Murder on the Hour (11 page)

“Michael, I'm very sorry, but I've got to go after her. I haven't really thought this through, but it looks to me as if someone might have taken Catrin's quilt from the house. And then for some reason they threw it away or dumped it where Dilys found it. How else could she have got hold of it? Why would they do that? Whatever happened, I think that quilt is critical to finding out what happened to Catrin, and I can't let it just disappear. And besides, the police are looking for it.”

Michael hesitated just long enough for Penny to reassure him that if he didn't want to come with her, she understood perfectly.

“Well, if you're going after her, I'm coming with you,” he replied.

“We'd better get after her, then,” said Penny. “We've given her enough of a head start.”

They set off at a steady pace. Dilys had crossed the road and darted up a natural footpath flanked on both sides by scrawny larch trees, their new, needle-like leaves a bright green, and luxurious Scots pines, the fresh growth at the end of their branches overhanging the path.

“How old do you think she is, by the way?” Michael asked.

“In her early seventies, I would guess. Or maybe she just looks older than she is. Or maybe she's older than she looks. There's no telling with her.”

“Well, there we are, then. How far or fast can she walk?”

“Oh, you'd be surprised. Prepare yourself. Farther and faster than you might think. We're in her world now.”

 

Fifteen

“There are so many paths in this forest, we'll have a job keeping her in our sights,” Penny panted after about ten minutes of steady uphill walking on the rough dirt path bordered by large rocks. “We could easily lose her.”

“We could,” said Michael, “and we could easily get lost ourselves. That's starting to worry me. I have no idea what direction we're going in, or where we are.”

“I think this path leads to several small lakes, and hopefully when we reach them, we can pick up enough reception to ring the police. We only have to follow her until we can let the police know where she is.”

“We aren't very well prepared for this, are we?” said Michael. “We've got nothing to eat and no water.”

They continued to pick their way along the rocky path, managing to keep Dilys's quilt-covered back in view. Finally, her pace slackened and they began to gain on her.

“What are we actually going to do?” said Michael. “Are we just going to watch where she goes or do we want to catch up with her?”

“Just keep her in view,” said Penny. “She knows we're following her and if she changes her mind about talking to us, she'll stop.” She tried her phone again. “No signal yet. Hopefully when we get out in the open we'll be able to get through.” She slipped the phone back into her jacket pocket and they plowed on. The path was part of an extensive network used by mountain bikers, with an occasional steep drop. Some sections were easy going, others more strenuous. Occasional smaller paths converged or crossed the path they were on.

Dilys was now walking much more slowly and Penny and Michael were glad of the chance to slacken their pace. Although some daylight remained, the sun was starting to slant across the sky, indicating the afternoon was slipping away, The earlier blue sky had changed to a glowering grey. Michael frowned at it. “I hope it won't rain. We haven't got any waterproofs and I really don't fancy getting back to the car soaking wet. If we can even find the car, that is.”

“It can't be much farther,” Penny said. “We'll reach one of the lakes in a few minutes, I'm sure.”

And then, they emerged from the protective cover of the forest canopy into an open area. Spread out below them was a small lake. They paused for a moment to admire it, but when they turned, Dilys had vanished.

“Oh, no,” wailed Penny. “She can't have. Not after all this.”

“She can't have gone far,” said Michael. “If we hurry, we should be able to spot her.”

And then Penny saw it. Slung over a stone wall, abandoned, was the quilt.

They hurried toward it looking in all directions, but Dilys had vanished like a puff of chimney smoke borne away on an autumn breeze.

“Well, at least we've got the quilt,” said Penny. “Let's see if we can get any reception here.” She reached into her jacket pocket and a questioning look of astonishment flashed across her face. She tried the other pocket, then plunged her hands into the pockets of her jeans, then searched every pocket again. “My phone,” she wailed. “I've lost it. It must have fallen out of my pocket somewhere on the trail.” She shot him a desperate look. “Have you got yours?” Michael shook his head. “Left it in the car, I'm afraid.”

