, waiting for their confirmation. At least they’d had a chance to practice at the previous cave. ‘Okay, Greg. Over to you.’

  Buller led the way, accompanied by two armed officers from his squad. Barry moved in with two cavers and another four members of the uniformed team as protection. Sophie brought up the rear with two more armed personnel, who swept the beams of their powerful torches around the sides of the narrow tunnel. Another small group remained outside, spread across the hillside and keeping a lookout.

  Initially, the walls of the cave were dry, but they soon spotted areas of moisture where water seeped in from the underlying rock. The team slowly and silently advanced, checking each gully and rock shelf. Sophie saw a bend in the tunnel ahead. The groups in front of her stopped, with a gap of several yards between each one. She watched Barry move forward and stand beside Buller, peering ahead. He whispered something to Buller and gave a nod.