On this occasion, however, he felt it was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, and the only solution was to bite the bullet and succumb to the technological wizardry.
The ringing of the telephone broke Rob’s train of thought and he stood with a sinking feeling, making his way to the kitchen where he once more reached for the receiver with almost too much trepidation. His hand hovered inches from the telephone for some considerable time, but the caller was persistent and in the end Rob snatched up the receiver just to give himself peace, holding it some distance from his ear almost as if he feared it might sprout fangs and bite him.
‘Hello.’ The voice on the other end sounded alarmed. ‘Hello, is anyone there?’
‘Gerry, is that you?’ gasped Rob with relief.
‘Rob, thank God, I was beginning to worry.’
‘Worry about what?’
‘I thought maybe they’d got you!’
Rob sighed deeply. ‘Look, Gerry, I know you’ve been lying to me. I went back to Jonathan’s yesterday when you weren’t there. I know you’re not married to Lilly. What else have you been lying about?’
Gerry sounded shocked. ‘Oh! Rob, I’d like to explain, I really would, and I will one day. But right now I need your help.’
Rob laughed mirthlessly. ‘You want my help? You come back into my life after twenty years, and immediately tell me a pack of lies. You won’t explain why, and you won’t tell me what the hell is going on… and you want my help!’
‘Please, Rob.’ There was a desperate note to Gerry’s voice that made Rob re-evaluate his position, and he agreed to listen. ‘Lilly isn’t my wife, you’re right there. She’s my lover.’
‘I guessed that much. What about it?’
‘Well, she is married to a man called Stan O’Nass… a bad lot if ever there was one.’
Rob patience began to ebb away. ‘Get to the point, Gerry. You said you wanted my help.’
‘Early this morning, Stan turned up causing a scene, and now Lilly’s vanished. I think he’s kidnapped her, taken her back to the village where they used to live. I need your help to get her back. Rob, I’m desperate. I tried to call Jonathan earlier, but there’s no answer. The guy on reception at the apartment building can’t get hold of him, and he says Jonathan hasn’t left the apartment either.’
Rob found this development disquieting. He had no feelings one way or the other about the possibility of Lilly being kidnapped by her ex-husband, but the fact that Jonathan had not left the apartment and yet was not answering the phone unsettled him.
He put his fears for his agent’s safety from his mind for the moment. There was probably a logical explanation; Jonathan could have been in the shower when the telephone rang, or was perhaps still sleeping soundly, having unplugged the telephone. ‘Why me?’ he demanded frostily. ‘Why should I help you find a woman who has never once been friendly or polite towards me?’
‘Because you’re my brother. Because I love her. Because I’m scared of what Stan might do to her. You don’t know what he’s capable of.’
‘And you do, I guess.’ Rob sighed deeply, reluctant to get involved in what was ultimately a domestic dispute of infidelity. ‘Very well, Gerry. I don’t know what I can do to help, but I’ll try. Where is this village?’
The relief in Gerry’s voice was palpable. ‘Thank you, Rob. The village is called Dorstville. It’s in the heart of Dartmoor, a few miles south-east of Oakhampton.’
Rob was no longer listening. His brother’s words chilled him. Dorstville was in the very heart of the area where he believed the Devil’s Tor to be located, the place he had been warned to keep away from. ‘Do you know that area well, Gerry?’
‘Quite well. Why?’
‘Is there a place called the Devil’s Tor on Dartmoor?’ Rob heard Gerry’s sharp intake of breath down the line. ‘I’ll take that as a yes then.’
‘What do you know of that place, Rob?’
Gerry’s alarmed tone told Rob all he needed to know, without actually answering any of the questions that lingered in his mind. ‘Well, nothing really,’ he muttered as he clutched the receiver tight in his sweating hands. ‘Other than the fact that I have been warned to keep away from the Devil’s Tor if I value my life. So, is there a place of that name on Dartmoor?’
‘Yes,’ responded Gerry slowly. ‘What exactly have you been warned about?’
Rob could hear the caution in his brother’s voice, almost as though he was trying to conceal something. ‘As I said, nothing more than that I should stay away if I value my life.’ He wanted to ask Gerry outright what he was keeping from him, but instinctively knew that his brother would clam up, probably even hang up if pressed too hard for answers.
‘Are you taking the warning seriously?’
Rob chortled derisively. ‘No. Why, do you think I should?’
‘If those phone calls came from Dorstville, there’s only one person I can think of who might have made them.’
‘Stan O’Nass?’
‘Yes. Under other circumstances, I’d have said avoid contact with him, and don’t ignore the warnings. However…’
‘If he has kidnapped Lilly and taken her to Dorstville, then there’s no way I can avoid either him or the Devil’s Tor.’
