“Were you using it on the day Miss Cranson disappeared a week ago?”
“No, I used the tractor as Dick was out on the quad bike and Harry was working on the UTV. I’d been out on the moor, checking on lambing.”
“And what time did you get back to the farm?”
“I think it was just after 4 o’clock.”
Harris looked up from her notepad. “According to your son, Harry, he told us you came back closer to 5 o’clock: so, which is it Mr Sutton?”
“Look, I don’t keep a record of my comings and goings. Perhaps it was later than 4 o’clock. Why is it so important anyway?”
King answered: “It’s important because a young woman disappeared from the moor that afternoon, and in investigating what happened to her, we need to know where the people were, who knew she would be on the moor.”
“I didn’t know she’d be on Haytor. Why would I?”
“Both your sons knew and could have mentioned it to you.”
“They didn’t and even if they had, I’m not in the habit of abducting young women.”
“Who said she was abducted?”
“Well, whatever happened to her, it was nothing to do with me.” Farmer Sutton looked suitably chastened by the questioning, but could do nothing to explain the discrepancy in the testimonies.
The sergeant continued.
“In our meeting on Tuesday, we asked why you left in a hurry during our previous visit? You said it was because you wanted to check on cattle in the field called High Spain. We happen to know that cattle aren’t kept on that field: you use it for sheep and lambing. So, why did you tell us you were checking on cattle?”
“I have to go across High Spain to get to the cattle I was looking for.”
“And has that field got a name?”
“Yeah, it’s called Tor View.”
“Let’s leave that there. The other reason for leaving in a hurry, you said, was to see a neighbour: who was that?”
“His name is Fred Pearce. He owns Black Tor Farm and I wanted to check if he had any sheep go missing. I think we’ve lost about a dozen sheep over the last few months and I suspect bloody rustlers. He told me he thought he may have lost a few, but it’s difficult to keep track on our flocks, as they roam over such a big area. Of course, when we can find them they are all easily identified. Fred uses a blue dye on their backs in the shape of a cross. We use a green dye, just as a slash across their shoulders.”
King abruptly terminated the interview, partly because he didn’t think he’d get any more from the wizened farmer, and partly because Dick Sutton had returned. He dismissed the rustling claim on the basis that if the police hadn’t had an official report of a crime, he had enough to do with the other reported disappearances.
He thanked the farmer and walked across the yard, with his sergeant, to speak with the older son.
“Hello again, Mr Sutton. I’d like to ask you some more questions and also inspect the UTV.”
The thinly veiled exasperation showed on Sutton’s face. He stepped aside and waved his right arm towards the vehicle with a be-my-guest gesture. The detectives walked over to where the UTV was parked. The first thing that struck them was how clean the inside of the vehicle was compared to the outside. This didn’t come as a complete surprise as, obviously, mud would splatter the outside. Nevertheless, the inside was spotless, as if it had been recently scrubbed. The distinctive defective tread on the tyre, was not evident, so they beckoned Dick Sutton over and asked if he could move the vehicle, just for a half turn of the wheels. They expected him to start it and edge forward. He didn’t do that, merely moved to the back and placed his shoulder against the tailgate. With one heave of his considerable strength, the UTV was powerless to resist, and nudged forward revealing the disfigured tread.
“Would you say that you use this vehicle more than your father and brother?”
“Not particularly. I’ve never bothered to keep a record. We all use all of them for about the same amount of time. I suppose dad may use the tractor more than Harry and me, and I tend to use the UTV for feeding, but when I want to inspect our animals, I tend to use the quad bike.”
King persisted. “So, despite your first answer, you are the biggest user of the UTV?”
“Okay, marginally, why is it important?”
“This vehicle had passed very close to the place where Mary Cranson’s mitten was found. We know that because of the tyre mark made in the ground next to it showed a distinctive defect on its tread. Have you been on that track close to Hound Tor recently?”
“Probably, but so too would Harry and dad. When you have cattle and sheep spread over the moor, we cover a lot of ground checking on them. There’s a good chance, perhaps, I was by there a few days before, but if you are insinuating that I had something to do with her disappearance, you’re wrong. I told you where I was and what I was doing at that time, and you’ve got two choices as to whether you believe me.”
“And which vehicle were you using that Wednesday afternoon?”
“Actually, I was on the quad bike, as Harry was servicing the UTV.” King changed tack. The questioning technique of switching topics was designed to reduce thinking time for the interviewee and it made it more likely truthful answers would be given: anyway, that was the theory.
“You know the field called Tor View that you reach by going across High Spain?”
“Of course, what about it?”
“What animals do you keep in that field?”
“Sheep mostly. Why do you want to know?”
King moved on without answering the question. He kept coming back to the same point to see if the brother would get so exasperated he would slip up – truth or lies?
“Tell us again Mr Sutton, what you were doing on the afternoon Miss Cranson went missing?”
