With the overcast sky and the close-planted, tall conifers, the light at ground level was poor and though Daniel could see enough to avoid falling over tree stumps and into drainage ditches, the track he was following disappeared into the gloom both in front and behind.
In addition to his anxiety about Taz, his head throbbed with a dull ache and the pain in his knee was causing him to limp heavily. He cursed the Driscoll family with every step he took.
At the end of the first track, he was confronted by a T-junction and came to a halt, dredging his woolly mind for any scraps of memory that might give him a clue as to which way to turn. The track stretched away to either side with no identifying features but, even if there had been any, Daniel had been in no fit state to notice them for much of the outward journey.
To his left, a three-quarter moon showed intermittently between the racing clouds, whereas to the right there was a faint orange glow through and above the trees, which might have been the lights of a distant town or …
Daniel cut the thought off short. It couldn’t be that, surely. A burning car would certainly produce a glow but not enough to light up the sky. Would it?
Without conscious decision, he turned in the direction of the glow and hobbled on. The rain was fitful now but the wind still gusted strongly, rushing and howling through the forest canopy. Other smaller turnings came and went and then a fork in the track where he chose the left option, following nothing more than instinct and a vague feeling that he should keep the moon behind him.
He didn’t know how much time had elapsed since Johnny Driscoll had left him in the forestry hut but he knew with a heart-wrenching certainty that Taz’s fate had by this time been decided one way or another and was completely out of his hands. He was now driven by the need to know, to be put out of the misery of apprehension.
The fog of exhaustion and depression was made all the worse by the knowledge that he might very well be moving further away from the answer with every step. Stumbling, his injured knee gave way and Daniel rolled and found himself sitting on the running wet gravel with, for the moment, no energy to get up. He looked ahead of him between the two walls of straight-trunked fir trees. It was darker now and the glow he had seen earlier had disappeared.
Had he unwittingly changed direction?
Twisting round he looked back. No; there was the pale reflected light of the moon, just showing behind the scudding rain clouds. So the fiery glow he’d been moving towards had died down or been extinguished, and that could only mean one thing. Driscoll had carried out his threat to torch the car.
Oh God, Taz! Daniel groaned out loud.
Big, strong, loyal, clumsy, graceful, goofy, protective and needy all in one; his dog, his partner and his best friend. He would never see him or sink his fingers into that thick soft fur again. As the realization hit him, Daniel closed his eyes and wanted to die.
After what could have been minutes but may only have been seconds, Daniel found himself lying on the cold wet gravel, his face cradled in the curve of one arm, and forced himself to face facts. Dying wasn’t an option, however enticing it might momentarily have seemed. As he pulled himself together, the need for revenge came searing through the misery, giving him a reason to get back on his feet and carry on. He had promised Johnny Driscoll he would pay if he harmed the dog and pay he would, no matter how long it took or what the cost to Daniel, himself.
Driven by renewed purpose, Daniel gritted his teeth and pushed himself up to his hands and one knee, pausing there to get his balance.
Above the howl of the gale a whisper of sound reached his ears only a split-second before something hit him from behind with a force like a freight train.
Daniel’s face impacted on the gravel yet again and he grunted as the breath was driven from his lungs. His first, barely coherent thought, even though it defied logic, was that Johnny Driscoll had lain in wait to finish him off. But this was banished an instant later by something cold and wet pushing roughly under his cheek, attempting to lift his face from the ground, followed by a warm gusty breath huffing in his left ear. Definitely not any of the Driscolls.
‘Taz?’ His incredulous query seemed to please the dog, who renewed his efforts to raise Daniel’s head with his muzzle, whining and whistling under his breath, all the while. He was down on his belly in the wet, frantically trying to lick every portion of bare skin he could find and Daniel rolled over onto his back, flung his arms around the wet fur of the shepherd’s ruff and hugged him as if he would never let go.
‘How’d you get free, you old bugger?’ he demanded of the dog. ‘I thought I’d lost you! Oh God! It takes ten years off my life every time!’
Taz pulled out of Daniel’s embrace and tried to lick his face again, padding round him on the wet gravel of the track, his bushy tail waving as his body bent first one way then the other in his ecstasy.
Finally, laughing, Daniel pushed the dog away.
‘OK. Give over now, lad – we’ve got bad guys to catch. Though how we’re going to do that without a car and no phone to call anyone, I’m not sure.’
Back on his feet, one of his problems, at least, was solved; told to ‘Find the car’, Taz set off down the track with no hesitation and Daniel wished, not for the first time in his life, that his own sense of direction was as good as the dog’s.
Judging by the short time it took them to reach the two fallen trees, it seemed that Daniel’s sense of direction hadn’t, after all, been too badly at fault. However, his injured knee made progress slower than both he and the dog would have liked; the dog showing his impatience by continually running a few yards ahead, then stopping and looking back, before returning to circle round behind Daniel’s heels in what he no doubt felt was an encouraging manner.
When the car park finally came into view ahead, a faint flickering glow still remained as testament to the fate of Daniel’s car but what brought him to a halt on the edge of the open space was not the sight of the smouldering wreck but the lights of another vehicle and the silhouettes of two figures moving about in front of it.
