George turned away and looked again at the text in the nineteenth-century book, trying to marry its description to the large-scale Ordnance Survey map. Tommy Clough, recognizing his limitations, sat down again by the window and watched a pair of blackbirds scrabbling in the dirt under the heavy shelter of an ancient yew tree. There would be work to do soon enough; for now, he’d content himself with sitting and thinking.
The cavers arrived in a Commer van with rows of seats bolted to the floor. Peak Park Cave Rescue was painted in an amateur hand across the doors. Half a dozen men spilled out across the green, apparently oblivious to the rain, grabbing handfuls of gear out of the back of the van. One man detached himself from the group and crossed to the caravan. Charlie stopped pacing and stared eagerly at him, like a gun dog on point. The man appeared in the doorway and said, ‘Who’s the boss man, then?’
George stood up, stooping under the low ceiling. ‘Detective Inspector George Bennett,’ he said, extending a hand.
‘You’ve got the look of Jimmy Stewart, anybody ever tell you that?’ the caver said, pumping George’s hand briefly.
George frowned as he caught Clough’s grin. ‘It’s been said. Thanks for turning out.’
‘Our pleasure. We’ve not had a decent rescue for ages. We’re champing at the bit for something a bit out of the ordinary. How d’you want to run this?’ He sat down on the bench seat, the rubber of his wet suit corrugating across his lean stomach.
‘We’ve got a vague idea where the entrance to these mine workings might be,’ George said. He gave a brief outline of what they’d learned from the book and the map. ‘Charlie here is a local. He knows the dale, so he can probably give us some pointers on the ground. If we find it, then I want to be with you when you go in.’
The caver looked dubious. ‘You done any potholing? Any climbing?’
George shook his head. ‘I won’t be a liability. I’m fit and I’m strong.’
‘You will be a liability, whatever you say. We’re a team, we’re used to working together and looking out for each other. You’ll upset our rhythm. I don’t really want to go into an unexplored cave system with somebody that doesn’t know what’s what.’ He rubbed his cheek with his knuckles in a nervous gesture. ‘People die in caves,’ he added. ‘That’s why we were set up.’
‘You’re right,’ George said. ‘People do die in caves. That’s exactly why I have to be there with you. It’s possible that you might walk into a crime scene. And I’m not prepared to compromise any potential evidence. You have an area of expertise, I’m not denying that. But so do I. That being the case, you’re not going in there without me. Now, have you some spare gear, or am I going to have to get one of your team to strip off and give me his wet suit?’
The caver looked mutinous. ‘I’m not putting my team at risk because of your inexperience.’
‘I’m not asking you to. I’ll stay back, let you go ahead and check out any potential dangers. I’ll follow your orders. But I have to be there.’ George was implacable.
‘I want to come an’ all,’ Charlie burst out, unable to keep quiet any longer. ‘I’ve been in caves, I’ve done potholing, and climbing. I’m experienced. I know the terrain. You’ve got to take me.’
Tommy put a hand on his arm. ‘It’s not a good idea, Charlie. If Alison’s in there, chances are she’s not going to be a pretty sight. It’d upset you, and you might destroy evidence without meaning to. My first murder, I thought I was going to be the next victim. I threw up all over the crime scene and the DCI looked like murdering me. Trust me. It’s better if you just help us find the way in.’
The young man frowned, pushing his hair back from his face. ‘She’s family, Mr Clough. Somebody should be there for her.’
‘You can trust DI Bennett to do his best for her,’ Tommy said. ‘You know he wants this sorting as badly as you do.’
Charlie turned away, his shoulders slumped. ‘So what are we waiting for now?’ he demanded, his bravado betrayed by the break in his voice.
‘I need to get changed,’ George said. ‘I don’t know your name,’ he added to the caver.
‘I’m Barry.’ He sighed. ‘All right, we’ve got a spare suit that should fit you. You’ll need your own boots, though.’
‘I’ve got wellies in the car. Will they do?’
Barry looked contemptuous. ‘They’ll have to.’
Twenty minutes later, they made a strange procession down the dale and through the woodland where Charlie had uncovered the site of the struggle with Alison. He led the way, closely followed by George and Clough. Behind them the cavers walked in a clump, laughing, talking and smoking cheerfully as if they faced nothing more demanding than the usual Sunday exploration of some fascinating cave system.
When they reached the base of the crag, the cavers squatted on the ground under the nearest trees and waited for directions. Charlie moved slowly along the edge of the limestone, pushing back undergrowth and occasionally clambering over fallen boulders to check if they were obscuring the remains of a hundred-and-fifty-year-old palisade. George followed where he could, but left most of the quest to Charlie, constantly comparing the topography to the description in the book.
Charlie pushed through a thicket of young trees and dead ferns, then pulled himself over a group of small boulders and dropped down on the other side. He was lost from sight, but his voice carried clearly down the dale to the waiting men. ‘There’s a gap in the cliff here. Looks like…looks like there’s been a barricade, but it’s rotted away.’
‘Wait there, Charlie,’ George commanded. ‘Sergeant, come with me. We need to see if there are any signs of disturbance other than Charlie’s tracks.’
They made their difficult way to the cluster of boulders, trying to avoid being whipped in the face by overhanging small branches or tripped by the tenacious bramble suckers that criss-crossed the undergrowth. ‘It’s impossible to tell if anyone’s been here,’ Clough said, his frustration obvious. ‘You could come at it through the woods, or along the dale from the other side. As a crime scene, it’s worse than useless.’
They scrambled over the rocks and found Charlie dancing impatiently from foot to foot. ‘Look,’ he exclaimed as soon as he saw them. ‘It’s got to be this, hasn’t it, Mr Bennett?’
It was hard to reconcile what they could see with the mine entrance whose representation George had been studying all morning. Chunks of rock had fallen away from the mouth of the tunnel, leaving it an entirely different shape. The arch that simple tools had carved out of the soft limestone now looked more like a narrow triangular crack, at least twice as high as it had been. Bracken and ferns reached waist height, while an elder tree camouflaged the higher part of what looked as if it might be the way in. ‘See,’ Charlie said proudly. ‘You can see the remains of the iron spikes they hammered in to support the wooden barricade.’ He pointed to a couple of black lumps extruding from the rock at one side. ‘And down here…’ He pulled the bracken to one side to reveal the rotten remains of heavy timber. ‘I thought I knew every inch of this dale, but I never knew about this place.’
George looked around with a heavy heart. Charlie had trampled the area like a young elephant. If Alison had passed this way, alone or under restraint, there would be no traces now. He took a deep breath and called, ‘Barry? Bring your lads up here, would you?’ He turned to Clough. ‘Sergeant, I want you and Mr Lomas to go back to the caravan. I’m going to need some uniformed officers down here to cordon this area off. And not a word to the press at this stage.’
‘Right you are, sir.’ Clough clamped a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘Time for us to leave it to the experts.’
‘I