The Legacy (15 page)

Chapter 31

Sir James Briggs had spent a difficult twenty-four hours. He'd slept badly and had got up early to put Princess out for a pee and to re-read the file that Knowles had given him. There was no doubt in his mind that the evidence was compelling. There was also no doubt that there was a real opportunity here. He reached for the phone and searched for a number that he had never had cause to use before. It was answered almost immediately.

‘It's Jim Briggs, from the City of London Police. We need to meet as a matter of some urgency.'

He agreed a time and place that evening and hung up.

Chapter 32

Lunch at the Ring O'Bells had been excellent. Camilla and Ellie had had the steak sandwich whilst Sarah had tried the Caesar Salad. They'd shared a bottle of very decent Pinot Grigio and were now digging into sticky toffee pudding. Camilla was struck by how many people had come over and said hello to the girls. ‘Is it always so friendly?' asked Camilla.

‘Most of the time,' replied Sarah. ‘It's sometimes a bit less so at the weekends, particularly in the summer when it's full of tourists or the weekend crowd from London.'

‘They like us because we live here all year round,' added Ellie. ‘We pop in about twice a week and that seems to be enough to convince the regulars that we're serious about being part of the community, that and the fact that Sarah has started playing the piano for the local amateur dramatics group. That's made us, or rather Sarah, very popular recently.'

Camilla laughed. ‘Really?' she enquired.

‘Really,' said Ellie. ‘It started one evening in here actually. I'd popped in to get a few packets of crisps and I overheard the chap who runs the ‘am dram' group bemoaning the fact that his regular pianist, an elderly lady called Margo, had decided to leave the village to be near her grandchildren in Topsham. It's not far from Exeter but it's too far from here for her to drive up every week.'

‘What happened next?' asked Camilla, enjoying the story.

Sarah took over the narrative. ‘Ever the helpful villager, your friend Ellie kindly suggested that she had a friend, me of course, who might be interested in helping out until they found a more permanent solution.'

‘You could have said no,' said Ellie, laughing almost uncontrollably.

‘Yes, but it would have been difficult as you well know given the ‘am dram' group leader is a local publisher who also happens to be chairman of the governors at my school.'

Ellie was crying with laughter. She hadn't really meant to drop her friend in it. She realised that she should have discussed it with Sarah before she volunteered her services but, to her great credit, Sarah had taken it all in her stride and had duly paraded at the village hall for her first rehearsal. To her surprise, she'd enjoyed it hugely. The group was an interesting mixture of professionals, housewives, students, schoolchildren and workers from the local farms. They were very friendly and actually quite good. They were doing Gilbert and Sullivan's
Pirates of Penzance
. As well as being one of Sarah's favourite comic operas, she knew the music well as she'd been in a production whilst at university.

‘It's actually really good fun,' said Sarah. ‘As Ellie said, it's also been a really useful way to get to know the community. I suppose we were a bit worried when we started living together that people might disapprove of us. But if they do, they keep it to themselves.'

‘That's true,' added Ellie. ‘But I suspect it also helps that we're discrete. We don't sit here mooning over each other, for example.'

Camilla laughed. Having found Sarah, Ellie seemed much more at ease with her sexuality. She'd never been embarrassed about the fact that she was gay but she'd never advertised it either, preferring not to talk about it. It was good to see her being much more open.

After lunch, they went back to the house for coffee. There were no real plans for the afternoon but Ellie and Camilla were keen to clear rubbish from the stable block before the workmen started the following day. Ellie said that Camilla could borrow the Land Rover if she wanted to go and walk up Hay Tor. ‘Take Boot,' she suggested. ‘It'll do him the world of good to get some fresh air and you might enjoy the company.' The dog's ears pricked up at the mention of his name and his tail started to wag as Ellie threw his lead at Camilla.

‘Thanks Ellie, what a good idea.' She went upstairs to change into jeans and walking boots. She'd also brought her old Barbour and a woolly hat with her as she'd been caught out on the moor before and she had no intention of being wet and cold, even though the weather looked like it might hold. Ellie gave her the Land Rover's keys as she came downstairs. ‘I won't be long,' she said to Ellie. ‘I just want to walk to the top and look at the view. I might take a few pictures if the weather holds but I'm doing nudes at the moment, not landscapes, so don't worry!'

Ellie smiled. Their painting styles were so different that they had never really been in competition with each other, even when they were at college together. ‘But what if I starting doing nudes?' asked Ellie.

‘You won't,' replied Camilla. ‘You did one at college if you remem-ber and it ended up looking like the elephant man. Just remind me what the teacher said to you?'

‘Fuck off Camilla,' replied Ellie, throwing a tea towel at her. ‘He was half blind and didn't know his arse from his elbow.' In truth, Ellie had been experimenting with pop art and had tried to complete the picture using only dots of paint, like Roy Lichenstein had done in his famous picture of a pilot pulling the triggers of his machine guns. It wasn't a success and her teacher, a traditionalist who despised modern art, had been extremely critical, calling her a ‘talentless idiot.' That her talent was so obvious in everything else she did seemed to escape him.