“Well, let's get the quilt, and then head back. The last thing we want is to be up here after dark. We'll leave Dilys for the police to sort out. She's their problem now; they can deal with her,” said Penny as they approached the stone wall. With a quick coordinating glance at each other they each took one end and raised the quilt off the wall in a smooth gesture, being careful not to snag it on the rough stone. When it was free, they laid it gently on the grass. It would drape over the sides of a single bed, but barely cover the top of a double bed.

Penny felt the seams and discovered that a side seam had been torn open near the top.

“This is interesting,” she said. “When the evaluator was examining the quilt she ran her hand along here and then had a puzzled look on her face. She said something to Catrin but I wasn't close enough to hear what she said. I wonder if there was something in here.”

“Well, never mind that now. Let's fold it up and get going,” said Michael. “It'll take us at least an hour to get back to the car and it'll be darker on the path than it is out here because of the tree cover. We'll have to hope there'll be enough light for us to spot your phone.” He swallowed and held his hand to his throat. “I really wish we had some water. I'm parched.”

“So am I,” said Penny. She looked around one last time for Dilys, but there was no trace of her. The late afternoon light was intensifying and thinning at the same time, signaling the rapid approach of dusk.

“We're almost at the golden hour of light just before sunset,” Penny remarked. “We've got about sixty minutes left. And you're so right. It's time we got out of here.”

 

Sixteen

With Michael carrying the bundled up quilt, they retraced their steps along the rugged mountain bike path that had brought them to the lakeside clearing. Michael had been right; it was darker under the canopy of trees. They picked their way carefully along, mindful of the occasional steep drop and sharp rocks that bordered the path.

“We should reach the car soon,” said Michael. “Almost there. We'll have earned a really good dinner.”

The last mellow rays of a sinking sun filtered through the tree branches, bathing them in a soft, dying light. Penny's skin glowed with a warm radiance and Michael reached out and took her hand. And then, the tranquility of the moment was broken by loud shouts coming from behind them.

“Oi, oi, out the way,” yelled the first of two youths on speeding mountain bikes. Michael managed to push Penny over the rocks and into the safety of the foliage flanking the path as the first of the bikes flew past them, its helmeted rider standing on the pedals and leaning over the handlebars. But he was not so lucky with the second bike that hit him as it careened past. Penny caught a glimpse of the scowling face on the biker as he struggled to keep his balance, but he managed to recover and the cyclists disappeared, without stopping or looking back.

“Oh, no,” cried Penny as Michael lay on the path, bleeding from his head. She put her arm around him and helped him sit up.

“That's a nasty cut you've got there and we've got nothing to put on it. Can I help you up?”

He rubbed his left leg. “Just give me a minute,” he said. “I'm feeling a bit dizzy.”

Penny waited. A few minutes later he reached for her hand and she tried to help him up. He winced as a look of pain flashed across his face and he sank back to a crumpled sitting position.

“I don't think I can walk,” he groaned. “I've done something to my leg.”

“I don't know what to do,” said Penny. “I don't want to leave you here, but the best thing for me to do might be to get to your car as quickly as I can and find your phone so I can call for help before dark.”

Michael looked at the sky. The golden haze had now darkened to a deep, smoky violet. “I'm not sure you could get there before dark and without a torch, I think it's too risky. You could easily get lost if you somehow got off the main path. At least if we stay together, I wouldn't have to worry about you.”

“Oh, what a mess I've landed us in,” moaned Penny. “I'll bet you're desperately wishing you'd never agreed to come. We've got nothing to eat, no water, no light, no warm clothes, and it's too late for anyone else to come along now.” She made a tight fist. “Those damn, inconsiderate kids! He must have known he'd hit you and then to just ride off without even bothering to stop and ask if you're okay. The kids could have organized some help for us!”

