‘Rebecca,’ asked Mark after they’d spent several minutes discussing the options open to them, ‘how many people in the village would know anything about barns?’
‘Most of them I should say, but few would be able to tell you if they were still in use or not.’
‘That’s what I thought. I think this barn thing is going to be a big waste of time, you know. We might be better off concentrating on the windmills to start with.’
‘I have an idea,’ said Rebecca, her eyes widening with her thoughts.
‘Go on then,’ Mark encouraged her.
‘Well, we could take the horse and cart out on the roads and have a look round this afternoon. What with spending the morning here it’s not worth going to the ActionDome today, and I might get Dad to drop us off there tomorrow.’
‘Only one problem with tomorrow; the guys are meeting at eleven thirty and we might need to go back to the windmill, if we can find it.’
‘And don’t forget they’re meeting again tonight, although we don’t know where,’ James added.
‘I bet it’ll be under our field again. They’ve met there twice. I’ll lay odds it’s their meeting place for tonight,’ said Rebecca with a degree of certainty.
‘Which would probably mean the windmill meeting of eleven thirty is actually during the day, otherwise they would use the road again. So we have to find the windmill today and then be back there tomorrow.’ Mark had become serious, and was evidently beginning to form a strategy. ‘Customer.’ He suddenly nodded at the shop door, which was opening.
A few minutes later the customer left and the conversation resumed.
‘Do you think it’s safe following this up on our own. Shouldn’t we tell someone?’ James was showing concern over what might be about to happen.
‘I don’t think so, not yet. For a start, we don’t know what to tell them. Perhaps when we know something more tangible. Tell you what though, I’ll start putting together a document for Cyclops and we can always set it to send out if we get into trouble.’
‘Sounds like a good idea.’
‘Yeah, we’ll do that, if and when we find ourselves a windmill.’ Mark had carefully folded the Ordnance Survey map so that the relevant portion relating to Mainswell and the two windmills was showing. ‘I vote we have lunch when we shut up here, and then go out for the rest of the afternoon.’
‘That’s fine by me. Look, Bec’s only got another ten minutes. Why don’t we go and get lunch ready and she can join us in a few minutes?’
‘Is that all right with you, Bec?’ Mark was concerned that his cousin did not feel left out of anything. He was aware of the family situation, and that this was a bad time of year for her. His maturity dictated that his cousin’s feelings were of great importance to him, and he did not want to upset her.
‘Yeah, it’s fine by me. Tell you what, I’ll harness the horse and bring the cart up to the field. It’ll save time later on. See you in about quarter of an hour.’
The boys left the shop and began the walk back up through the field. Archer, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. Mark whistled for him three times and then, having seen no sign of the dog, he shrugged his shoulders and walked on into the lower field.
‘The stupid dog will no doubt come back when he’s ready.’
‘Yeah, only we’ll have to wait for him before we can go out. We can’t just leave him alone all afternoon.’
‘That’s a good point. He can’t have gone far, so we’ll pick him up on the way out if necessary.’
Archer had indeed done a disappearing act. He had been shut outside the shop for hygiene reasons and had rapidly become bored at the long wait, so he had ambled off in no particular direction. Quite by chance he had happened upon the sheds just beyond the farmhouse. He stopped at a shed with the slightly open door. He recognised it as the one he’d nosed round the previous day, the one in which Tom had entertained a mysterious visitor. Archer raised his nose, had a quick sniff round, and sensing there was no one about, pushed the door open sufficiently wide for him to enter. He passed quickly inside and could immediately detect a familiar odour. The back door to the shed was also slightly ajar and after listening for a minute at the door and hearing no sound from within, Archer pushed it open. The room was empty apart from a small, low table and a couple of stools. He sniffed again, and then directed his gaze to a rubbish bin in the corner.
Archer took two paces to reach the bin and then he stuck his nose inside. He found what he was looking for and when he raised his head again he had in his mouth something that looked awfully like the leg bone from a chicken. He gnawed the bone appreciatively, denuding it of the remaining traces of meat. He was unconcerned that the bone was a day old, and neither did it bother him that the bone did not have much meat on it. He knew that the bone was important, his sixth sense told him so. He did not know why it was important, he just had a feeling that it was.
There was something else that puzzled Archer. There was another smell. It was not a smell that he was familiar with, but it was a smell he was sure he should have recognised. He sniffed again, slightly harder than the first time, and then he recognised where he’d smelt it before. In his doggy mind the pieces began to fall together. There was just one remaining piece, which Archer couldn’t make fit, and that was why that person had been in the shed. Archer was sure he did not belong there.
Chapter 10
Lunch was a hurried affair. The two boys had prepared a spread of salad and bread, and had just completed their preparations when the horse and cart appeared at the bottom of the field. In just a few minutes the three youngsters were devouring the food they had prepared.
‘One thing about all this fresh air,’ started James with his mouth half full with salad.
‘Yeah, what’s that?’
‘It sure gives you a good appetite.’
‘Too true.’
The meal was soon eaten and James started to clear away.