Camilla and Boot got into the Land Rover and started down the hill towards the old stone bridge that led up towards the moor. It was drizzling slightly, enough to need the wipers every few minutes to clear the windscreen. The road was narrow and she had to keep pulling in to let traffic coming in the opposite direction get past her. She was content. She loved the moors with a passion. It was such a contrast to London and her normal life that the two places might have been on different planets. It also reminded her of her parents. Both now dead, she'd spent many happy weeks with them on Dartmoor during the school holidays, paddling in the rivers and walking over the hills. The road climbed its way onto the top of the moors and she pulled in to admire the view. To her left was Hound Tor, a loose collection of rocks and boulders on top of a small hill that provided an ideal proving ground for young climbers. There were usually one or two groups from local youth clubs or outdoor schools putting up ropes and practising their techniques before venturing onto the more challenging peaks. In the distance she could see Hay Tor. It was an unusual peak and from some angles looked like a giant version of the sort of ramp that water skiers would use to do jumps. A gentle slope led up from the car park to a sheer face which dropped about a hundred feet to the ground below. The face was a climbers' paradise. Its smoothness made it technically difficult but the easy approach on the reverse side meant that putting a rope on the top and then lowering it down the face was a straightforward business. She could see one or two pairs of climbers from the road. Their bright clothing stood out against the dark grey of the rock face. She'd tried climbing in her teens on a summer adventure camp when she was at school but she didn't really like it. She preferred walking to dangling on the end of a rope several hundred feet up a mountain.

The roads were still reasonably quiet as she turned into the Hay Tor car park. There were twenty or so other cars, most of which were parked near the information kiosk and toilets at the bottom end. She was a bit worried about Boot getting run over if he got loose so she drove to the far corner, away from the kiosk. She ruffled the dog's head as the Land Rover came to a stop. ‘This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship,' she said to the dog. ‘But you've got to behave yourself if you want to do this again.' She attached the lead to his collar and then got out of the car. As she walked round to open the passenger door to let Boot out, she saw another car pull into the car park and head towards the kiosk. Camilla put on her Barbour jacket, pulled her woolly hat down over her ears and opened the door to let the dog out of the car. It jumped down onto the grass and started to yap excitedly, wagging its tail and running round Camilla's legs. It took her a few minutes to untangle herself from the lead but once she started walking towards the hill, it started to calm down. The rain was getting heavier and a wind had started to blow across the hill. The weather was starting to close in and there were far more people coming down the hill than going up. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the feel of the rain on her face and the freshness of the air. She felt alive and glad to be out in the elements.

When she was halfway up, she turned round to admire the view. She could see the Land Rover in the car park below her but not much more. The weather was closing in and she realised that she'd have to hurry to get to the top if she wanted to be able to see anything when she got there. There was a single walker about two hundred feet away from her, also going up the hill. She couldn't see his features as he had his hood up and his head down to keep the rain off his face. ‘At least I'm not the only idiot going up rather than down in this weather,' she thought to herself, nodding to a couple who walked past her on their way down to the car park. She started back up the hill. Boot continued to strain on the lead. He was clearly enjoying being outside and in a new place with lots of interesting smells. His head was lowered and moved from side to side as he sniffed the grass. She increased her pace, stepping out to get to the top as quickly as possible. Eventually, the grassy slope ended and the rock began. The first part was a gentle scramble but she wanted to get right to the top and this involved using some old steps that had been cut into the rock years ago. She'd read somewhere that this had been done in the nineteenth century by a local stonemason called Alan Yabsley. She remembered the surname because it was so unusual. A metal handrail had also been added to allow the less energetic to enjoy the spectacular views that the summit provided, at least on a clear day. The handrail was long gone and the worn steps were now wet and slippery. But her boots had non-slip vibram soles and, provided she was careful, she was able to continue climbing up. She needed to use her hands occasionally to steady herself and, reasoning that it would be safer for both her and Boot if she let him off the lead, she stopped in the lee of a large boulder to unfasten him. As she turned round to unclip the lead, she noticed that the person she'd seen before was now at the foot of the rock and just about to start ascending the steps. She was pleased that she wasn't alone as the weather was deteriorating and it was beginning to feel increasingly desolate up on the peak. She knew that the Dartmoor weather was deceptively dangerous and that it could change in an instant. She'd read the
Hound of the Baskervilles
on her first visit and not quite believed Conan-Doyle's description of the thick mist which he'd observed could blanket the moor within a matter of minutes. Her scepticism had been dispelled on a subsequent visit when she'd found herself isolated from a group of friends having gone off to find a bit of privacy for an emergency pee.

