DC Dyson knew that this brought the number of thefts from isolated farms to eighteen over the last six months. They were mainly, but not exclusively, from farms on Dartmoor, ranging from All Terrain Vehicles (colloquially called quad bikes), a Land Rover Discovery, Utility Task Vehicles, a Range Rover Sport from a farm across the county border in Cornwall, a horse box, a Bobcat mini digger, a tractor and half a dozen Land Rovers. Other items taken around that time included a jet ski and a rigid inflatable boat, both from a marina in Plymouth. Dyson was keeping an open mind on whether these thefts were linked to the others she was investigating. The detective suspected the gang were either stealing to order, or looking to sell their ill-gotten gains on the open market, probably well away from Devon.
With her inspector, she had personally interviewed most of the dispossessed owners. So far none of the vehicles had been traced. Dyson was beginning to get very infuriated with these villains and was starting to take the thefts as a personal slight on her as a detective. After each was reported she felt she was being taunted by them. If that wasn’t bad enough, she had seen first-hand the misery this was causing the victims of these callous crimes. These thieves were preying on too-trusting farmers, who sometimes even left the key in the ignition of their vehicle because of a false sense of security due to the remoteness of their farms.
The main focus of her enquiries concentrated on the rural crimes. The farms that had been recently targeted included Longford, Hanger Down, Bittaford Hill, Belstove, Clearbrook, Lower Lake, Great Tor and Black Hill Farm. She marked each on a map of the area to try and establish some sort of pattern, but, save for a few of the locations, Dartmoor appeared to be the only thing linking the crimes.
She had contacted other police Forces juxtaposed with her own, namely Dorset and the merged Forces of Avon & Somerset, as well as those further afield. She assumed that the thieves would not dispose of the vehicles locally, preferring to change their identity and sell them to unsuspecting purchasers in other parts of the country. She had also alerted Associated British Ports, based at Millbay Docks in Plymouth, as that was where ferries left for Roscoff and Santander. It was the obvious method of transporting the vehicles for sale to unsuspecting buyers abroad. There again, she reasoned that right hand drive cars would look out of place in left hand drive countries although this didn’t apply to the quad bikes and the tractor. She thought it more likely they were stolen to sell on the home market. She hadn’t exhausted all her options, but had drawn a blank with the ones she had pursued so far.
The only pattern to emerge was that all the thefts had taken place during the hours of darkness; they were mainly from isolated farms and were averaging three a month. In the cases of the two-year-old Discovery and nearly new Range Rover, from discussions with the respective farmer owners, it appeared that the thieves had simply driven the vehicles away. The keys were certainly not left in the ignition of these expensive cars. No noise had been heard of forced entry, which may well have alerted the owners or their dogs. This perplexed the diligent detective. It was as if they had a spare key for each car. She pondered how someone would get hold of a cloned key? After several minutes she came up with a way this could be done, and maybe, just maybe, she was on to something.
*
Having spent time back at Haytor car park, it was mid-afternoon when DI King and DS Harris, returned to Bovey Tracey, later than planned, to interview Alice Cranson as arranged, and give an update to Tom Bowers. There was little to report since the discovery of the mitten, which was still being forensically examined. Little doubt existed in the minds of the detectives that it belonged to Mary. The police helicopter was instructed to do a more detailed search around Hound Tor where the mitten was found.
For the third time that day they were ringing the door bell of Tom Bowers’ house. He opened it almost immediately and had composed himself since their last meeting. Tom once again introduced them to Alice and left them sitting around the breakfast bar in the kitchen, while he withdrew to the lounge, closing the door as he left. King gently began the interview, fully understanding the interviewee’s fragile state of mind.
“I know this is not easy for you, Miss Cranson, but there remains hope that your sister will be found safe and well. However, until that happens, we have to investigate her disappearance and we are interviewing a number of people in the hope that the information we receive will lead us to finding Mary.”
As DI King finished his introduction to the interview, Alice Cranson once again began to sob at the mere mention of her sister’s name. On this occasion she did not seek sanctuary in the downstairs toilet. She wanted to answer the questions, in case anything she could tell them might help the police find her twin.
“I understand that you work at the Bedford Hotel in Bovey with your sister?”
“Yes. It is our parents’ hotel and we both work there as joint managers. We have a very close working and social relationship as you would expect of twin sisters. Some afternoons, after we have finished lunches, Mary would drive onto the moor to enjoy the fresh air after being cooped up in the hotel’s office and restaurant. I would sometimes join her, but yesterday I decided to go shopping in Exeter. It wasn’t until Tom rang me just before 6 o’clock that I knew Mary had gone missing.”
“Who knew she would be on the moor apart from you?”
“The previous evening, we had been out with friends at Bovey Tracey Rugby Club and she had asked the group if anyone knew what the weather forecast was for the following afternoon, as she planned to walk up Haytor.”
