‘And you’re telling me all this because …?’
‘I want you to take the pendant. I’m worried about what you are getting into with Quist and Harlequin and all. You may need something like this.’ He lifted it on its chain and slipped it over Cobb’s head.
‘So how do I use it?’
‘Hit the stone against something hard enough to break it, that will release the power. Now you lie back and rest. You’ll be safe here tonight.’
For once Cobb didn’t argue, he was too tired. He lay back and within moments he was snoring heavily.
Caledonia Bound
Cobb gave himself a day’s rest before setting off for Caledonia. He had a day at home resting his bruises, drinking brandy for “medicinal purposes” and giving his ribs time to recover from the beating. He kept finding himself taking out Adele’s photo without thinking about it and staring at her lovely face. Cursing himself for a fool he would put the picture away, only to find that half an hour later, he was staring at it again.
Next day he fed Lucifer and let him out of the house. Cobb had cut a cat-flap into the door so Lucifer could come and go as he pleased. Thornton would come round and put food out for him every day, so he was sorted.
Then Cobb caught a Hansom cab to Paddingworth Station where he caught the overnight, sleeper train to Inverdupp, Adele’s last sighting.
As the steam train pulled out of Paddingworth, Cobb found his sleeping compartment, dumped his bag and went off to find the restaurant car. He was travelling First Class as Quist was picking up the expenses.
Cobb sat at a table eating some sandwiches and sipping a drink, watching the countryside slip by as he mulled things over. ‘What are you getting into?’ Thornton had asked him. What was he getting into? The truth was, he didn’t know. This business with Harlequin was puzzling. What did he have to do with Adele and Quist? Who were the little men in grey robes? What time was dinner? All these and many other thoughts ran through his head as he waved the waiter over to order another drink.
He decided that there was no point worrying about any of it as the worst-case scenario was, Cobb would end up dead. That didn’t worry him; he just hoped he didn’t get beaten up too many times along the way. He didn’t like the thought of anything happening to Adele, though.
He also didn’t like the thought, that he didn’t like the thought of anything happening to Adele. That did bother him.
When he had finished his sandwiches, he swigged down his drink and went back to his compartment and read a book. It was the latest from the popular writer Robert Louis Armstrong. It was about a mild mannered doctor who took a potion that turned him into another personality, that of a crazed killer. It was called The Day of the Jekyll.
That evening, he made his way to the restaurant car and after studying the menu; he ordered himself a nice steak and a bottle of burgundy. It was too dark to see the countryside except occasional flashes of light as they passed a station or went through a town.
He finished his meal, ordered another bottle of wine and sat there, staring out into the dark night as he went over the case in his mind. By the time he had finished the bottle he’d decided that he had exhausted all possible theories based on the evidence he had, he couldn’t make any more out this case until he had more information. And that meant talking to Adele Curran.
As he weaved his way back to his compartment, he thought he saw a flash of red and white. This had happened to him several times since he had been on the train but whenever he looked in that direction there was never anything to be seen. Still, he didn’t trust that Harlequin character and he had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of that irritating, cosmic clown.
***
There was jolt; a violent shaking and the rail car lurched sideways, throwing Cobb to the floor. Cobb had fallen asleep on the bunk fully clothed, so he didn’t have to waste any time grabbing for something to cover himself. He climbed to his feet and looked out of the window. It was a clear, moonlit night and he could see that the train was stationary. He threw the compartment door open. People were coming out of their compartments in their night attire, demanding to know what was going on of anyone they could grab hold of. The railcar had come to a halt at a slightly uneven keel. Cobb forced his way through the crowd in the narrow corridor to the door at the end of the carriage. He opened the door and jumped down. They were in open countryside.
Lights were coming on in the sleeping compartments along the length of the train as people roused themselves. Cobb could see by the crooked arrangement of those lights that the train snaked from side to side along the track instead of in a straight line. The train had been derailed! Cobb headed off towards the engine.
