prefer the coast road, although it’s the longer way to Castercombe from Axehead.’
‘Nobody goes that way after sunset? Makes it an ideal place for a murder, doesn’t it? According to the doctors, death had occurred the night before the body was found. The two men must have met by arrangement and both wanted the transaction kept secret, I reckon.’
‘Brings us back to the Watersmeet business. According to Adams, two men or a man and a woman met in the Rants’ garden before the household was stirring. It is more than possible that the man found dead in the river later in the day was one of them.’
‘Sounds like people who knew the Rants’ garden
‘And knew that Watersmeet would most likely be deserted so early in the morning. It sounds like three assignations: one in the Rants’ garden, one at Watersmeet, and this one in Rocky Valley — and the last two with unsuspecting victims. What do you think about one of the Rant sisters? We are already keeping an eye on that dog-woman of theirs. All three women are out every day with those hounds and must know the countryside like the backs of their hands.’
11
Scalpels
« ^ »
The valley indeed had a sinister reputation. Robin Goodfellow was not the first to have met with a violent death there. At one time the distance between Castercombe and Axehead, then a flourishing port, could be covered only on foot or on horseback, since no coach could cope with the descent or ascent from what became the village of Abbots Crozier after Abbots Bay needed to expand.
There was a coast road between Castercombe and Axehead, but the journey was a long one, and during the old coaching days before the sea wall was heightened and improved the thoroughfare was often under water. The valley was sheltered and the road through it was always passable, although the surface was very rough and travellers carried weapons. But, even in those times, nobody risked the valley after dark for there were stories of attacks, some of them fatal, by highway bands who emerged suddenly from behind the jagged and fantastically shaped outcroppings of rock. It was commonly held that there were ghostly as well as human agencies to be feared.
One exception had been a party of amateur ghost-hunters, but, although they were reticent about their experiences, most of them declared that they would not care to brave the valley again after nightfall.
At Hallowe’en and at other times which were kept secret, the local witches held a meeting in the valley and fearful happenings ensued.
However, it was far from dark when, on the morning following the visit of the police and the sisters Rant to the Stone House, Dame Beatrice and Laura, having booked lunch at the Headlands hotel, drove westwards towards Cowlass Hill and Castercombe.
‘Well,’ said Laura, ‘from what little we were told, it doesn’t seem that Goodfellow was killed all that far from the village. Hullo! We are not the only seekers after truth, it seems.’
Three police cars were parked off the road and not far from them were a couple of caravans and some tents. Uniformed policemen and what appeared to be a troop of Guides were searching the heather and beating down the bracken. Directing operations was a police inspector, also in uniform. The police were in shirt-sleeves, for the day was already warming up.
Laura parked the car just off the road and she and Dame Beatrice got out. A little knot of idlers, probably holiday-makers, was watching the scene from the roadside. Laura and Dame Beatrice joined them. The inspector came up.
‘Nobody to leave the roadside,’ he said.
‘Then what are the Guides doing among the local vegetation?’ asked Laura.
Before the inspector could reply, Dame Beatrice presented her official card. His authoritative attitude changed. Having been introduced to Laura, he led them away from the sightseers and said, ‘My apologies, madam. Only trying to keep the general public off our pitch, although what they think they’re going to see, goodness knows.’ He turned to Laura. ‘The Girl Guides are helping us, ’ he said. ‘They stick at a dull job better than boys do, and don’t go skylarking about. They had permission to camp here, so we thought we’d make them useful.’
‘They were not camping here at the time of the incident, of course?’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘Came from Bristol about an hour ago. They’re helping us look for the murder weapon, although we don’t call it that. I don’t think anything will turn up. If the murderer has any sense, he’ll have taken the weapon away with him and disposed of it elsewhere.’
‘Were the caravans here when it happened?’ asked Laura.
‘No, Mrs Gavin, they are ours. We’re keeping a round-the-clock watch on this part of the valley in case anything emerges.’
‘Including the murderer?’
‘Well, you never know.’
‘I wonder the Guide leader likes the idea of having a camp so near the scene of a pretty horrible crime.’
‘The young lady didn’t know about it until I took her aside and told her. Anyway, we are moving them on this afternoon. Found them a much better site in a farmer’s field at the foot of Cowlass Hill. When they turned up here, I thought it better to let them into the area and make themselves useful, especially as we no longer needed to cordon off the area once the body had been photographed and removed.’
‘Well,’ said Laura to Dame Beatrice, as they walked back to the car, ‘at least we know where it happened.’
‘And, thanks to the courtesy of the police force, we know when. Susan, according to what the Rant sisters told
