“Mr and Mrs Humphries, yes I know, thank you Sheri,” he turned to address the couple that were sitting hunched together on a sofa in the living room. The man was consoling the woman; she had her head in his chest so far you couldn’t make out her blotchy face. “We will find your son Mrs Humphries, I promise you that.” Then he looked back to Sheri, “I need you to get some progress on the registration search, we need to find who that van belongs to. I have sent the others out on patrol. I want you also to try and keep the neighbours calm, tell them that the police will handle this; if they know or saw anything please question them but I don’t want a bunch of vigilantes roaming around.”
“Ok sir, I will do the best I can…..”
“I know I’m asking a lot, it’s just until Ginger gets here with his troop,” he turned away from her and addressed the distressed couple, “I know this is a very upsetting time, I sympathise with you, however if I may ask just a few questions and you can answer them as best you can, is that ok?”
The man nodded, the woman did not look up from her husband’s chest.
“Are there any reasons why anyone you know might wish to kidnap your son? For instance, do you owe anyone money, have a grievance with anyone or know of any other reason why this has happened?”
The man looked up, he was in his late thirties, “I do not know who has taken him nor why, please find my son Inspector.”
“I have our team working on it, that I can assure you. If there is anything else you can tell me…..” he leaned over to the sideboard, “I take it this is your son?” he asked picking up a photo frame.
“Yes,” quivered the man, he stood up when his wife sounded calmer, “if you’ll excuse me Inspector, I need to find my son.”
“I urge you to stay here Mr Humphries,” suggested Gareth, “see that your wife gets the support she needs, the police will……”
“The police will what?” snapped the man, “The police here are not equipped for such a matter, I can help……”
“The city forces will be here very soon and everything will be handled, the best bet is for you to stay at home,” Gareth said, fronting the man up, “I except this is hard for you to except, I would do the same if I was in your shoes but you must understand that I am only acting in your best interest.”
Frustrated the man sat back down, “he is a good son, a real good boy, why?” he cried and his wife joined him, they cuddled each other and wept in pain. Gareth did not know what to do next, he wasn’t used to this kind of thing and he had sent Sheri off. This is going to be a long day, he thought to himself.
2.
Gareth watched impatiently while the counties Chief Commissioner pulled his lanky body from out of his swanky car. He was easily noticed, the one with the copper coloured top, Gareth would utter. They all took a great deal of humour from his bright red hair and it came to the point where he really didn’t batter an eyelid when called Ginger, so much so he often referred to himself by this nickname.
At this point in time though Gareth was not in the mood for jokes, he had gotten nowhere with the case and feared Ginger’s men would take over. There was no time or reasons for pleasantries, not that Ginger gave them out much anyway; “What’s the latest Gareth?” he stubbornly asked.
“Not much, I have all my men out searching the area but I need more. The villagers have gathered around and are also organising a search party; due to the lack of resources I allowed them to do it under police supervision, but I need more men.”
Ginger addressed the officer next to him, “John, see that there is one officer for every ten men at least, ensure they are briefed.”
“Yes sir!” he shouted and turned on his heel.
“They tell me we have part of a registration of the van, any news?”
“I am working on that, allow me to go and check their progress if you can organise the search teams, don’t scrub me out of this job sir, I know we can do it.”
“Very well,” Ginger said, “get to it, the rest leave up to me.”
Gareth moved away, walking over to the car he spotted the father, Leonard approaching him, “please inspector, can I assist now; a social officer is with my wife; I need to do something?”
“Yes, you can, I am sorry about before; there was little you could do to help. Please go and see that man there, he is the chief commissioner; he will find you a job to do in the search.”
“I would rather work with you, if you don’t mind?”
“Very well, I understand,” Gareth was slightly flattered; it cheered him up a bit, “I am going back to the station to check out some research on the van. I will be back as soon as I can and we can search too.”
The man agreed and Gareth put his hand on his shoulder, “we are doing all we can, hold on in there.”
The village police station was little more than a house situated on side of the green; it was usually adequate for their needs but he knew that very soon a makeshift station would be erected out of canvas on the green space at the centre of the crescent by Ginger’s army. He arrived at his office and jumped out. Sheri was inside, sitting tapping frantically away on a laptop computer. “Ginger is here,” said Gareth, “any progress.”
“Good timing Sarge, its coming through now,” she stopped her typing and stared in wonder at the list scrolling up the screen. “There are ten similar registrations within a thirty mile radius from here; it could have been any one of them.”
“Narrow the search, I have a hunch this guy is more local, say, 10 miles.”
Sheri did so and waited, “Got one; Farnsworth, David: 11 Hunter Avenue. I know David, he is a strange one, wouldn’t have thought he would do this though Sarge.”
Gareth picked up his phone and pressed buttons with haste, it rang: “Johnson, we have a white van matching the reg; David Farnsworth, 11 Hunter Avenue, get over there now!” He slammed the phone down. “Are there any other possible matches, say, within a 20 mile radius; cross reference them with criminal records and email them to my phone.”
