After plonking the unconscious man in the front passenger seat, I radioed for an ambulance and said I’d meet it on the highroad above Gelderslack, at the junction with the Rannockdale road. I stressed that the casualty looked like someone who had taken a barbiturate overdose and, as Jack went back to fight the fire, I bumped across the moor towards the rendezvous point. The ambulance arrived within quarter of an hour of my arrival, took the casualty and the empty bottle with its informative label, and sped off. I told them I had no idea who the fellow was — I would begin my enquiries once we’d got the blaze under control and would contact Strensford Hospital at the first opportunity.
It took more than four hours of concentrated effort by something like a hundred volunteers and four fire appliances and their crews, to get the fire under control. We were aided by a reduction in the strength of the breeze and, later, around two the following morning, it began to rain. Our prayers had been answered and so we mastered yet another moorland fire; even as we departed, however, the fire brigade retained a presence on the moors until well into the next day, as a precautionary measure. There had been immense damage and it would be impossible to estimate the cost of the damage, both in financial terms and in the devastation of the wildlife.
Young conifers, silver birch and hundreds of gorse bushes had been burned to the ground; acres of heather had been destroyed, as had the nests of countless grouse, skylarks and other ground-nesting birds with their young. Lizards and other mammals had perished, the insect life was devastated and many examples of rare moorland plants had been destroyed. Lots of habitats had disappeared beneath a desert of ash while much of the surface peat had been irreparably damaged.
Once I knew the fire was under control, I walked across to the isolated tent. I saw the remains of the camp-fire and the patch of blackened moorland which surrounded it, and it was easy to follow the path of the fire from that point. I drew the attention of the fire brigade to the remains of the fire, letting them decide whether in fact the devastation had been a direct consequence of this man’s camp-fire.
I searched the tent for anything of value but found nothing apart from the sleeping-bag and later, the old car. I took down the tent and stored it and the bag in my van for eventual return to its owner. Then I went home for a late bath; Mary groaned as I walked into the bedroom for I disturbed her sleep, but even in her own half-wakefulness, she had enough stamina to say that I stank of smoke and smelled as if I’d been working in a bonfire. I got to bed at 4:30 a.m.
I telephoned the hospital at 9 a.m., having caught about four hours sleep, to ask after the gentleman who had attempted suicide. I was told that he’d survived; we had found him in time and his stomach had been pumped to rid him of the residue of the tablets. At that time, in the late 1960s, suicide was no longer a crime. Once, it was a crime known as felo de se (felon of one’s self) although it was recognized there could be no earthly punishment. It ceased to be a crime with the passing of the Suicide Act of 1961 and consequently attempted suicide was no longer a crime either. Until that time, attempted suicide had been a crime and it did carry a penalty, although few attempted suicides ever reached a court. Other forms of treatment were considered far more suitable.
That fairly recent change in the law, however, meant that the patient had not committed any criminal offence by his actions but I still had to submit a report about the incident, particularly as his actions seemed to have started a devastating and dangerous moorland fire.
For my report, I had to interview the fellow in hospital and waited until the doctor gave me the necessary permission. It was then that I learned the name of the patient in their care but now he was most contrite, giving me a full account of his exploits and promising to mend his ways, if only for the few months of life that remained. He told me everything about his heart trouble, his supposed cancer of the liver and his ill-fated romance. His happy world had come to a sudden and very abrupt end and so he had decided to conclude his useless life in a place which he had offered everlasting happy memories. I felt touched by his frankness.
“What does the hospital say about your heart condition?” I asked him after we’d had a cup of tea together and after I’d got the necessary information for my report.
“I daren’t ask,” he said. “No, I got the hard word from Harley Street . . . I won’t try to end things now, Constable, I’ll battle on . . . after all, life is very precious, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I said, thinking of those acres of destroyed moorland and the devastated wildlife. “But surely you’ve told the doctors here? About the Harley Street verdict, your heart, your forthcoming cancer tests?”
“No,” he said. “They saved me from myself. I’ve been a bloody fool, Constable, I’ll try to do some good for someone before I do leave this world.”
As there was no question of him having deliberately set fire to the moorland, I felt sure that my superintendent would not authorize a prosecution under the Malicious Damage Act and told him that my recommendation would be “No proceedings.”
He thanked me, shook my hand and thanked me for saving his life. I told him I had not done so — for that, he must thank Jack Lewis and I gave him Jack’s address.
On the way out, I saw John George’s physician, Dr Handley, and asked for a word in private. In his office, I told him of John George’s visit to Harley Street and to the doctor in Hull, whereupon Dr Handley frowned. He pulled a reference book off the shelf and asked, “Who did he see about his heart trouble?”
I checked in my notebook and said, “A Dr Brownlow, No. 19a.”
“There’s no such person,” said Dr Handley. “We have a list of all the Harley Street heart specialists . . . he’s not there . . . see for yourself.”
“And what about the doctor in Hull?” I asked.
He made another check of his references and shook his head. “No, no such person of that name either.”
“Have you examined him for heart or other problems?” I asked.
“Yes, we gave him a thorough medical once he’d come round. His heart’s as sound as a bell, he’s in real good health. And I’m sure I’d have spotted something if his liver or other organs were cancerous or causing problems.”
I then told Dr Handley about Yvonne Patricia Carlton-Kinross, the lady doctor who had come here on a specialist lecture tour and he said he knew nothing about it but would check and ring me at home. I provided him with a list of some of the venues of her talks, as given to me by John George.
He rang me two days later.