‘You ought to check out where those windmills are, and check how we’re going to get to them. Bec, you’d better check the roads are okay for the cart. I don’t know much about what the different colours mean for the roads, but I’d hate to go several miles and then find we can’t get to our target.’
‘The roads are fine, James. There’s no need to worry. For one of the windmills we’re going to have to walk the last few hundred yards. I know that one, and I know the road leading up to it is in a bad way, covered in weeds and very rutty. I wouldn’t fancy taking the cart over that; we might wreck a wheel.’ Rebecca sounded confident that they would be able to reach their destinations.
‘Just so long as you’re sure, that’s all that matters.’
The lunch things were soon cleared away and the trio climbed up onto the cart.
‘Damn,’ said Mark, ‘I was hoping the dog would be here by now, but there’s no sign of him.’
‘He’s probably still down amongst the main farm buildings. We’ll call for him on the way.’
‘What if he’s not there? Can we just leave him?’
‘I guess we’ll have to. It’s only going to be a couple of hours and he’s been gone from us nearly that long already.’
‘I suppose so.’
Rebecca steered the cart into the lower field and skilfully passed into the main farm area. As she passed through the lower field gate the boys started whistling and calling for Archer. The cart came to a stop just outside the main house and the boys got down. They walked in opposite directions, calling for the dog. After a couple of minutes Archer ambled up to Mark, looking sheepish.
‘Come on boy, we’re going for a ride. You’d better come up on top with us; it’s a good long walk.’
Mark clambered onto the cart and after a few moments of trying to encourage the dog to jump up, Archer did as he was asked. He had just settled down when James came round the corner.
‘Any sign of him then?’
‘Uh-huh, just got him on board. Goodness only knows where he’s been. Up to no go
od, no doubt.’
James climbed on to the cart and gave the dog an affectionate pat. Rebecca picked up the reins and stirred the horse into action. They lurched out of the farm, Mark jumping down to open and close the main gate, and then they headed off into the country, away from the village. Mark pulled out the map and followed it closely as they rode down the road, which turned into country lanes, headed in the direction of the first of the windmills.
The journey of just over four miles took them nearly an hour. Finally, the country lane they had been travelling along began to deteriorate in quality and Bec became concerned about taking the cart much further.
‘If this gets much more rutted we’ll have to walk. How far do reckon we’ve got to go Mark?’ she asked her cousin as he scrutinised the Ordnance Survey map.
‘It’s difficult to say precisely, but I reckon after we take the next big left bend we’ve got about two hundred metres to go. In fact we should be able to see the windmill just after we turn the bend.’
‘One corner coming up - I hope you’re right. We’re getting shaken about a bit. These holes and ruts don’t do the cart any good at all.’
‘There it is!’ exclaimed James as the cart straightened up round the corner. ‘One windmill, or should I say, one ruin.’ It was quite an accurate statement. It was clear to all of them that its days as a productive windmill were past. The whole structure looked frail and the sails were clearly useless in the wind.
‘Doesn’t look much use any more, even from this distance.’
‘True, James, but I guess they won’t be too worried about that. In fact it might be better for them that way. Look, the road’s become much more even.’
The carriageway had indeed become smoother.
‘Looks like a roller’s been down here and ironed out some of the bumps!’ exclaimed Mark as he looked at the roadway ahead of them. Indeed, the centre of the lane was incredibly smooth compared to the badly rutted surface on either side.
‘Look,’ added James, pointing at the road immediately ahead of them. ‘Someone’s been filling in the holes, and they’ve used soil that doesn’t match the stuff round here.’
The road he was pointing at marked showed them a big, roughly circular shape of dark material surrounded by the much lighter material that comprised the rest of the lane.
‘Yeah, and not just in one place either. There are quite a few more up ahead.’
‘Now,’ began Rebecca, ‘who’d want to do that? This road only goes up to the windmill and that isn’t in use any more.’
‘Perhaps,’ said her younger cousin, ‘it’s someone who is planning on restoring the windmill.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Mark. ‘There’s not much call for that these days. It’s more likely to be someone who wants to get a car or van down here to the windmill. I’ll bet this is where they meet up and that’s why they made the road useable.’
‘Could be. Whoa!’ The girl brought the horse to a stop. ‘Let’s have a quick look round and get out of here.’
‘Okay.’ Mark was the first to jump down, quickly followed by the others. ‘Archer, you stay here.’
Archer looked up as if to say that was quite all right with him. He wasn’t that interested in ruins anyway, and didn’t show signs of getting up. After the roughness of the ride it was now comparatively comfortable to lie in the back of the cart. The youngsters half walked and half ran over to the windmill. The sails were severely dilapidated and no amount of wind would cause them to turn. The front door to the mill was also virtually non-existent. Mark pushed the door and it gave way easily.
‘Let’s take a look inside,’ he suggested.
‘Do you think it’s safe?’ James looked dubiously at the structure in front of them.
‘Yeah, it’s safe enough. I don’t mean we go right in, just have a look inside.’
‘Okay then.’
Mark was already at the doorway and he peered inside. The decay inside was almost as bad as that outside. Mark was about to withdraw his head when he noticed something strange. He took a few paces inside and was soon followed by his brother and cousin.
