the countryside in snow and ice. He braced himself for the cold and settled forward, putting his weight on his hands. He crawled through the brush, out into the darkness, keeping his head down. The glow from the dual lanterns didn’t penetrate as far as he’d hoped. He was as good as blind.
“Hoy, Mr Hammersmith, you’ve drifted off to the left a bit there, sir.”
Hammersmith adjusted course, surprised that Grimes’s voice sounded so close. He really hadn’t gone as far off the path as he’d assumed. His legs already felt frozen from the knees down. It was quite clear to him that a lost little boy might not survive a single night in the wilderness, and Hammersmith found himself hoping once again that Oliver Price was somewhere warm and dry with his parents.
He raised his head and a sharp branch scraped across his face, from his hairline to his chin. He dropped again and covered his head. Snow plopped down from above as the branch sprang back into position. Hammersmith dabbed at his cheek and felt something wet, but couldn’t tell if he was bleeding or wet with snow.
“It’s right there, Mr Hammersmith. No, there. Reach out with your right hand.”
Hammersmith groped about him until his fingers touched something wet and slimy. It was fabric of some sort. He grabbed the nearest edge and backed quickly out of the narrow tunnel he’d made with his body, dragging the cloth.
“Here you go, man,” Grimes said. “All’s well.”
Hammersmith felt Grimes’s hands on the back of his jacket, pulling him along, lifting him up. He stood and shook twigs out of his hair, wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand. The lanterns were swinging side by side from a nearby tree branch.
“That’s a lad, that’s a fine lad.” Grimes brushed Hammersmith’s clothing, clumsily patting the leaves and mud off his uniform. Hammersmith grinned and ran a hand through his unkempt hair.
“I’d like to wait for daylight before attempting that again,” he said.
“No need, sir,” Grimes said. “If there’s to be a next time, I believe it will be my turn. But if you don’t mind, I hope there won’t be a next time.”
“Don’t blame you a bit.”
“Nasty scratch you’ve got there, though.”
“It’s nothing. Let’s see what we have.”
Grimes took the dripping wad of fabric from Hammersmith, who rubbed his hands together and blew into them, trying to warm his fingers. Grimes held up the cloth and stretched it out between his hands. He moved so that the lantern light shone directly on, and through, the fabric. It was an article of clothing. Hammersmith identified a short sleeve, bordered by torn lace. Amid the dark streaks and blotches that stained the cloth, he picked out traces of a subtle floral pattern. It was impossible to make out colors, but the black marks were clearly not any part of the natural design of the thing.
“It’s a dress,” Grimes said.
“A child’s dress.”
“It’s awfully small.”
“Does it look familiar to you, Mr Grimes?”
“Familiar in what way?”
“Have you seen anyone wearing this?”
“I’m sure I don’t have any idea who might have worn this. Maybe in better light. .”
“Well, it’s certain Mrs Price never wore this.”
“Not within the past twenty years, I’d say.”
“What about Oliver?”
“Oliver’s a boy.”
“But could it be a baptism gown or nightshirt or somesuch?”
“Ah, I suppose it might be. But the lace? And the flowers?”
“Rather feminine.”
“Indeed.”
“Those black spots and this.” Hammersmith pointed to a large dark patch near the midsection of the little dress and moved his finger down to the hem where a chunk of lace had been torn out.
“That’s blood, sir. I’d stake my career on it.”
“I agree.”
“And that means we’re looking for someone else entirely.”
“Mr and Mrs Price, little Oliver, and a girl.”
“What is happening in my village, Mr Hammersmith?”
“Something evil. The children here may be in great danger.”
“Rawhead.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That silly rhyme comes to mind. Nothing, really. Blackhampton’s always been so quiet. One of the things I like about it, really.”
Hammersmith nodded, but there was nothing more to say. The case had just become even more urgent. Grimes folded the dress, squeezing out the excess water, and they each took a lantern from the branch behind them.
“Should we keep looking?” Grimes said.
“I believe we’d better. It’s more important than ever.”
Grimes closed his eyes and sighed. Hammersmith didn’t wait for him to follow. He plunged back down the path, headed farther into the forest. A moment later, he heard Grimes at his heels.
They had not gone more than five or six yards into the woods when Hammersmith stopped and held up the lantern.
“What is it?” Grimes said.
“Listen.”
The two men stood quietly, their breathing shallow, and waited. Grimes motioned to get Hammersmith’s attention and pointed off to their left. Hammersmith heard the muffled crack of a twig breaking and then the wet slap of a leafy branch.
“Who’s there?” he said.
A voice answered from the darkness beside the path, almost at their elbows.
“It’s me, Campbell. Say something else. Guide me to you.”
“We’re here, sir. Right here. Do you see the lanterns?”
“Ah, there you are.”
Campbell stepped out from under the trees and let out a deep breath. His shaggy grey hair was mussed and full of leaves, and the shoulder of his jacket was torn. A long streak of mud ran from his left hip to his ankle. He shook Hammersmith’s hand.
“I slipped down an incline of some sort. Didn’t see it in the dark and then got hopelessly turned around. It’s a lucky break for me you hollered out when you did or I’d have been lost in there forever.”
It was the most Hammersmith had heard the big man say, but he understood. It was easy to lose one’s composure under the dark silent trees.
“Where’s Inspector Day?”
Campbell blinked and looked all round them at the path and the trees, as if Day might suddenly swing down and land among them.
“I’d actually hoped he was with you.”
“You left him?”
“I thought I saw something in the woods and circled round to investigate. When I returned to the spot where we were standing, Mr Day was gone. I struck out in pursuit, but got turned around myself.”
“What did you think you saw?” Grimes said.
“It was nothing.”
“It must have been something if you left Inspector Day in the woods,” Hammersmith said. “Let’s find him before he freezes to death out here. And then I’ll want to have a word with you, Mr Campbell.”