‘Not far now,' she said to Boot, patting him on the rump as she unclipped his lead.

Freed at last, Boot shot off ahead, leaving Camilla to climb up after him. Eventually, she arrived at the top. There was a large flat slab of rock on which three or four people could stand. At one end was a large boulder which was wedged in place by five or six smaller ones. Through the drizzle, Camilla could see that a short length of climbing rope had been looped round the boulder. Another rope, which disappeared over the cliff edge, was attached to the loop by a metal karabiner. Camilla edged as close as she dared to the cliff edge to see if she could see the climbers. If she leaned over, she could just see the top of a helmet about twenty feet or so below her. She heard Boot barking but as she started to turn to see what he was barking at, she felt a tremendous push in the small of her back. She screamed as she started to fall over the edge of the cliff. Everything seemed to slow down. One minute she was on the rock slab and the next she was falling. Her body continued to turn as it fell over the edge and she saw the man who had pushed her. It was the same man who had followed her up the hill. He had his hood up but she could see his features clearly. He had brown eyes and unremarkable features. He just looked like an ordinary middle aged man. His eyes held hers. They were the hardest eyes she had ever seen. No compassion at all. And then she was gone, falling through the air with her arms flailing.

Chapter 33

E
llie was in the kitchen cooking supper when the phone rang. It was getting dark and she assumed it was Camilla phoning to tell her when she'd be home. She picked up the phone. A male voice asked her to confirm her name and then said that he was from the police. There had been an accident on Hay Tor involving somebody who might have been driving her Land Rover. Ellie's heart almost stopped. ‘Yes,' she said, ‘I lent it to a friend. Is she all right?' Ellie asked.

‘She's in Exeter hospital and she's unconscious but I understand she's stable,' replied the policeman.

‘What happened?' asked Ellie, sitting down at the kitchen table and reaching for a pen and paper.

‘It seems she might have lost her footing. She was apparently at the top of the Tor when she slipped and fell over the edge. The weather won't have helped. The rain's been getting heavier all afternoon and, what with the wind, the top will have been treacherous. Luckily for her, there were some climbers on the face checking that the rock was stable for a climbing course they're running at the weekend. She fell on one of them, which slowed her fall, but the chap couldn't hold her and she fell the rest of the way to the ground. If the ground hadn't been so wet from all the rain we've had, I suspect it would have been much worse.'

‘So she's alive?' asked Ellie.

‘Yes, but she has a broken leg, a dislocated shoulder and, as I said earlier, she's unconscious. We got her name from the credit cards in her wallet but we're trying to chase up her next of kin. You don't have an address or a phone number for them do you?'

‘No I don't. Her parents are both dead. I think she has a brother but they don't see each other and I certainly don't have his details. I think I might be the closest thing she has to a next of kin, certainly in this country. She's staying with me at the moment. How did you get my number?'

‘From the Vehicle Licensing Agency,' replied the policeman. ‘We checked the registration of the Land Rover against their database and it gave us your details.'

Ellie asked a few more questions to confirm which hospital Camilla was in and which ward she was on. Just as she was about to put the phone down, she remembered why Camilla had come down to Dartmoor in the first place.

‘One more thing Constable,' she said, ‘it may be nothing but my friend came to stay with me because she thought she was being followed. Whilst she was staying with a friend of hers in London, he had a tragic accident and died. Ever since then she's felt as though someone has been watching her. If what she's saying is true - and I've no reason to doubt her - then this might not have been an accident. Someone might have pushed her.'

The policeman listened. Ellie could tell by his lack of response that he wasn't convinced. No doubt he felt that she was just another idiot tourist. It happened every year. Ill-equipped people getting themselves into trouble because they failed to appreciate just how quickly the weather on Dartmoor can change.

‘I can tell by your silence that you don't believe me but please at least think about it. My friend knew Hay Tor well. She's been up it hundreds of times and in all weathers. I don't think she'd have just fallen off. Were there any witnesses?' asked Ellie.

‘No,' replied the policeman. ‘The climbers were about halfway down the face and didn't see anything until your friend quite literally landed in their laps. Nobody saw anything from the car park because the visibility was so bad. Except for the climbers, it seems that your friend was the only person on the Tor.'

‘But please check with the London police about her being followed. I'm sure they knew,' pleaded Ellie.

The policeman said that he would. He also said that they'd found a dog that appeared to be with Camilla and that they had collected the Land Rover from the car park as the keys had been in her pockets when she fell. They offered to drop both off at Ellie's house to save her collecting them.

Ellie thanked them and went to find Sarah. She had an uneasy feeling about this and she wanted Sarah to give her a lift to the hospital. The sooner she was with Camilla, the happier she'd be. She also thought that she'd track Harry down and ask his advice. She knew that he and Camilla were no longer together but Harry was tough, capable and no doubt still cared for Camilla. If anyone could help her work out what to do, she knew it would be Harry.