Then I heard footsteps on the path and Angus’s voice behind me, calling, “Sorry we couldn’t save the house. We couldn’t save everything. Has anyone seen my sister? She tried to swim the sea on a palomino called Phantom,” and he was half laughing, half crying.
His face was blackened and smiling, and Hans was behind him.
“It’s nice to see you at last,” said my brother, with laughter in his eyes. I knew at once that we were in time, that I had not failed.
Hans took my hand and kissed it. His eyes glistened with tears. “And your little golden horse, did he swim?” he asked, trying to laugh.
I nodded, unable to speak and overcome by Hans’s emotion.
“Yes, he was marvellous,” I said at last, “but he’s very tired.”
“Pity about the house,” said Angus. “It must have been full of evidence.”
“And the horses?” I asked.
“All right. Caroline let them loose. Her love of horses overcame her love for her father, I suppose.”
“And the children? They’re not still in the house?” I cried.
Angus shook his head “Of course not,” he said. “I think I had better tell you everything,” he said. “But first, have you got anything to eat?”
“No, not a thing, sorry,” I said.
“Never mind. Hans, you will keep me on the right track, won’t you?” asked Angus. “After you had gone, there was turmoil. Caroline appeared at lunch to announce that you had gone off on Phantom and were lost. Mr Carli raved and ranted and then ran out of the house and up to the airstrip, and a minute later we heard his plane starting up. Everyone else seemed to believe that you were really lost, or pretended to be … Hans and I could not look at each other for fear of giving the game away. No one ate much after that. In half an hour Mr Carli was back. He took Caroline into his office, while Mr Smith – you know, the pottery chap – organised games on the front lawn to keep us out of mischief. Then Mr Carli disappeared again in his plane, and Hans and I slipped down to the square where we found Caroline preparing for the slaughter of the horses.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“She had a humane killer and a twitch,” answered Angus. “Hans twisted her arm, didn’t you, Hans? Then she started weeping. We collected all her poisons out of the tack room, opened the yard gates and took the horses down to the field by the house – and it wasn’t easy I can tell you.”
“Then we threw everything into a bin bag and dumped it – poisons, twitch, humane killer, everything,” said Hans.
“Then we heard Mr Carli coming back,” continued Angus. “We hid until he was in the house and then slipped up to the airstrip. Hans understands planes. He got inside with a knife and screwdriver. Then we found some tools in the shed near the airstrip and hammered holes in the fuel tanks for good measure. Then we made for the boats.”
“What about Jacques?” I asked.
“He was in the boathouse with Janet.”
“With Janet?”
“Yes, they are lovers,” said my brother, without batting an eyelid. “That’s why he is here. He met Janet when he came to Scotland on holiday last year. Hans found that out this afternoon, too late to be of any use.
“So we left them in the boathouse and bashed holes in the boats. It was terrific fun until Mr Carli heard the noise,” continued Angus, pausing for breath.
“What then? I’m riveted!” I cried, and it was true. All my tiredness had gone. I was so relieved that Angus and Hans were safe that I felt uplifted to a new height of happiness.
“We ran away, didn’t we, Hans? But before we went, I shouted, ‘You’re finished, Mr Carli. You can’t get off the island, and Jean is fetching help. You’ve lost.’”
“He turned mad. He hurled rocks at us, did he not, Angus?” asked Hans. “Yes, like an angry little boy. I stayed and taunted him, while Angus slipped up to the house,” he continued. “I enjoyed it.”
“I found the children with Miss Pitcher. I said, ‘Mr Carli has gone mad, get the children out,’ and I must say she was marvellous. She blew her whistle and called out, ‘Line up two and two, quick march,’ and counted them. We marched them down to the maths room.”
“And everybody else?” I asked.
“All safe. Jane took a bit of persuading. Poor Mr Matheson wouldn’t join us for ages, not till he saw Mr Carli coming up to the house, bellowing like a madman …”
“And Mr Smith?”
“He was a hero. When Mr Carli started setting fire to the place with George, he tried to stop them, and got his spectacles smashed for his pains and came out like something blind,” said Angus.
“And Maria?”
“She’s gone with the others.”
“So who are the police hunting now?”
“Mr Carli, Caroline, George and Maria.”
“So Caroline was guilty too?” I asked.
“That’s right. But you look awful, Jean. Whoever gave you those terrible clothes?”
“Shut up. She saved our lives. Your queen should give her a medal,” said Hans.
I looked at the house. The flames were subsiding, but the turrets were still there, blackened, with the glass gone from their windows.
“I suppose all our things have gone up in flames?” I said.
“Most of them, but I’ve got our money and Grandpa’s binoculars,” replied Angus.
“You must be happy,” I told Hans.
“Not yet, not until Carli’s caught. He may still swim to Tuath,” said Hans.
A helicopter was coming in to land.
“They are bringing more men and the dogs,” a policeman said.
“Great! Can we follow the hunt on horses?” asked Angus.
“If you can catch them.”
