Hill, Reginald - Dalziel and Pascoe 17 - On Beulah Height

by Reginald Hill

  Guiltily he peeked at the penciled scrawl. Suppose it wasn't a new book, but something intensely personal ... but no, there were the reassuring words Chapter One. He read the opening lines.

  It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing off the sea and the guard commander bowed into it with his cloak wrapped around his face as he left the shelter of the grove and began to clamber up to the headland.

  Ellie stirred. He looked down at her with love and admiration. Indomitable. A new tune, she'd said. I think we'll all be ready for some new tunes after this. And with typical boldness she'd chosen as her fanfare the corniest opening line in literature!

  With a woman like this by his side, a man could go anywhere.

  But first he had somewhere to go by himself.

  He kissed her gently and went out of the room.

  The breeze which had stirred the birch tree at dawn was stronger now, pulling at his hair, portending change. As he sped north he saw for the first time in weeks the smooth blue ocean of sky break against the far horizon in a faint spume of silver cloud.

  The gate across the reservoir road was thronged with grim-faced policemen who checked his warrant even though they knew him. Today was by the book.

  Despite his efforts at speed, his diversion had made him late and he saw the others waiting for him at the head of the mere. Greetings were short and muted. They watched in silence as he pulled on his boots.

  Finally he was ready. At a grunted signal from Andy Dalziel, they turned their faces to the rising fell and went to keep their rendezvous on Beulah Height.