Before he even had time to guess at their significance, Taz was running forward, giving full voice to his indignation that anyone should approach his car, no matter what state it was in.
Following on the dog’s heels, through the broken remains of a wooden barrier, Daniel heard, above the ever-present rushing of the wind in the trees, not the cries of alarm that often greeted the German shepherd’s approach, but an exclamation of delight in an unmistakably feminine voice.
‘Taz? Look! It’s Taz! Thank God! Where’ve you been? Where’s Daniel?’
Surprised and a little dismayed, Daniel identified Zoe Myers and then, incredibly, Lorna, standing with her arm round her daughter.
‘I’m here,’ he called out as he drew closer. ‘The question is, where the hell did you come from?’
‘Daniel! Thank God! Are you OK? What happened? Your face – that looks nasty!’
‘The Driscolls happened,’ he said wearily. ‘Where’s Shane?’
‘I’m here!’ Shane came round from the other side of the sad wreck that was the Mercedes. ‘Where did you pop up from? When we first saw the car we were afraid you’d been in it.’
Apparently recognizing the newcomers, Taz had fallen quiet and now returned to Daniel’s side, pushing his head into his hand.
‘It’s a long story, which we haven’t got time for now.’ He glanced at the vehicle which stood, engine idling and headlights illuminating the burnt-out car, falling rain and trees at the edge of the car park.
‘We got your message,’ Lorna said. ‘Or rather, Zoe did, but as I had the car, we all came.’
‘So what happened? Was it Billy?’ Shane asked.
‘Yeah, Billy and the rest of them.’
‘Johnny, too?’ In the lights of the car, Daniel saw puzzlement on the lad’s face. ‘So what happened? We came as soon as we could and did go to Bovey Trent but of course by the time we got there we were too late and you had gone. We couldn’t get you on your phone, so we’ve been driving around looking for you. We were just about to give up when we saw the car, but if it hadn’t been on fire, we wouldn’t have seen it even then.’
‘So it wasn’t you that let Taz out?’
‘No, we’ve only just got here. I think it took a long time for your message to get through,’ Lorna said. ‘The signal is dipping in and out all the time and the power lines are down all over the place. There was a power cut at the pub when we got there. But, Daniel – what’s this all about? Something about greyhounds, Shane said, but I still don’t really understand.’
Daniel glanced at the Traveller, wondering, not for the first time, just how much he knew or had guessed. Whatever the answer, he obviously hadn’t confided in Zoe or her mother.
‘It’s a bit complicated,’ Daniel hedged. ‘Basically, they wanted me out of the way. I’m sorry, I haven’t got time to explain now, but I’m afraid I’m going to need the Land Rover.’
He turned and limped towards it.
‘But what about your car?’ Lorna exclaimed as she and the others hurried in his wake.
‘I don’t think that’s going anywhere,’ Daniel observed wryly.
‘No, but I mean …’ Lorna’s voice trailed away to nothing as she apparently realized that she didn’t really know what she meant.
‘Where are we going? Billy’s?’ Shane asked, as Daniel put his hand on the open door of the Land Rover.
‘Yep, and as quick as we can.’
‘So, what’s going on? Why are we going to the kennels?’ Zoe demanded, as Shane slipped into the passenger seat beside Daniel.
‘Where’s Taz? Is he in?’ Daniel asked, ignoring her questions.
‘Yes, here. In the back with us,’ Lorna said.
‘Right, well strap yourselves in,’ Daniel advised. ‘I’m going to have to put my foot down!’
Reversing at speed, Daniel swung the Land Rover round and drove out of the forest car park in a spray of wet gravel and pine needles, turning right as its wheels hit the tarmac and accelerating through the gears like a racing driver. The vintage off-roader shuddered and vibrated at the unaccustomed treatment and Daniel caught sight of the nervous faces of his back-seat passengers in the rear-view mirror.
‘It’s OK,’ he told them. ‘I know what I’m doing.’
Although it was now raining heavily once more and there was a certain amount of storm debris lying in the lane, the journey to Driscoll’s kennels was mercifully unimpeded by any fallen trees or any significant depth of flood water and they made good time.
Unwilling to place Zoe and Lorna in danger, Daniel parked the Land Rover on the side of the road close to the footpath he had explored that afternoon. He turned the ignition off and for a moment there was silence except for the rush and patter of the wind and rain, and the ticking of the hot engine starting to cool.
‘Bloody hell!’ Lorna exclaimed shakily.
‘Sorry,’ Daniel said, flashing the ladies a grin. ‘It was probably worse in the back. Now, look – it’s important that you stay here. If we’re seen, it could spoil everything and there’s no cover out there.’
‘But why? What’s going on?’ This, predictably, was Zoe. ‘You can’t just order us about without telling us anything. It’s so not fair!’
‘For God’s sake, shut up, Zoe! Just do as you’re bloody told!’ Daniel snapped, pain and fatigue making his temper precarious.
‘She’ll stay,’ Lorna assured him. ‘Just be careful, will you? There’s a torch under the dash.’
Daniel flashed her a grateful look.