We walked up to the maths room. A policeman was questioning everyone in turn. It still smelled like a classroom in spite of the smoke wafting past the windows.
The policeman looked at us and said, “We will need to talk to you in a minute.”
Jane was red in the face. “I don’t know where Daddy is. He doesn’t want me, anyway,” she gasped.
Janet was feeding her baby. She smiled at us while Jacques sat holding her hand.
“What about your mother, dear?” asked the policeman.
“She doesn’t want me either,” said Jane.
“Tell us how it really happened; how it all began,” requested Angus.
“We don’t really know,” replied an unmistakably English policeman. “We think the horsebox driver was involved. He’s in custody. Someone must have given details of the horses’ movements,”
“You mean the Australian driver?” Angus asked.
“They didn’t have an Australian driver. They used a hired horse box.”
“Were they going to a show?” I asked.
“I believe so.”
“And the box was stopped and the driver chucked out, but unhurt?” supplied Angus.
The policeman nodded. “And then the box was abandoned?” I suggested.
“And the ransom note?” asked Angus.
“They telephoned.”
“It will be in all the papers,” said the policeman. “Buy them on Sunday.”
“When is that?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“You know George, don’t you?” I asked next. “He’s been in prison, hasn’t he?”
“They reckon so, but I can’t talk any more, I have to go,” the policeman said.
“What about Mr Carli? Do you know him?” I cried.
“You’ll have to ask Interpol that,” he said.
“So Hans is right,” I cried. “He is an international crook. We must tell Hans. Where is he?”
“Mr Carli is wanted in Germany for intimidation, in Denmark for drug smuggling, and in France for blackmail,” said the policeman.
“One more thing,” cried Angus. “Were the Australians willing to pay up?”
“No, never. You see if they had it would have set a precedent. Kidnapping hors
es might become big business; besides, the owners haven’t that sort of money.”
We followed him outside. “Let’s see the horses,” suggested Angus. “Hans is looking for Mr Carli.”
“Who has lots of other names,” I said.
“Yes, of course,” agreed Angus.
We walked along the path through the rhododendrons. I remembered Mr Carli walking through them swinging his arms. It all seemed to have happened a long time ago. In a way I had loved my bedroom with its sumptuous bed and glorious view. Now it was gone too.
“Are you tired?” asked Angus.
“Yes, but happy too. He’s nice, isn’t he?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Hans.”
“And efficient. He knew just what to do with the planes. He’s a genius in his way. He could manage the horses, too,” said Angus. We had reached the field where I had schooled so often. The jumps lay scattered. The horses stood in a huddle and threw up their heads at our approach. They were no longer tranquillised dummies, but real and afraid.
“They’re lovely,” I said.
“They would have been killed. We were only just in time. If Mr Carli had not pursued you and Phantom, we might have been too late.”
“That’s life,” I said. “Everything hangs in the balance, full of ‘if onlys’ and ‘too lates’.”
I climbed the gate, talking to the horses. “We’re friends,” I said. “No more injections, you’re going home.”
Milestone started to pace round the field like a mustang, and soon all the horses were pounding round, their tails high.
“We’ll never catch them. Let’s go back,” said Angus.
“I wonder what the others are called. I hope they win next year’s Olympics,” I said.
“So do I,” agreed Angus.
“Is it night or morning?” I asked, following Angus back along the path through the rhododendrons.
“I’m not sure. It was night, but the burning house lit up everything. Now, I think it’s almost morning,” Angus told me. “Another day. Think on that.”
“Yes, there was a moon. I remember seeing it,” I answered. Then I started to worry about Phantom, about his cut, the pebble and the possibility of his bleeding to death.
We had reached the square again. “You are just in time,” a policeman said. “They are being brought in.”
We stood and waited. The sky was light with rose and pink spreading from the east. Everybody looked tired, for it had been a long night. They were coming down from the hills protesting loudly.
“You’ll be sorry for this,” shouted Mr Carli. “Very sorry. I know a lot of people in high places.”
“They’re different horses. They have nothing to do with Australia,” said Maria, who had a scarf over her head.
Caroline said nothing. She looked beaten, and inwardly I wept for her. She looked away when I tried to catch her eye, and I guessed that everything had begun a long time ago and that she had never meant to be involved. Somehow she had been caught like a fly in a spider’s web – her father’s web – and had never got free.
George was very red in the face. From the way the police spoke to him, we knew they had met him before.
“It’s sad, and I never expected it to be sad,” I said.
“Not for me. For me it is glorious,” answered Hans. “It is justice at last.”
“You will be sorry for this, Jean,” said Mr Carli, looking straight at me. “You need help. Horse-mad girls always do.”
“I wish you had drowned, you and your damned horse,” said George.
“And you are wrong about the horses – quite wrong,” shouted Mr Carli.
“They will be identified soon enough, Mr Carli,” said a policeman, looking at his watch. “It has been a long night and I advise you to come quietly.”
“They are not the ones held to ransom. They are a different lot altogether. You should never listen to Caroline, she is not reliable; she isn’t stable, she never has been,” Mr Carli shouted wildly.