“Are you going to the address?” she asked.
“Of course,” he replied and sped back to his car. Without waiting he went to the address, it was a large village but only took a few minutes to get around. When he arrived at Hunter Avenue Johnson was already there with Bob, they were coming back around to the front of the house. “Permission to break in sir, no one is around?” Bob asked.
“We have good reason to Bob, go for it.”
Just then Gareth’s phone rang; he snapped it up, a number unknown. The voice of an old man sounded out; “hello, is this Chief Inspector Gareth Evans?”
“Yes, who is this?” demanded Gareth.
“I have heard about the missing child, I may have something of interest to you. Please come to my house; I am at The Gables, you know where that is?”
“Of course, I will be right there,” replied Gareth and promptly put the phone down. “Right, Johnson, get Ginger on the phone, we need a team down here. Wait for them, and then go in. I want a report of what you find as soon as possible.” With that Gareth took to his feet, it would be far quicker to run over to the Gables from here, by the time he started the car and driven out of the village and down its track, there was a footpath which run all the way to it.
It was an old, run down farm house which looked bleak and inhabited from a distance; this better be worthwhile, he thought as he trudged up the muddy path and banged the door knocker until it shook the whole door.
3.
An old man in a green worn out, hand-knitted Jersey opened the door, “do come in please Mr Evans,” he said in a crumbling voice. His grey hair was randomly placed on his head and far from anything you might deem as a regular haircut shape. Even his eyebrows were a mess and his ears were hugely round, his nose even more so, just redder.
Gareth stepped inside, by its décor and rough, dirty appearance it was obvious that this man was somewhat of an eccentric. “Please take a seat Mr Evans.”
Gareth did not, he was far too an
xious, “please Mr, say what you have to say, I am a very busy man.”
“I was walking the dog earlier and I spoke to one of your officers, I am quite concerned as a man came to see me not so long ago, his name was David Farnsworth and he drove up here in a white van matching the description your officer told me. My name is Boyce; I am a local historian and genealogist. He was very concerned, this lad, he had done a bit of research on his family tree, you see? We found out that his family line leads back to the old owners of Hellington Manor, a Henry Farnsworth. Do you know the story of the family Mr Evans?”
“No, I do not but please, is this relevant, we just need to locate him?” asked Gareth, he seemed to be getting tiresome of this man already; he fumbled his words and spoke very slowly.
His bony finger pointed at the inspector, “It may be crucial Mr Evans, I promise you that,” he grinned as he said it, making Gareth suspicious. “Hellington Manor was sold after the news of this tale got out to the village, it was 1789; the family were rich and owned most of the land around here. When a series of young children went missing a team of farmers and villagers went out to locate them. They found their bodies in the wood, mutated like they had been in a fight with a pack of wolves Mr Evans. After some time the lord of the manor was spotted out late at night, he was roaming the woods. A bunch of wolves were seen not long after that in the same location. Things as they were at the time led the villagers to believe that he was in fact a werewolf. Legend has it that many villagers noted this as fact, hunted him down and he fled the manor and was never seen again. The manor was later sold to the Cook family who still reside there today.”
“Really, werewolves huh?” uttered Gareth, now he really wanted to get out of here, “just tell me Mr Boyce, do you know the location of this Farnsworth bloke, I haven’t the time for ghost stories?”
“I do not know, however I can tell you that David was upset when I told him the tale, he said that it explains everything and he ran out of this house. I must have scared him somewhat but he seemed more than scared, as if he was suffering symptoms of some discomfort, which I likened to the beginning stages of a werewolf metamorphosis. I am doing some more research into the myth at the moment, I ermm…….”
“Honestly, Mr Boyce, are you suggesting that he is a werewolf?” Gareth put his hands over his face and let them go again, he made his way to the door, “if you have anything better than that I would like to hear it but for now I am very busy, like I said.”
“Please try the woods, but, be careful……”
With that Gareth left the house in an utter state of disbelief, he could have him arrested for wasting police time, but considered that he was just a crazy old man, not worth the effort.
4.
Ten hours had pasted now since the boy had been abducted, Ginger had his team searching the entire area while Gareth had returned to the police station wondering what time he should start giving up hope that the boy might be found alive. There were three possible vans’ that matched the beginning part of the registration plate that were still unaccounted for, Sheri was making inquiries.
Gareth paced the his office, chewing his fingernail, “time is running out Sheri,”
“I know sir, I have located the second van, he is returning from work in Cambridge. The man was working early this morning but not in this area. The company, a Cambridge based logistics firm are sending me a detailed account of his route via his tracker. The third van is still mysterious, owned by a gardening company; Bob is making his way there.”
“Good stuff, I still need more on the whereabouts of this Farnsworth character, have you seen his report? The flat was overflowing with his family research and books on the legend of the werewolves……..”
“You are not suggesting that you believe that mad old man Gareth?” she asked concerned as she swung her swivel chair around to face him.
“Don’t be so stupid Sheri, werewolf shit indeed! However is it not possible that if this guy heard that his ancestors were thought of as being werewolves that he has not become obsessed by the idea and perhaps believes that he is a werewolf too?”