‘That’s strange,’ said Rebecca, voicing the thoughts of her cousins. ‘What’s that box doing here in the middle of the floor?’
‘I don't know,’ said Mark, ‘but it sure isn’t part of the windmill. The box was not a flimsy cardboard affair but a strong wooden box like a large tea chest.
‘Anything underneath it?’ Rebecca asked.
Mark, who was nearest, lifted the box and peered underneath it. ‘No, not a thing,’ he replied as he lowered the box again.
‘There is something on the top though,’ remarked James. ‘Look at these rings. Looks like someone, or several people, have stood mugs or glasses on here and they’ve stained the wood.’
‘Hmm,’ added Mark as he carefully examined the rings. ‘Some are stains all right, possibly tea or another brownish liquid. But look here, and here;’ he pointed at two rings, ‘these are burn marks. So whatever was put here was hot, and not hot like a mug of tea, but much hotter.’
‘Like a container that’s been heated up in a flame and put down.’ Rebecca was looking for the right words to use. ‘It’s almost as if –‘ she paused, ‘it’s as if these marks were branded into the wood.’
James had wandered off into the centre of the windmill. ‘Hey, look at this!’ he exclaimed suddenly. The others started to move in his direction. ‘The dirt on the floor here has been stained darker than the rest. Something has been spilled here.’
‘Could be oil,’ suggested his brother.
‘Could be,’ agreed their cousin. ‘Or it could be some other dark, thick liquid.’ She stooped down to smell the dirt for clues. ‘I reckon it’s oil,’ she finally declared. ‘It’s like the smell we get when the tractor leaks oil. But what’s it doing in here?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied her elder cousin, ‘but we’ve definitely found something. What we need to do now is check out the other site and decide what to do next. Anyone want to see any more here?’
There was no reply so the three youngsters made their way back to the cart. Archer looked up curiously as they clambered aboard. Mark unfolded the map.
‘It looks like we have to go about a mile back down the road, then we should be able to take a cut through.’
Rebecca turned the cart around and they made their way down the road until they came to a crossroad. The short cut proved useful, as the new road was made up and it made their journey much easier. About three quarters of an hour later they came to the place where the second windmill should have been. What they found was an empty field. They peered over the hedge to look.
‘I’m sure this is the right spot,’ said Mark. ‘Look, we’ve got that little lane just down there and the sign is right here.’
‘What sign is that, son?’ The deep voice behind them startled the youngsters. Sensing their surprise the voice continued. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. What were you looking for? That’s my field you’re gazing at.’
Mark was, predictably, the first to recover. ‘Sorry, we didn’t mean any harm. We were looking for the windmill hereabouts. It’s on our map but we can’t find it.’
‘Well you’re in the right place, only the windmill don’t exist any more. I had to take it down the year before last because it got too dangerous for the animals. It used to stand right there in the far corner of that field. Bits used to fall off it, and I had a couple of cows injured, so it had to come down.’
‘Well, I guess there’s not much more to see, so we’ll be on our way. Off to the next site.’ Mark sounded deliberately confident, and his reference to other sites was intended not to disguise the fact that they were only looking for windmills.
‘Now, Bec,’ he continued, giving her a quick look, ‘we need to turn round and do a left about half a mile down the road. Goodbye.’ He looked at the farmer and his smile was warm, friendly and intentionally disarming. He need not have worried - the farmer was already w
alking on down the road to what was presumably the farmhouse.
The cart was heading back to Hammond’s farm when James broke the silence. ‘I guess that settles it. At least we have a fair idea which windmill we have to be at tomorrow.’
‘Always assuming they mean a local windmill. But I agree, it does look like someone’s using the windmill for something or other, so it probably is the right place.’
‘Bec, have you got to do the shop tomorrow morning?’ asked James.
‘Damn. Yeah. I promised Dad I’d do it.’
‘Do you mind,’ Mark asked gently, ‘if we go and do the windmill bit on our own in that case? Promise we’ll tell you everything there is to tell when we get back.’
‘Hmm, okay then,’ she agreed. ‘I guess this is just too important to miss out on and if I’m tied up, you’ll have to do it on your own. One problem though.’
‘What?’ James interrupted his cousin.
‘Well, you guys can’t manage the cart, so I guess you’ll have to walk, or cycle.’
‘You’ve got bikes?’ James’ interest was increasing.
‘Yeah, there are some in one of the sheds. Tell you what, we can have a look when I’ve put the horse and cart away. They might need a bit of cleaning. They haven’t been used for quite a while now, but they’re probably okay.’
‘Great, let’s hope so. And Rebecca,’ Mark continued in his calm and appreciative voice, ‘thanks.’ He looked at his cousin tenderly. He knew she would dearly liked to have been with them and it was hard for her not to be. Mark was sensitive to her feelings and he would do anything to keep her from being upset.
‘What do you reckon we’ll find tomorrow?’ James asked, his excitement evident.
‘I have no idea. Nothing probably, but we’ll see.’ Mark looked at his brother as if to say that the conversation, at least for now, was over.
Archer's Mystery At Mainswell Page 8