He found the train driver sitting on the step of the engine nursing a bleeding head, being attended by the fireman. As Cobb arrived, the guard came puffing up to the engine also, buttoning up his trousers. ‘What’s happened Harry? Are you all right?’ said the guard.
‘Yeah, I’ll live,’ replied the driver. ‘We hit something on the track. We should go and check it out.’
The four of them walked around to the front of the train. The guard tried to send Cobb back down to the carriages but Cobb told him he was ‘Inspector Cobb’ and that he was staying. This shut the guard up and he suddenly got very respectful, calling him ‘Inspector sir’.
The four of them stopped and stared in silence at what they saw. There was a small tree sticking out from under the engine. It had obviously got under the wheels and derailed the engine. But what caused the train driver to curse fluently was the fact that the nearest trees were about twenty feet away. There was no way the tree could have just fallen across the line. Cobb examined the roots; they were still covered with fresh soil. This was no accident; someone had deliberately uprooted the tree and dragged it across the railway line.
The train driver said, ‘It was lucky it happened here and not farther down the line. This bit of rail is on a gradient with a bend at the top. We were going up the slope. This point is probably the slowest part of the whole journey, we can’t have been going more than twenty miles an hour.’
‘So the intention was probably just to stop us, without hurting anyone, is that right?’ said Cobb, which earned him a dirty look from the train driver as he dabbed at his still bleeding head. ‘Can we go on if we move the tree?’
The train driver looked at the stricken engine, ‘Not a chance, she’s completely off the rails. It will take a crane to get that back in service.’
‘So, where are we and what do we do now?’ asked Cobb looking round at the unfamiliar scenery.
‘We’re in Jorvikshire,’ said the train driver. ‘There is a little station just a few miles down the track, with a telegraph. My fireman can run down there and call for some help. Fortunately there are no more trains scheduled for tonight along this track, so we’ll be all right for the time being.’
Cobb turned to the guard and said, ‘Well, in the meantime, I suggest that you and I go and see if we can help out back there.’ As they went back to the jumbled carriages, Cobb was thinking very unkind thoughts about apparitions in red and white outfits that, it appeared, were trying to stop him from getting to Caledonia.
The train crew, guards, cooks and waiters, assisted by Cobb, settled the passengers down on the derailed train. As there was no danger to remaining in the train, they persuaded everyone to return to their sleeping compartments. Injuries were few and only of a minor nature, which the train staff quickly dealt with. Next day a fresh train arrived to take the passengers and their luggage, onwards to their destination.
(Interesting historical footnote: Jorvikshire is the area of Albion around the county capital city of Jorvik. It was named Jorvik by the Vikings who settled there a thousand years ago and took to farming.
Now then, these are the same Vikings that for hundreds of years terrorised all the lands that faced onto the Northern Sea. They raped and pillaged their way through Europe all the way down to Gaul, where they eventually became the Norm
ans ((from Norsemen)) who went on to rule Europe. They crossed the seas to Albion and Eire burning and slashing their way through the countryside and leaving their imprint on these countries. And yet look at their descendants now …
They wear flat caps, breed whippets, go around saying, ‘Eeh by Gum. There’s trouble at mill!’ and form Brass Bands at the drop of a hat. Funny old thing history, innit?)
***
Three days later Cobb arrived in Inverdupp. On arrival, Cobb spoke to Darby’s informant who confirmed that Adele had been through the station; she had been alone and was travelling light, just a single bag. Other than that the informant had not been able to find hide nor hair of her. Cobb booked himself into the railway hotel and went for a walk round the town.
Inverdupp was a pleasant little town on the shores of the Murry Firth. It was the last stop on the railway line going north but the road went on from there to the very tip of Caledonia, “Jock o’ Goats”. Some miles away was the famous “Loch Dupp” which was where Inverdupp got its name from.