“Who was in the club that night?”
“I’m sure Tom has given you their names, but if you want me to confirm them, I’ll do my best. I’ll just use first names if that’s okay? Let me see, Mary, of course, Tom, Josh, Betters, Rachel, Brian, Jack, Dick and Harry, George and Stella. I think that’s everyone. No, wait a minute, I forgot Sonia as, at one point in the evening, I remember her chatting to Mary.”
“Did you notice anything untoward involving Mary during the evening?”
“Not really as she was either talking with Tom or Sonia. I thought I detected some coolness from Dick towards her when he mentioned the weather in answer to her question, but I also think that’s his general manner.”
King noted the sister’s comment before continuing. “Did you see her before you left to go shopping in Exeter?”
“Yes, I briefly saw her get into her Punto around 3 o’clock as we had just finished our lunchtime shift. We waved to each other as she left.”
“And can you describe what she was wearing?”
“I can picture her now.” She paused and successfully managed to control her emotions.
“She had on her bright yellow bobble hat, Barbour jacket, jogging bottoms and walking boots. She may have had her scarf and mittens, but she wasn’t actually wearing them when she got into her car.”
“Did she seem any different than usual?”
“No, she was her normal self. I know she was looking forward to the freedom the moor gave her, and, truth be told, the lack of people. Look inspector, Mary has a good job, is in a very good relationship, has a nice circle of friends and as sisters we are devoted to each other: she loves life.”
“Has she ever got lost on the moor before?”
“No, she knows the moor very well. Although if she had strayed too far from her intended path, and night was drawing in, it is possible she may have become disorientated.”
Both detectives thought that this hypothesis was offered more in hope than expectation.
“Can you think of any reason why Mary may not have returned to her car?”
“Apart from what I’ve just said, no. It has never happened before, as far as I am aware.” She once again wiped her eyes with her handkerchief.
King changed tack. “How do you view the relationship of Tom and Mary?”
“They seem very happy together and have bee
n since they met.”
“Apart from you, is Mary particularly friendly with any other member of your group of friends?”
“She and Harry seem to get on well, but then, Harry gets on well with most people. He’s a bit flirty with most women as flattery probably appeals to their egos: I’ve no problem with that, but it doesn’t work with me, so I don’t get the Harry charm treatment. I mentioned already that she and Sonia often chat together.”
“Are there any friends she particularly doesn’t get on with?” the detective asked quizzically.
“Mary is a very gregarious person, and as I said before, inspector, I do know that she doesn’t particularly warm to Dick Sutton. I think he made an unwelcome pass at her in the past and he didn’t take kindly to her rejection. This was before she started seeing Tom. There is no overt hostility between them, but I can detect an underlying mutual wariness. Personally, I’m not convinced he has completely given up on her and him becoming an item at some point in the future. I think he’s wasting his time if that’s what he feels and he should look elsewhere.”
“Anyone else she may have issues with?”
“It’s fairly common knowledge that Rachel fancies Tom and therefore is a bit cool towards Mary, but that’s her problem. She does quite a lot for the club, not just supporting her dad, Betters, but also washing the kit, sometimes being a touch judge at matches and helping out in the kitchen and behind the bar.”
“Would you say that Miss Betteridge actively dislikes Mary?”
Becoming a little agitated, Alice shifted on her breakfast bar stool, and raised her voice:
“What do you want me to say, inspector? I don’t understand why you want to know so much about our friends. What can they possibly have to do with this?”
The detective had not really formed an opinion about their involvement. He could not dismiss the fact that most of her friends knew she would be on the moor that afternoon. He asked himself the question that if he was dealing with an abduction, was this purely a random act or was it premeditated? He tried to mollify her.
“By asking you about your friends, I am not implying they are involved. We are merely trying to build a picture of Mary’s life and movements over the last few days and, in particular, the time leading up to her disappearance.”
This seemed to calm Alice.
“Sorry, inspector, I am so upset with this whole situation, as our parents are too. They are beside themselves with worry ever since they were told. They have temporarily closed the hotel as they really can’t be bothered with guests at a time like this.”
“I understand. We have spoken with them and noticed the hotel was closed.”
He was not to be deflected from his questioning.
“You knew that Mary was meeting Tom last evening? I know from what you’ve said that you went shopping yesterday afternoon, but do you ever meet up with Tom and Mary at The Rock Inn?”
“I thought I had mentioned it already, inspector. The three of us occasionally meet there for a drink and sometimes have a meal together, if we aren’t on duty later at the hotel. Josh, my boyfriend, has occasionally joined us when he’s not working late at the hospital.”
“Can you think of any change in Mary’s demeanour recently, particularly over the last few days?”
“No. I told you she loves life. She has been her usual bright and cheerful self. I am so worried about her and with each passing hour I get more and more fearful that she is not coming home.”