Sutton was truculent, but repeated that he had got Harry to do his milking shift, while he searched the moor for his beloved knife. He restated what he had told them previously, namely it was precious as it had been given to him by his mother before she died and he didn’t want to lose it. He wasn’t sure if he’d dropped it and, if he had, where it was likely to be. He had retraced the path he had taken, but as he had covered so much ground before he lost his knife, the chances of finding it were slim.
After consulting her notes, Harris later confirmed that his story was unchanged. However, sticking to a story is one thing, but it was still uncorroborated.
King continued: “One last question I would like to ask you: why is the inside of the UTV spotless?”
“That’s Harry for you. Unlike me, he likes to keep it nice and clean. So he regularly scrubs it and pressure washes it inside and out.”
“Why just that vehicle and not the others?”
“You’d better ask him that.”
At that point Harry joined them and checked if he was intruding. Turning back to the older brother, King thanked him for his time, tantamount to a dismissal: Dick Sutton took the hint, and left. The inspector then turned his attention to the younger Sutton.
“We meet again Mr Sutton. We were just talking to your brother about the vehicles you all use around the farm: he told us that you like to keep them nice and clean, particularly the UTV: why is that?”
“That’s the one that tends to get the most use and because it has a cabin, rather than just a seat like the quad bike, I treat it more like I would a car, whereas I just hose down the quad bike.”
“But why so clean? It’s spotless inside.”
“That’s because I clean it once a week and I did it yesterday. It’ll soon get dirty again.”
King and Harris listened to what he had to say and both thought he could be suffering from a mild form of obsessive-compulsive disorder. However, this mental condition didn’t explain why his OCD only seemed to manifest itself on one vehicle. The inspector was not entirely s
atisfied with the reasons given by the young farmer, but as he had a plan that was soon to be put in to effect, he moved on.
“Remind us, if you would, about your movements a week ago, the day Miss Cranson disappeared.”
“I told you last time that I was at the farm doing odd jobs and working on the UTV. I got on with the servicing and washing as planned.”
“And what time was that?”
“I think I began about 3 o’clock, maybe a little earlier. I remember I started milking a bit late as I needed an hour or so to change the oil and wash off the mud. I was doing the milking for Dick, and when he came back he helped me finish off.”
“And what time did your dad get back?”
“I couldn’t say exactly: I don’t wear a watch when I’m working as it would get battered with the jobs I do day-to-day. It felt like it was about fiveish, but could have been a bit before or a bit after.”
King didn’t see the need to pursue that any further. He wanted to ask about the vehicles and see if there was any conflict with what he’d been told by the brother.
“Remind me if you would, Mr Sutton, you’ve got three main vehicles you use on the farm: the tractor, the UTV and the quad bike: who uses which?”
“We all use all of them. It depends on the job we’re doing. Dick probably uses the UTV most for feeding out on the moor. I probably use the quad bike when I need to check on our livestock. Dad uses either when he visits his farming friends on nearby farms. He also uses the tractor most of all of us.”
“As a matter of interest, what animals are kept on Tor View field?”
“We tend to keep sheep on it as it’s next to High Spain. When the numbers increase at lambing time it’s easy just to open the gate linking the fields.”
“That’s all for now Mr Sutton. We want another word with your father before we leave; then all three of you together.”
“No problem. Still no sign of Mary I suppose?”
“I’m afraid not, but our investigation continues and we are following a number of leads.”
“Okay, and good luck. I think my dad’s in the house.”
While walking to the house, the inspector shared his thoughts with his sergeant.
“I’m still not happy with any of the testimonies. Dick Sutton still hasn’t satisfactorily accounted for his time that day. Harry Sutton was probably at the farm all afternoon. I think that father Sutton is a stranger to the truth, and appears to have been on the moor at the crucial time, if Harry Sutton is right about the time he returned. Let’s quiz him again.”
King and Harris approached the farmer for what seemed like the umpteenth time.
“So, Mr Sutton, there seems to be some discrepancy about the time you returned to the farm that Wednesday. You need to be more precise as to where you went, and the time of your return.”
“I’ve thought about what we discussed earlier, and I left Fred’s place on the tractor about 1.30 and on the way back, I called in at Tor View. I reckon that I got back, certainly no later than 4.30.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t after then?”
“Could have been a bit later I suppose, but not much.”
“Going back to something we discussed with you already: you told us you went to that field to check on cattle, but your lads tell us you only keep sheep there.”
“That’s true, but last week a few stray steers had got into the field and had to be driven out. I just wanted to check they hadn’t got back in again.”
“Why did you take the tractor? Surely one of the other vehicles would have been better?”
“Dick was on the quad bike on the moor and Harry wanted to service the UTV.”
King thought he’d taken this line of enquiry as far as he could. He told the father he needed to speak to him and his sons together.
When they were all assembled, the inspector gave them the bad news: “I want Forensics to take a look at your UTV and the quad bike. So, I’ve arranged for a low-loader to collect both vehicles shortly: I’d like the keys to each please. I’ll get them back to you tomorrow, if possible, or at least the UTV so you can do essential feeding of livestock.”