The first thing he noticed as he walked round the town was the strange smell, it took him a while to realise what it was … fresh air. Living all his life in Londum he was accustomed to the stink of the open sewers and the muck-laden streets mingled with the stench of the River Isis, into which all the filth of the city flowed. Cobb found the clean air and the fresh sea breeze blowing in from the Murry Firth quite invigorating.
Cobb walked round town for a few hours, showing Adele’s picture to hotel clerks and boarding house proprietors, with no luck.
That evening as Cobb sat in the hotel bar having a drink, he idly read the posters on the wall. All of a sudden he froze as one particular advertisement caught his eye.
Come and see the famous
Loch Dupp Monster
“Duppie” has been Caledonia’s most
popular tourist attraction for years
Come and see the Wonder of the Ages
A genuine, living, prehistoric reptile
Fun for all the family. Watch “Duppie” feeding
Shows daily
Underneath that was a pretty genuine looking picture of a long necked, humped backed sort of reptile, quite happily swimming past a boatful of tourists.
What was it Mrs. Stiverley had said? ‘All I can make out is that she is near a large body of water. A lake, not a sea.’ And loch was Caledonian for Lake. Of course! She was at Loch Dupp! This detective business is getting too easy, thought Cobb. Next time I’m looking for a lost dog, I should just throw some sausages out the back door and wait for the dog to turn up.
Cobb went over to the bar to freshen his drink and as the barman served him, asked him, ‘So this Loch Dupp Monster is real then is it? I always thought it was just some myth to attract the tourists.’
‘Oh aye, the wee beastie’s real, so it is. I’ve seen it ma’sel dozens of times. There’ve been sightings of the thing for centuries but it’s only in the last ten years or so that it’s become more tame, the noo. Someone figured out that if you tip a load of fish into the loch, the thing will come and feed, so it will. And it did, so over time it’s come to expect its daily dose of fresh fish. It ken’s by noo, that no one will hurt it, so it doesn’t mind all the tourists clicking away with their wee cameras.’
‘So how do I get to see it?’ asked Cobb.
‘They do a carriage down to Loch Dupp every day, so they do. It’s a good twenty miles away, so it’ll take all day to get there. But dinna ye’ fear, there’s a couple of good hotels to stay in which’ll be quiet this time of year. Would ye’ like me to book ye’ a place on the carriage? It leaves at nine o’ clock.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Cobb. ‘And leave the bottle, would you?’
Loch Dupp
Cobb climbed down stiffly from the carriage as it stopped in the town of Drumnadrochit. It was a little town half way along the length of Loch Dupp that had grown up around a bay that was overlooked by an ancient castle, Urquhart Castle. The arse-numbing, twenty-mile ride over country roads had taken all day, with only one stop for lunch. The weather was getting cold at this time of year and he was chilled. He needed a hot bath, some food and, oh yeah, a drink.
He put down his bag, stretched his back and looked up at the hotel that the carriage had stopped outside. “The Highlander’s Welcome” it was called. From Cobb’s time on the police force he knew from experience of arresting drunken Caledonians, that a Highlander’s Welcome was usually a head butt or a kick in the groin.
He picked up his bag and entered the hotel. He walked up to the counter and rang the bell. The hotel receptionist came out from his office.
‘Good day to you sir, would it be a room you’re after?’ he said looking at Cobb’s bag.
‘Yes please, just for a few days while I look round.’
‘Here to see the monster, I suppose?’
‘Yes, I hear it’s quite an attraction. Do you get many tourists this time of year?’
‘No’ as many as in the summer ye ken, but they come here all year round. That’ll be room twenty-three at the back. I’m sorry but all the rooms with a view of the loch are taken. Would ye mind signing the register?’
As Cobb signed in, he ran his eye over the list of recent hotel guests. Nobody by the name of Adele Curran had signed in but there were a few other possibilities. Cobb made a mental note of them.