At this point she could no longer contain her emotions and, once again, broke down. The detectives were becoming accustomed, but not blasé, to these emotional outbursts. King waited a short while as Alice gradually quelled her tears; he then concluded the interview:
“Thank you for answering the questions, Miss Cranson. I promised Tom I would keep him informed of any developments in the search for your sister, and I will do the same for you.”
With that both detectives left Alice and moved to the lounge where Tom was sitting, forlornly gazing out of the window. DI King sat down opposite him and, dispensing with any pleasantries, began asking him yet more questions.
“Are there any friends that Mary doesn’t particularly get on with?”
“She treats them all the same, but I know, because she told me, she is not overly keen on spending time with George and Stella. She doesn’t particularly like their use of sarcasm when trying to be funny. She has an arm’s length relationship with Dick, as I think some time before she met me, he apparently had the hots for her. I know she likes Josh because he always shows an interest in others. Harry makes her laugh and she finds his immaturity a rather appealing trait. She and Sonia are quite close and often have girly talk at one end of the bar when we’re at the club. Rachel, for some reason, has taken a shine to me, but Mary doesn’t see her as a threat and says I should be flattered.”
“And how was Mary towards her?”
“Understandably not overfriendly, but my girlfriend sees good in all people.” King felt he had exhausted the boyfriend, both physically and mentally, so rather abruptly terminated the interview.
“Thank you for your time Mr Bowers. We will check on the progress of the search. Rest assured, I will personally contact you and her sister if we have any news.”
*
Back at the police station, DC Dyson was leaning back in her chair and gazing into the distance. She may have appeared to a casual observer to be idling her time; not a bit of it. She had just returned after interviewing the latest victim of the farm thefts and was reflecting on the evidence from all of them, such as it was. In her contemplation she decided not to keep second-guessing where the stolen vehicles might be now. Instead she was going to check the history of each one to see if there was any connection. She knew this was a long shot, but thought it was worth a try as there were precious few other leads.
*
Just after 4 o’clock, DI King and his sergeant, chauffeured in a big police Land Rover, went straight to the spot where the mitten was found. The track to Hound Tor was not exactly easy terrain to cross, but the four-wheel drive vehicle coped admirably. They could not miss the precise spot where the mitten was found as it was ringed by “POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS” tape. King took a rather casual look at the bracken that had initially concealed the one piece of potential evidence. In his mind he accepted that it would have been difficult to see the black mitten against the blackened bracken. He looked pensive for several minutes and reached for a sherbet lemon; Harris knew not to interrupt him when he was pondering.
After this interlude of deliberation, he spoke to Harris: “This pathway, such as it is, is very firm as the granite bedrock is either very close to the surface or is the surface. It is wide enough for certain types of vehicle and they wouldn’t leave any tracks as the ground is not soft enough. However, that doesn’t mean to say it is this hard throughout its entire length. You follow it uphill, sergeant, and I’ll follow it downhill until we each reach a point, if such points exist, where the ground softens to allow footprints or other tracks. When, or if, you reach that point, mark it somehow, maybe with a page from your notebook weighted with a rock. I will do the same if I reach softer track first. Either you come to me or I’ll come to you; let’s not hang about.” He knew that the light would soon start to fade and wanted to get a good look at the ground, rather than waiting until the morning.
DS Harris reached softer ground and duly marked the spot without further inspection as her inspector had beckoned her to join him. He too had seen the track change its surface texture. Unlike his sergeant, he was examining the ground very closely. He could see various footprints, all with clearly defined patterned soles. Naturally, many footprints overlapped and the only clear impressions appeared to be left by a male walker, judging by the boot size. More careful examination was obviously required and an attempt made to see if any had been made by Mary Cranson if, indeed, she had been
on foot.
King was also interested in the extremities of the path and a few paces further back he found what he was looking for, namely the unmistakeable cross-hatched tread left by a vehicle. He asked his sergeant to get some more “POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS” tape from the police 4x4 that had brought them. As this section was the one soft part, thanks to an adjacent bog, it was only necessary to tape off a short stretch where there were clear tyre tracks. Both the detectives then went back to DS Harris’s marked spot and, sure enough, there were vehicle tracks there also and even more clearly defined than the inspector’s discovery. From closer inspection, and due to a fault or damage to a single tread of one tyre, he could deduce the circumference of the wheel from the distinctive mark left in the soft earth. He calculated the diameter of the steel rim to be about forty five centimetres. The defective tyre belonged to the off side rear wheel of the transport, which had been travelling uphill. DI King knew that this distinctive mark could prove crucial to the identification of the vehicle. He paused for a moment before speaking to his sergeant.
“Match that distinctive tyre defect to a vehicle and we can prove that it passed along this track in the recent past. Of course, whether it had anything to do with Mary’s disappearance, is another matter entirely. We will need a cast of the tyre tread and both male and female footprints.”
Missing on Dartmoor Page 4