‘Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t come then.’
‘By your own actions, you have now involved me, Gerry. I can’t stay away, even if I wanted to. Besides, those warnings would have made me try to find this Devil’s Tor anyway. There’s something going on down there, something that directly concerns me, something that other people don’t want me to discover. If Jonno’s disappeared, it’s possible he, too, has been kidnapped by this Stan O’Nass.’
Gerry gasped in an altogether too theatrical manner. ‘You don’t think that’s what’s happened, do you?’
‘It’s a possibility.’ Without trying to be quite so obvious himself, Rob decided to fish a little for snippets of information. ‘Did Jonno know about Devil’s Tor?’
‘Oh yes, without a doubt. He and Lilly were quite close; she would have certainly mentioned Dorstville to him, and if you know of the village, you can’t talk about it without also speaking of its infamous surroundings.’
‘Infamous? I’ve never heard of either place.’
‘It’s infamous locally. There have been several rather gruesome murders on the moors in recent years. The locals have managed to keep it quiet.’
So, there were a lot of things Jonno knew about Dorstville and the mysterious Devil’s Tor, but didn’t tell me, mused Rob. Can that mean that either he or Gerry is involved somehow?
‘Well, that really settles it,’ he sighed sadly. ‘I’m definitely coming with you. We’ll go down to Dorstville tomorrow and see about finding Lilly, and maybe even Jonno. While we’re there, we’ll also see if we can get to the bottom of the mystery of why I’m being warned to stay away.’
Of course, he added mentally, I’m pretty certain you already know that answer to that one!
‘Are you sure it’s a good idea, Rob?’
‘Listen, Gerry, whether it’s a good idea or not, I’m coming with you.’
‘As you wish. I’ll pick you up from your house around ten tomorrow morning.’
‘All right. I’ll see you then.’
Rob hung up and moved back to the sofa in the sitting room. He could see it was coming over cloudy again outside, but the clouds formed naturally, and when the rain started it was gentler than the sudden deluge earlier. Still uncertain whether that had been in his imagination or not, he switched on the television and flicked through the countless news channels, until a headline caught his eye and made him flick backwards one channel.
Bizarre freak weather conditions caused flash floods across the country less than an hour ago, before drying up almost as quickly as the rains came.
So, thought Rob, it wasn’t my imagination.
The weather girl seemed to imply indirectly that the rain started in Dartmoor and radiated ou
twards across the country, and whilst everywhere else dried up rapidly with the equally sudden burst of sunshine, Dartmoor seemed immune, and much of the area was still being subjected to the torrential rain.
Dartmoor again.
Something decidedly odd was going on down there, and Rob was determined to get to the bottom of it.
* * *
‘Well?’ demanded the man coldly.
‘He’s coming tomorrow,’ the woman responded in a clipped, precise tone.
‘Excellent. Everything has gone according to plan so far. How goes the preparation?’
‘We are on schedule, Oh High One.’
‘Such news pleases me. If all goes smoothly, Father shall rejoin us very soon.’
‘Are you certain he is the Chosen One, Oh High One?’
‘You dare to question my judgment on this matter?’ The woman’s voice thundered around the room, rattling the pictures on the walls.
The man quaked beneath her fury. ‘I meant no disrespect, Oh High One, I am merely most anxious for Father’s return to be smooth and swift.’
‘Worry not, my brother. He is the Chosen One. When the Night of Madness is upon us, he will prove himself to be thus. But we must have a care not to ruin the plan this time.’
‘What about them?’ asked the man, kicking the nearest of the two bound and gagged figures lying unconscious on the floor. ‘Do they not pose a threat to the plan?’
‘They shall be eliminated on the Night of Madness, not before. They may yet still serve a greater purpose.’
Her eyes tightly shut, pretending to still be unconscious, Lilly struggled not to react at the pain inflicted by her captor’s foot connecting with her thigh. She recognised both voices clearly and she knew instinctively to whom the pair referred when they mentioned the Chosen One. What they intended to do on the Night of Madness was inhuman.
Much as she might have disliked the purported Chosen One, such an act of unconscionable barbarism could not be allowed. She knew the consequences that lay ahead for them all, and her subconscious mind was already formulating a plan of escape.
She suddenly felt very sorry for him. He would feel so terribly betrayed once he learned what fate had in store for him.
Some people just did not choose their friends and lovers carefully enough, through no fault of their own.
Rob Tyler was one.
She was another.
Both betrayed by love.
* * *
Gerry uttered not a single word to his brother as they left London far behind, heading west. It was only as the car left the M4 and joined the M5 that either of them spoke.
