Part 11 (1/2)

'It has indeed,' agreed Ross. 'We'd better lay low until this evening.' He hefted the wooden case he was carrying. 'I've brought the Townsend.'

Abercrombie made a face. 'You going to have to use it?'

Ross sighed. 'I doubt I'll have any option but to kill,' he replied. They had reached the base of the stairs. Beyond was a door to the servants' quarters, and he could hear sounds of activity and voices through there, but this side was clear. He led the way out to the rear of the Hall, and then sprinted for the closest trees. A moment later, Abercrombie joined him. 'Until this evening, we'd better lay low,' he said. 'Meanwhile, how did your research fare?'

'Good and bad,' his companion answered sourly. 'Did you bring any food? I'm famished.'

'No, there was no time. About your findings?'

Abercrombie scowled at the news, and then smiled as he delivered his own. 'He's here,' he reported. 'At the factory.'

'Excellent,' Ross replied. 'Typical, isn't it? Only two possible locations, and I selected the wrong one.'

Abercrombie shrugged. 'Can't win them all,' he opined. 'So, do we go down to break in now?'

'Not just yet,' Ross replied. 'First things first. The factory can wait until the morning, I think.'

'What about me stomach?' asked Abercrombie, rubbing it as he spoke. 'I need food to keep going.'

'We could try getting a bite to eat at the local tavern,' Ross suggested.

'That might not be such a great idea,' his companion replied. 'That Doctor bloke and another geezer spotted me on the s.h.i.+p.'

Ross gave him a severe look. 'You're slipping up. But you're right. We'd best not go back to the village, in case they arrest you.'

Abercrombie looked wistful. 'Yeah. But they'd feed me.' With a deep, mournful sigh, he followed Ross into the woods.

'Maybe we can find you some nuts,' Ross suggested with a smile.

'Do I look like a ruddy squirrel?'

Sarah was just getting her appet.i.te when they arrived back at the tavern. There had been no sign of the Doctor or his companions at the barn, and even the body of old Ben Tolliver had vanished. Since the carriage was still waiting, Sarah realized that the Doctor was probably still investigating. As it was past noon, the tavern was open and several of the locals were already inside, pints and pipes in hand and mouth.

Jen Walker was there, collecting and refilling gla.s.ses. She nodded at the back room. 'Your mate's in there,' she said.

'Tucking into a pie.'

'What a marvellous idea,' said Kipling loudly.

'Come on,' Sarah said, realizing she was unlikely to be rid of her three shadows for a while. She crossed the smoke-filled lounge and moved into the slightly less smoky air of what pa.s.sed for a dining room. As the barmaid had said, the Doctor was there, cheerfully eating a large wedge of some kind of local pie. Sir Alexander and Doctors Doyle and Martinson were also enjoying a meal and a gla.s.s of wine.

'Ah, there you are,' the Doctor called out. 'And your cheering section, too.' He gestured at the empty seats about the large table. 'Make yourselves comfortable.'

'Absolutely,' said Kipling, s.n.a.t.c.hing up a spare plate and cutting himself a large chunk of the steaming pie. His two friends followed suit, and settled down to stuff their faces.

It was a good thing Sarah hadn't really been expecting better manners of them. She helped herself to a smaller piece of pie and sat beside the Doctor. 'So,' she asked conversationally, 'how was your morning?' Doyle pa.s.sed her a gla.s.s of the white wine, which she accepted gratefully. The pie was delicious, and as she ate she listened to the Doctor and Doyle recounting their findings. Then she told them other own escapades.

'You've done well, as always,' the Doctor said approvingly, as he cleaned his own plate. 'Smart move to win over young Billy like that.'

Doyle frowned. 'I think it's dashed irregular to use young urchins as agents,' he complained.

'But very wise,' the Doctor countered. 'People are used to seeing them about, and they can go places and listen in where an adult would be immediately suspected as a spy. And from the sound of things, young Billy is likely to turn up any amount of helpful information.'

'What concerns me, though,' Sir Alexander interjected, 'is all this stress you're laying on poor old Breckinridge. The man's merely a businessman who's helped out the village when he didn't have to. I feel certain that he's innocent of involvement.'

'He may be,' agreed Sarah. 'But unless we can check him out, we won't know for certain.' She gave the magistrate a winning smile. 'You know him; can't you arrange for him to allow us to visit the factory?'

Sir Alexander flushed slightly, obviously appreciating her attention. 'I can but try, young lady. When I get home later, I'll send a man around to ask.'

The Doctor nodded. 'We'll a.s.sume that Breckinridge agrees,' he commented. 'That means tomorrow at the soonest will be a visit to the factory.'

'Is that a problem?'

'No.' The Doctor gave another of his wide smiles. 'After all, tonight we go out hunting the beast of the moors.' He smiled at Doyle. 'Are you up to that, do you think?'

Doyle nodded eagerly. 'Wouldn't miss it for the world,' he announced. 'The game's afoot!'

5.

Hounded ir Alexander remained behind in the village when their late lunch was finished. Kipling, Beresford and Dunsterville Sreluctantly took their leave. Doctor Martinson shook the hands of the Doctor and Doyle before heading back to his own home to finish the death certificate on Tolliver. That left only Doyle to accompany the Doctor and Sarah back to Fulbright Hall.

As the coach ambled through the countryside, Sarah turned to the Doctor. 'Is any of this becoming clearer to you?' she asked.

'Not really,' he answered cheerfully. He had slouched down in the seat, the brim of his deerstalker pulled down over his eyes in an attempt to make it look as though he were sleeping. Sarah knew him too well to believe this ruse, and knew that he was merely attempting to avoid answering any questions she or Doyle might have.

'Do you have any idea what is going on here?' she persisted.

'I always have ideas,' he answered sombrely. 'But until I have more information, I'm not going to share them. If we can capture this beast tonight, then I'll be able to be more specific. Until then, all I have is theories.'

Doyle s.h.i.+fted eagerly in his own seat, opposite Sarah. 'What is this monstrous hound like?' he asked.

'Like a monstrous hound,' she answered. 'It's huge, and its mouth is filled with razor-sharp fangs. It's like nothing I've ever seen on Earth before.'

'Intriguing,' Doyle mused. 'An unearthly hound, eh? Sounds like the perfect idea for a story.'

Sarah couldn't hide a smile. 'Believe me, it is.' She gave one of the Doctors knees a poke. 'Oi, you going to be like this all the way back?'

'Yes, and probably much later,' the Doctor muttered through his hat. 'I'm sure you can amuse yourself until the hunt.'

'I'm sure I'll have to,' Sarah answered. He was in his usual taciturn mood again, and she knew he was feverishly thinking through what they had discovered so far, as well as planning their evening's escapades. She chatted pleasantly with Doyle about his adventures on the whaler, and his plans to enter private practice when he returned to Edinburgh.

As the coach rolled to a halt outside Fulbright Hall, Sarah was startled to see Sir Edward come running down the steps, his face ashen. Ignoring the footman's offered hand, she jumped down to the gravel. 'What's wrong?' she asked.