All three farmers wanted to complain bitterly, but didn’t, not only because if they objected they could be criticised for hampering a police investigation, but they also thought that appealing to a man like King would be futile: the inspector wasn’t going to change his mind. The keys were somewhat grudgingly handed over and the police lorry duly arrived and loaded the vehicles. The detectives followed it out of Quarry Farm in their car. When they reached the end of the drive King took out a sherbet lemon and raised his hand in a ‘please wait’ gesture. After a minute or so he spoke in self-admonishment.
“I really should have got their vehicles inspected before now. Anyway, what do you think of what the Suttons had to say?”
“Well, sir, I think all three are plausible and, yet, I think all three could be lying. We either have an uncorroborated alibi or two testimonies that are at odds over timing. I’d like us to interview Fred Pearce to check out that part of farmer Sutton’s story.”
“I agree, so let’s pay an impromptu visit to Black Tor Farm.”
*
The detectives decided to have a coffee in Ashburton before visiting farmer Pearce. As they sat inside The Old Coffee House café, King was sorting out messages on his mobile. Harris, meanwhile, was looking at him and thinking how nice it would be, just to be sitting with Richard, when they were off duty, and chatting about normal everyday things, instead of discussing potential reprobates.
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted when her mobile rang. She listened intently to the person who had phoned her and after a couple of minutes thanked the caller.
“Sir, that was Sam Dyson back at the station. She said a report had just come in: another woman has gone missing on the moor!”
FOURTEEN
On that Thursday evening a storm was brewing over Dartmoor. When it arrived soon after midnight, streams that usually amble across the moor were transformed into raging torrents as the torrential rain remorselessly battered the landscape. As dawn broke the storm had passed and left in its wake a stillness that belied the ravages of the night.
Amy Mason, a twenty four-year-old dental hygienist from Yelverton, had decided to walk around Burrator Reservoir, starting at first light. It was her morning off from the dental surgery and, although it had been raining heavily overnight, it was now bright and clear. However, the forecast was for it to become increasing cloudy with a strengthening wind. She wasn’t unduly bothered as she planned to be back from her walk before the weather turned.
Amy wanted to make an early start and be back to work at noon. She was working until 8 o’clock that evening, as the surgery offered late-night appointments. She lived at home with her mother, Janet, and before leaving, told her she would be back soon after 11 o’clock to get ready for work. When her daughter hadn’t returned by 11.20, her mother became concerned, rather than worried: if Amy didn’t get back in the next ten minutes, it was likely she would be late for the surgery. Mrs Mason rang Amy’s mobile number and got no reply, so left her a voicemail message. She wasn’t to know that her daughter was physically incapable of answering her phone. Following a further unanswered call, the concerned parent decided to drive to the reservoir to try and find her.
On her arrival, she quickly found her car, parked close to the dam that helped form the reservoir behind it: there was no sign of Amy. Walking a short distance in one direction proved fruitless, and then retracing her steps and walking over the dam, which doubled as a road bridge, also, sadly, had the same outcome. At this point her anxiety rose sharply as it was so uncharacteristic for her daughter to be late for work. Unsure of what to do, after briefly hesitating, she rang the police.
It was gone noon when two uniformed officers arrived in a marked police car. Evidently, they saw no nee
d for either flashing blue lights or two-tone alert.
Nevertheless, they arrived less than twenty minutes after Mrs Mason had made her emergency call. Those agonising minutes were the longest of her life. They quickly located Mrs Mason and asked questions about the disappearance of the young woman. One officer remained with the mother, while the other drove around the reservoir armed with a description of what she was wearing when leaving home over four hours before: walking boots, jeans, a black puffa jacket and a green cap, with a distinctive National Trust logo on the front. Owing to the now overcast and increasingly windy conditions, there were only three other cars parked close to the reservoir. Seeing the police officer return without Amy, Mrs Mason became distraught and began to cry.
*
Superintendent Edwards was at work in the main police station in Plymouth and was informed of the latest disappearance. His immediate and hopeful thoughts were they were simply dealing with a missing person who would shortly turn up. If she didn’t return he speculated to himself that this could be a copycat crime or, his worst fears, the work of a serial abductor.
In view of the relatively early hour in the day, unlike with Mary Cranson’s disappearance, he decided to adopt a wait-and-see approach, before initiating a full search and rescue operation. However, with the previous incident in mind, he instructed that Inspector King should be informed immediately. Shrewdly, he also ensured the other emergency services and the nearby Dartmoor Search and Rescue Team, as well as the police helicopter, be placed on standby: he hoped that none of them would be needed.
*
Following the call alerting them to the new disappearance, King and Harris left Ashburton and headed for Burrator Reservoir. As the crow flies, taking the non-existent direct route across the moor, it was no more than ten miles to the scene of the latest missing person, and would have taken them less than fifteen minutes. However, they had to drive to Two Bridges and then Princetown, before taking the road to the reservoir: the thirteen miles took them nearly twenty five minutes, delayed as they were by a tractor on the road.
Missing on Dartmoor Page 17