I thought of them being taken to court. Would they have blankets over their heads?
“Maria is his girlfriend. I had suspected that all along,” said Angus, “so everything falls into place, doesn’t it? Everyone else, except for George and the mysterious woman who came in the night with the horses, is in the clear. I’m glad.”
Jon was coming towards us. He held out his hand.
“Well done,” he said. “You have won.”
But it did not feel like winning, perhaps because we had never wanted to enter. We had come to enjoy ourselves, not to compete.
The children were out of the classroom now, running, screaming and leaping towards the sea, like a pack of hounds just let out of kennel.
“Steady! Moderation in all things,” called Miss Pitcher, but they were out of control, pushing and fighting each other on the sand.
Mr Smith said sadly, “I should have known. I should never have left it to you kids. I had no idea the horses were even here. Why didn’t you come to me for help?”
“Because we didn’t trust you,” answered Angus. “We didn’t trust anyone once I realised that Maria was collaborating with Mr Carli. It was such a shock.”
I remembered how Angus had admired her right from the start. Then Mr Smith asked, “Is that Jean? I can’t see anything without my spectacles, but I want to shake your hand. I never thought you had it in you to undertake such a swim. I misjudged you completely. You see, I have never liked horsey girls.”
His handshake was firm and long-lasting. I took my hand away at last. Our task was finished. I wanted to be with Phantom again, nothing else at that moment, only that. But the policeman who seemed to be in charge told us that the Australian trainer would be arriving at any minute to look at the horses. “You’re booked into the Flora Macdonald Hotel on Tuath for the night, and then you can go home,” he told us.
Angus said, “We must speak to our parents first.”
The policeman said that it could be arranged and that nothing was too much trouble for such a brave lad and lassie.
I said, “What about Hans?”
“I’m looking after myself,” replied Hans. “I’m all right.”
“They haven’t wasted much time, have they?” I asked.
“Who?”
“The police.”
“Not now, not once they were here. But they were a long time arriving. It was awful waiting for them – you’ll never know how awful,” said Angus.
A boat was approaching the jetty.
“This is it. This is the moment of truth,” announced Angus.
I went pale. I know my hands started to shake and I thought, Suppose it was all for nothing? Suppose we’d made a mistake? How will we ever live it down? Suppose the grey wasn’t Milestone after all?
Hans put an arm around me. “Do not worry, everything is going to be all right, Jean,” he said. “I tell you, I know.”
Two young Australians leaped from the boat. “Okay, where are they then?” they cried.
“Follow me,” said Angus, looking rather wan. “We can’t catch them, but perhaps you can.”
Behind us, the children were lining up to get on the boat which had brought the Australians. I could hear Miss Pitcher’s shrill voice calling, “Two by two. Not that way, Rachel dear. Matthew, come here at once …”
11
The Australians were lean and fit, and they walked too fast for us. Running to keep up, I knew how tired we were, even Hans, who until now had seemed to possess the strength of ten men. We were like flat batteries which needed recharging.
“My, what a place!” exclaimed one of the Australians. “My forebears came from Scotland. They left at the time of the Clearances. Think of that!”
“There they are. In the field over there,” said Angus pointing, his voice trembling a little.
“Are they your horses?” I asked. I looked at Angus and knew that we both felt like screaming with suspense.
The Australians didn’t reply. They s
imply called the horses, using pet names. Angus smiled, a smile which stretched from ear to ear.
“Well? Yes or no?” he cried.
“Yeah. They are ours all right.”
I sank into the heather. For a moment I had no strength left. Angus gave them the head collars we had carried. The horses were pacing round the field, playing games, snorting and prancing, looking beautiful beyond words in the early morning light.
“We were right then. Oh, I’m so tired,” said Angus, sinking down beside me.
The Australians were pulling their horses’ ears, running their hands down their legs, overcome with emotion at finding them. I knew how they felt. How they must have suffered, wondering whether they would ever see them again.
“My legs ache and I want to see Phantom. He has a bad wound and if the bandage comes off, the flies will be eating it – and I want to go home,” I said.
“Home?” exclaimed Angus. “It seems years since we were there.”
“A whole century,” I said.
We walked back towards the square, past the burnt house still smouldering in places, with our belongings turned to ash inside.
“We’ve lost almost everything. It’s lucky I thought of the money, otherwise we would be penniless. I hope my radio and camera were insured,” said Angus, stopping to look.
“It’s sad, but it’s not the end, worse things could have happened,” I said. “Phantom could be dead.”
I thought of my hat, boots and saddle, on the other side of Uaine. It seemed years since I had left them there. I remembered the seals and how beautiful it had been and how I was afraid, and I felt so grateful to be alive, so grateful that everything looked twice as beautiful as it had before.
“People are not exactly thanking us, are they?” I asked. “I mean, we tipped off the police, told them everything, nearly died, and no one’s even said thank you to us yet.”
Phantom Horse 5: Phantom Horse – Island Mystery Page 8