“Highly unlikely, but certainly possible,” she considered, “pretty fucked up thing to think though……”
“It’s a pretty fucked up thing to abduct a child, wouldn’t you say?”
Sheri did not answer it, she sat and thought about it then shrugged her shoulders and returned to her work. Gareth paced the room again, “Damn! I’m calling that ginger bastard!” He did and received only the same answer, no luck yet. Gareth bite his tongue, “I know this sounds crazy sir but I’ve had a bizarre tip-off from a, well, he’s rather eccentric. I think we need to concentrate more effort on the woods….yeah…..yeah…..I know you have, I need the whole place….what? What do you mean you have no more labour? Find some!”
Gareth hung up, “bollocks!”
“What?” asked Sheri.
“He says they have reason to believe that this guy Farnsworth has him held hostage in one of the houses and suggests that they concentrate the majority of their efforts doing a house to house search.” Gareth flicked the blinds on the curtains, “fuck these winter evenings, it’s getting dark already!”
Just then they heard a thump at the door, “come in!” he yelled.
The father of the missing child, Leonard appeared, framed in doorway, backlit by the dim, yellow street light beyond, “Mr Evans, how are things going?” he asked sternly.
“As well as can be expected, I am so very sorry that we still have no news,” whimpered Gareth, there was something off-putting about Leonard’s stance and posture; he seemed much more powerful than he was before. Probably understandable, thought Gareth, the bloke has had a very hard day, he must be so agitated. “How is your wife taking the news?” he asked and then regretted it, what a fucking stupid thing to ask!
“She is still in shock, her sister is with her and so I am here now to help in any way I can,” again his tone was deeper than before, so much more serious.
“Leonard, I am always, in cases like this, overthrown by the forces that be; the city investigators have taken over the show and have got the idea from somewhere that your boy is being held captive in one of the houses in the village. I assure you that a full search is taking place. However, I have heard from, not the best of sources, but…well, that he may well have been taken him to the woods. I understand that as it is getting dark many of the volunteers from the village are giving up searching the woods. Perhaps if you would like to escort me for a little drive around the woods, see if we can’t come up with something. I mean, it’s a longshot……..”
“….but it is better than standing on our laurels….” added Leonard.
“I just don’t want you to raise your hopes, the source is rather confused, and, well, I have good reason to suspect he is, shall we say, not playing with a full deck of cards.”
“Never-the-less,” Leonard said, gesturing him to the door, “we need to check, please Mr Evans.”
“Please call me Gareth,” said Gareth as he nodded to Sheri, picked up his phone and opened the police station door.
5.
The woods were eerily silent and as dusk set upon them, Gareth’s car churned up the mud as its wheels span slightly up the track, he was concerned about Leonard; he had been very quiet the whole journey. He finally spoke, “this looks like a good place to check….urgh!”
“What is wrong Leonard?” asked Garth alarmed.
“Nothing, I am fine, just a stitch, I have had no food today. I don’t think I would have been able to keep it down, what with the worry and all,” he answered, holding his stomach.
“Can’t see much up here,” pointed out Gareth, shining his full beam over the trees.
“We must find him soon,” said Leonard, his tone was getting much more agitated; Gareth was sympathetic to his grave concerns. If he did locate a body he had to consider how to get Leonard out of its way so he wasn’t too shocked.
Leonard looked up at the sky,
a thin layer of moon was shining above the horizon, “we have to get to them soon, before midnight………”
“Why midnight?” asked Gareth.
“Because it is a full moon,” answered Leonard in all seriousness.
Gareth slowed the car and took it out of gear, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“It is a full moon tonight, I say. I have heard things about this village, stories…….”
“Who have you been talking to today Leonard?” asked Gareth, now very concerned that Boyce had made contact with him and planted some crazy notion in his mind, which was already weakened from the stress.
Leonard looked around at Gareth, he had a look of fear on his face, “please,” he went on, “I have heard from a man about, well, it’s silly really, but werewolves, do you believe in werewolves Gareth?”
“I certainly do not,” protested Gareth, “listen, Leonard; I don’t know who has put this notion in your head but I suggest that you forget it right now. It is not going to do this search any good, ok?”
Suddenly and without warning Gareth heard a thunderclap and a burst of rain fell upon the windscreen, he jumped out of his skin. He pulled the wiper lever up and at first it squeaked but as the rain fell harder it wiped droplets from the windscreen away in silence.
“There are things you don’t understand,” said Leonard, his tone was wry, drawn out and cold. It shook Gareth’s bones.
He looked at the man sitting next to him, “What are you telling me Leonard? If you know something that you are not telling me I suggest you spill the beans right now.”
“I cannot, for they are just rumours, village folklore….”
“I am getting suspicious of your actions Mr Humphries, very suspicious, there are no such things as werewolves, you realise that don’t you?” Gareth asked, he was indeed suspicious, was this man trying to hide something, trying to take him off the scent?
Tales of Worrow Volume I Page 3