‘Thanks,’ he said, locating it. ‘And yeah, I’ll try.’
He opened the door and slid out, aware of Shane doing the same on the other side. Without waiting to be invited, Taz scrambled between the front seats and slipped out of the door before Daniel shut it. Without a word, Daniel led the way towards the overgrown stile, keeping the beam of the torch pointing at the road.’
‘So, what are we doing here, exactly?’ Shane asked.
‘Hoping to surprise them but I’m afraid we may well be too late. I’ll tell you as we go.’
‘What happened to your leg?’
‘Your ex-boss stomped on it, charmer that he is,’ Daniel replied, grasping the top rail and pulling himself up. The rain was hammering down and the wind whipped the trailing bramble runners into a cat o’ nine tails. ‘Do you really have no idea what we’re doing here?’
‘Well, I’m guessing it’s not just about the dogs, is it?’
‘No. I wish it were.’
‘What has Billy done this time?’
Daniel half stepped and half slithered off the slanting step of the stile, cursing as his bad knee almost gave way beneath him.
‘You remember the watch we saw at the pawnbroker’s? The one Zoe thought she recognized.’
‘Yeah, of course.’ Shane said, following Daniel over the broken stile with ten times more grace.
‘Well, she was right. It was Harvey’s.’
‘It was? How do you know? Have the cops found it?’
They had started to trudge along the hedge line, between the blackthorn and the electric fence, where the slight indentation of the footpath was ankle deep in water.
‘No. Apparently the guy at the pawnbroker’s gave Johnny the heads up about our interest and disposed of the watch before the police arrived.’
‘So, how did he know it was anything to do with Johnny?’
‘Well, from what I heard, it sounds as though Davy took it in, so I guess he made the connection.’
‘Davy?’
‘Yeah.’
‘But how did he get hold of Harvey’s watch?’
‘That’s what we need to find out. I have my suspicions but no proof, as yet.’
‘Well, if Davy did pawn the watch, it will have been because Billy told him to. Davy does as he’s told. Billy can do no wrong in his eyes; he’s got him totally under his thumb.’
‘When we visited the kennels, I got the impression Davy was scared of his brother.’
‘Yeah, he is, but he’s even more scared of upsetting him and being turned out on the street.’
‘Is that what Billy threatens him with? Bastard!’
‘Don’t think he ever would, though,’ Shane said. ‘Sometimes I think he needs Davy just as much as Davy needs him.’
‘You reckon?’ Daniel was surprised at the youngster’s level of insight.
‘He’s a bully. Bullies need someone to bully.’
They had reached the second stile now, where earlier, Daniel had cut the barbed wire that ran above the rails. Telling Taz to stay back, he switched the torch off, climbed over and moved just far enough forward to enable him to see past the overgrown hedge into the field.
It was empty. No lights showed and even with the limited available light, he could see that if the Driscolls had indeed been there since leaving Daniel in the woods, they were not there now.
Daniel strained his eyes to scan the waterlogged plough, but although he could make out the boundaries, detail was lost in the gloom.
A low whistle brought Taz to his side, and within moments he had sent the dog off on a mission to quarter the field for any sign that the Driscolls had been there.
Half a minute later, the dog began to bark. Daniel followed his ears and soon saw Taz sitting about fifty feet away and close to the hedge on their left. He had found something.
Stepping over the electric fence, Daniel headed his way as quickly as he could over the waterlogged plough, aware of Shane toiling at his side.
‘Damn! Too bloody late!’ Daniel swore.
‘For what?’
He switched the torch on, pointing it to where the dog was waiting.
‘Look.’
Shane squinted into the driving rain, his black hair plastered to his skull like a shining cap and water running off his nose and chin.
‘What am I supposed to be looking at?’ he asked.
‘Over there, where Taz is. Someone has been digging.’
‘Burying something?’
‘Or digging something up. Or somebody …’
‘Somebody?’ Shane echoed, turning to look at Daniel.
‘Someone who’d lost everything on a bet gone wrong and blamed Billy, perhaps?’
Shane’s eyes widened as the meaning of Daniel’s words sank in.
‘Oh God! You don’t mean …? Shit! I hope you’re wrong.’
‘So do I, believe me,’ Daniel said grimly. ‘But I don’t think I am. Come on, we might as well go and check it out, now we’ve got this far.’
Together, he and Shane set off over the heavy clay furrows once more towards the site of the disturbance. Drawing closer, it became obvious that Daniel’s surmise had been right; someone had been digging. Taz was marking a hole, roughly five feet by three and already almost completely full of water, beside which were lumps and slabs of shining wet clayey earth.
Close by, there were one or two other, shallower holes, as if those excavating had been unsure exactly where to dig. A single tyre track less than four inches wide led away from the side of the hole and off towards the far hedge. Possibly a wheelbarrow track, Daniel thought, though it couldn’t have been easy either pushing or pulling it over the muddy ground.
With a word of praise, he released the dog and shone the torch over the area.
In each of the pits, from just below the surface of the soil and disappearing down into the waterline, the earth was densely criss-crossed with a myriad of thin white sticks and stones and it was a moment before Daniel fully realized what he was looking at.
Bones.