“There’s been no lecture tour by that Yvonne Patricia lady doctor,” Dr Handley told me. “No one in our profession’s heard of her; some of us would have known the name, Constable, if she was a specialist over here from the States or wherever.”
“Do you think John George Crossfield has been conned good and proper?” I ventured to ask.
“I think he has,” laughed Dr Handley. “After you’d gone the other day, I gave him another thorough going-over, heart, lungs, kidneys, the lot. I could find absolutely nothing wrong with him, he’s a very fit man. Very fit indeed.”
“I wonder if she was a relation to one of his early victims?” I smiled. “Getting her own back perhaps, in a very clever, feminine way. Hell hath no fury like a woman spurned and all that . . .”
“He’s had a fright,” Dr Handley said. “Whatever she did to him, it’s shaken his self-confidence. Now, he’s over it all and I know he’ll recover.”
“But will our moors recover?” I asked, realizing that some of our finest countryside had been devastated by the most recent of John George’s man-made disasters.
THE END
ALSO BY NICHOLAS RHEA
CONSTABLE NICK MYSTERIES
Book 1: CONSTABLE ON THE HILL
Book 2: CONSTABLE ON THE PROWL
Book 3: CONSTABLE AROUND THE VILLAGE
Book 4: CONSTABLE ACROSS THE MOORS
Book 5: CONSTABLE IN THE DALE
Book 6: CONSTABLE BY THE SEA
Book 8: CONSTABLE THROUGH THE MEADOW
Book 9: CONSTABLE IN DISGUISE
Book 10: CONSTABLE AMONG THE HEATHER
Book 11: CONSTABLE BY THE STREAM
Book 12: CONSTABLE AROUND THE GREEN
Book 13: CONSTABLE BENEATH THE TREES
Book 14: CONSTABLE IN CONTROL
Book 15: CONSTABLE IN THE SHRUBBERY
Book 16: CONSTABLE VERSUS GREENGRASS
Book 17: CONSTABLE ABOUT THE PARISH
Book 18: CONSTABLE AT THE GATE
Book 19: CONSTABLE AT THE DAM
Book 20: CONSTABLE OVER THE STILE
Book 21: CONSTABLE UNDER THE GOOSEBERRY BUSH
Book 22: CONSTABLE IN THE FARMYARD
Book 23: CONSTABLE AROUND THE HOUSES
Book 24: CONSTABLE ALONG THE HIGHWAY
Book 25: CONSTABLE OVER THE BRIDGE
Book 26: CONSTABLE GOES TO MARKET
Book 27: CONSTABLE ALONG THE RIVERBANK
Book 28: CONSTABLE IN THE WILDERNESS
Book 29: CONSTABLE AROUND THE PARK
Book 30: CONSTABLE ALONG THE TRAIL
Book 31: CONSTABLE IN THE COUNTRY
Book 32: CONSTABLE ON THE COAST
Book 33: CONSTABLE ON VIEW
Book 34: CONSTABLE BEATS THE BOUNDS
Book 35: CONSTABLE AT THE FAIR
Book 36: CONSTABLE OVER THE HILL
Book 37: CONSTABLE ON TRIAL
MORE COMING SOON
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GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG FOR US READERS
A & E: Accident and emergency department in a hospital
Aggro: Violent behaviour, aggression
Air raid: an attack in which bombs are dropped from aircraft on ground targets
Allotment: a plot of land rented by an individual for growing fruit, vegetable or flowers
Anorak: nerd (it also means a waterproof jacket)
Artex: textured plaster finish for walls and ceilings
A Level: exams taken between 16 and 18
Auld Reekie: Edinburgh
Au pair: live-in childcare helper. Often a young woman.
Barm: bread roll
Barney: argument
Beaker: glass or cup for holding liquids
Beemer: BMW car or motorcycle
Benefits: social security
Bent: corrupt
Bin: wastebasket (noun), or throw in rubbish (verb)
Biscuit: cookie
Blackpool Lights: gaudy illuminations in seaside town
Bloke: guy
Blow: cocaine
Blower: telephone
Blues and twos: emergency vehicles
Bob: money
Bobby: policeman
Broadsheet: quality newspaper (New York Times would be a US example)
Brown bread: rhyming slang for dead
; Bun: small cake
Bunk: do a bunk means escape
Burger bar: hamburger fast-food restaurant
Buy-to-let: Buying a house/apartment to rent it out for profit
Charity Shop: thrift store
Carrier bag: plastic bag from supermarket
Care Home: an institution where old people are cared for
Car park: parking lot
CBeebies: kids TV
Chat-up: flirt, trying to pick up someone with witty banter or compliments
Chemist: pharmacy
Chinwag: conversation
Chippie: fast-food place selling chips and other fried food
Chips: French fries but thicker
CID: Criminal Investigation Department
Civvy Street: civilian life (as opposed to army)
Clock: punch
Cock-up: mess up, make a mistake
Cockney: a native of East London
Common: an area of park land/ or lower class
Comprehensive School (Comp.): High school
Cop hold of: grab
Copper: police officer
Coverall: coveralls, or boiler suit
CPS: Crown Prosecution Service, decide whether police cases go forward
Childminder: someone who looks after children for money
Council: local government
Dan Dare: hero from Eagle comic
DC: detective constable
Deck: one of the landings on a floor of a tower block
Deck: hit (verb)
CONSTABLE AROUND THE GREEN a perfect feel-good read from one of Britain's best-loved authors (Constable Nick Mystery Book 12) Page 21