“I think we're just going to have to make the best of it until morning,” said Michael. “Let me think. Give me a few minutes and then I'll see if I can hobble off the path. We'll find a sheltered spot, and you'll have to pull down some pine boughs so we've got something to keep us off the cold ground.” He lifted the quilt. “And we've got this, so it could be worse.”

They didn't speak for a few minutes and then Penny struggled to her feet. “I'd better get those pine branches sorted while the last of the light remains. It's going to be dark in a few minutes.”

She stumbled over a rock on the edge of the path as she headed off into forest, holding onto trees for support.

“Be careful!” called Michael. “We don't want you down, too. And don't go far.”

As the last of the light drained from the sky, the birds fell silent and the wind dropped. The tree branches no longer sighed about his head and the stillness was at once comforting and frightening.

The sound of snapping branches, accompanied by the occasional light grunt, reassured him that Penny was nearby. He was sitting upright, his feet stretched out in front of him, wishing there was something he could lean against. His leg was starting to throb and although he had done his best to hide his discomfort from Penny, he was now in real pain and worried that his leg was broken. For the first time, acute awareness of the dangerous situation they were in began to creep into his thoughts. From somewhere not too far off he heard the hooting of an owl as it began its nocturnal hunting. We forget, he thought, how really dark a forest is at night, with no lights. He looked up at the sky. Stars were starting to become visible, small and twinkling against a black velvet backdrop. He realized how tired he was and how desperately he needed to lie down.

Penny emerged from the woods and stood over him. “Can I help you up now?” she asked. “Give me the quilt.” She took it from him and reached down for his hand. He shifted his weight slightly, groaned softly, and then took a deep breath as he reached for her hand. His face contorted into a grimace as she pulled him up a few inches but realizing how badly he was hurting, she lowered him to the ground.

“It's no good is it?” she said. “You're in too much pain.”

“You're going to have to lift me up, I'm afraid,” he said. “Do you think you can?” She set the quilt down and bent over, then grasping him under both arms, struggling against his weight, managed to haul him to his feet. He stood there unsteadily, all his weight on his right leg. She tucked his right arm over her shoulder. “Can you hop?” she asked. “It's not far. We have to do this. Let's do it.”

They limped and lurched to the pine boughs Penny had laid out and Michael lowered himself into them. “I think my left leg is broken,” he said. “In the morning you'll have to leave me and go for help.”

“At first light,” Penny said. She returned to the path to fetch the quilt and put it over him. “I think I should take your boots off,” she said. He moaned slightly as she moved his left leg. She took off her own boots and then, being careful not to touch him, she slid under the other half of the quilt. They lay back to back, listening in awkward silence to the night sounds of the forest that surrounded them.

“It's very odd, Dilys turning up again like this,” Penny said finally. “Her brother used to be the head gardener up at the Hall—you know, where the
Antiques Cymru
show was held. He died in a fire up there, oh, must be eighteen months ago now, and Emyr—that's the owner—let her stay on for a bit in her brother's old cottage. But the cottages have all been done up now as holiday lets, so I have no idea where she's living.”

“Does she live rough?” Michael asked. “If this is what living rough feels like, I can't imagine anyone doing it.”

“I wish I knew where she is right now,” Penny said. “She could find us some safe water and then go for help.”

“When you go for help,” Michael said, “you'll have to tie something to a tree near the path so they can find me. I don't know if I'll be able to get back to the path. My leg's in a pretty bad way.”

“I'm so sorry,” Penny said. “I feel terrible that this happened.”

“Don't apologize. You've nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't your fault. Things happen.” He let out a long sigh. “It could be a long night and I think the best thing we can do is try to get some sleep.”

“Do you think you'll be able to sleep through the pain?” Penny asked.

“I hope so.”

Penny ran her hand down the edge of the quilt and slid her hand in the empty pocket created when the seam had been split open. She wiggled her fingers around but felt nothing except a bit of batting. This quilt has a story to tell, she thought.