‘Is there any chance of a hot bath?’ he enquired.
‘Aye, we have a boiler at the top of the house. Just turn on the tap and it’ll come out hot.’
Cobb accepted his key from the receptionist and went up to his room. The day was drawing on so he opened his bag and took out a bottle. He poured himself a drink as he ran a bath.
He went down to the hotel restaurant and had a nice meal and a bottle of wine at Quist’s expense. After his meal he went into the bar and chatted to the barman.
‘It’s a lovely town you’ve got here,’ said Cobb. ‘Does anyone rent out accommodation around here? I might want to stay for a while. See a bit of the countryside.’
‘Aye, that would be Mrs. Anderson. She owns a few holiday cottages around the place. Some people like to spend the whole summer up here. I’ll write down her address for you and instructions how to get to her place.’
‘Thanks, that’s very kind of you. And I’ll have another drink as well, why don’t you have one yourself?’
By the time Cobb went to bed he had found out that Adele had arrived in Loch Dupp, stayed her first few nights at the Highlander’s Welcome and then moved out into rented accommodation. He had also developed a taste for Glen Hoddle whisky.
***
Next morning after breakfast, Cobb went for a wander round the town. He walked along the shore of the loch, past the jetty where the steamer Empress of the North was moored. They were advertising trips around the loch and, apparently, if you took the one o’ clock trip, you were guaranteed to see “Duppie”. Cobb thought he would give it a try if he had finished his business with Mrs. Anderson in time. He’d seen enough strange things when he was drunk, it would be interesting to see one when he was sober.
Following the barman’s directions, he found his way to Mrs. Anderson’s house. He knocked on the door and a maid answered. When he explained why he was there, she showed him into the drawing room and asked him to wait while she fetched her mistress.
‘Good morning, I’m Mrs. Anderson and you are …?’
Cobb stopped his inspection of the room and looked at Mrs. Anderson. She was a stocky, plain looking woman but moderately wealthy judging from the house and the jewellery she wore, discreet but expensive. Cobb had already figured out that she was a middle-aged widow, previously married to an older man. His death was long enough ago for his personal effects to have been packed away but there was still a picture of the two of them on the mantelpiece, framed in black ribbon. But as the cigar cutter with fresh tobacco on it, lying on the sideboard testified, she did have a gentleman or gentlemen callers. (He couldn’t help it;
he was a detective after all.)
‘My name’s Rufus Cobb. The hotel recommended that you are the lady I should speak to if I need to rent a place around here,’ he replied to her query.
‘Aye that I am, please be seated.’ They sat and the maid brought them tea. They chatted about the rental charges and the locations of the holiday cottages. Mrs. Anderson produced a map and showed him where the cottages were situated.
‘Which ones are empty?’ asked Cobb. As she pointed them out to him on the map, Cobb took a mental note of the location of the occupied cottages. Adele would be in one of them.
‘And you do rent out to single people? I don’t have a family with me,’ asked Cobb.
‘Oh certainly we do, we quite often get writers and painters here on their own to work in peace, why only the other day I rented one out to a single lady up from Londum, a school teacher.’
‘Excellent, well I’ll take a look at your cottages, see which one takes my fancy and call on you again when I have chosen one.’
‘Fine, I’ll look forward to seeing you. Janet will show you out. Good day Mr. Cobb.’
‘Good day Mrs. Anderson.’
The maid showed Cobb to the door and he set off back into the town. On his way back he located the general store. If all else failed he could keep an eye on that, she would have to buy food eventually, but there were other things to try first.
Cobb began checking out the holiday cottages that were on the same side of the bay as his hotel, overlooked by the castle. Some were obviously occupied by families but he found one or two possibilities that would be worth double-checking later.
As Cobb walked down the street he passed a couple of men with large bags slung over their shoulders. He could see Bashee clubs poking out of the top of the bags. Ah, thought Cobb, there must be a Bashee course around here somewhere.
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