‘There’s a service station not far up ahead. Do you want to stop for lunch, or shall we just carry on?’
Rob looked up from the book he had been engrossed in. Jilly Cooper was a writer with a very special talent for making the mundane humorous, and when immersed in one of her weighty tomes, Rob found it difficult to be distracted by anything: her latest was no exception.
He glanced at his watch, surprised to find it was just after midday. Considering they had not left London on time, Rob felt they had made good progress. ‘How much further to Dorstville?’ he asked.
‘It’s another eighty miles to Exeter, and then a further thirty-five or forty to Dorstville.’
‘I don’t think my bladder will last that long, so let’s stop for a bite to eat and stretch our legs at the same time.’
A little while later, Gerry managed to find a parking space at the services area and they made their way inside. After queuing for what seemed like hours to relieve themselves, and for what seemed like three times as long in the cafeteria, they finally managed to find a cramped corner over by the dirty windows which was free and they sat down, exhausted and unamused to find it was now almost two o’clock.
‘So, Gerry, tell me about Dorstville. What’s it like?’
Gerry shrugged as he bit into his burger. ‘It’s okay, I guess, Heaven or Hell, depending on what you like and dislike really. It’s an out of the way place in the back of beyond. It’s a quiet village, very small. I reckon there’s less than fifty houses there.’
Rob could not help but smile at the clichéd utterances coming from his brother’s ketchup smeared lips, in between biting into the burger with a little more relish than Rob could muster for his own lukewarm offering. The irony of Gerry’s description of such a desolate place was not lost on him: his tenth novel had been entitled The Back of Beyond.
‘There’s a church, dating back to Norman times so I believe, a doctor’s surgery and a small grocery shop, and that’s about it. It’s surrounded on all sides by the moors, and if you drive quite fast you’d probably pass it in the time it takes to blink. I guess that’s why it’s not on any map… well, none that I’ve seen, anyway.’
‘What are the villagers like?’
Gerry licked his lips clean with a tongue that reminded Rob instantly of Gene Simmons from the rock group Kiss, and he tried not to grimace and laugh at the same time. Fortunately, Gerry was too preoccupied with his food to notice Rob’s strained expression.
‘They’re friendly enough, I guess, but it takes them a while to warm to newcomers. They’re incredibly mistrustful of strangers and generally keep themselves to themselves, and every villager packs out the church on a Sunday.’
‘What about Stan O’Nass? Are any of the others as nasty as he seems to be?’
Gerry finally brought his eyes up to meet those of his brother, who was surprised to see a momentary flash of anger – or was it fear – in them. But then it passed and Gerry merely shook his head. ‘Wherever you go, you’ll come across someone regarded as the local rogue. Thankfully, Stan is Dorstville’s one and only. Everyone else is as nice as you could imagine anyone to be, once they get to know you… especially Val.’
Rob wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, having decided he could not finish his burger. ‘Who’s Val?’
‘Dr Val Hide-Guest, the local GP.’
Rob chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t have thought she would have much to do in such a small community.’
‘Indeed. She also runs the local shop. She really is stunning, Rob. She’s bewitching, with hair that defies description, and she’s without doubt the nicest person I have ever met.’
Anticipation did not exactly rage through Rob’s body at the prospect of meeting a stunning woman with hair that defied description, but his curiosity – if nothing else – was aroused.
Conversation ceased as Gerry, seemingly out of things to say about their destination, reached out to grab Rob’s abandoned burger, which he proceeded to devour with gusto, and then, having sat in an awkward silence for ten long minutes, they returned to the car. As they opened the car doors, a frantic mewing ensued from within.
‘Yes, Satan, we’re back,’ said Rob as he slid into the passenger seat, turning to smile reassuringly at the enormous amber eyes that peered out suspiciously through the wire front of the cat basket.
‘I still don’t know why you had to bring that bloody cat,’ moaned Gerry, who had made no secret of the fact that he hated cats while they waited for Satan to return from the garden before their departure that morning. It had clearly annoyed him that their journey had been delayed because of the animal.
Satan hissed at him venomously, clearly detesting him with equal fervour.
‘I never go anywhere in this country without Satan. He hates it when I leave him, even for just a few days. The only other person he’s happy to stay with is Jonathan, and since Jonno seems to have vanished, I can hardly leave Satan with him.’
Gerry did not argue as he slammed the car door and fastened his seatbelt. ‘Well, at least you have the bloody thing secured in the cat box and not loose in the car. It’s bad enough having him hissing at me, without trying to gouge my eyes out as I drive.’
Rob had to admit he did not like the way Satan was suddenly reacting to Gerry. So far on the journey, Satan had been ominously quiet – so quiet in fact that, engrossed with his re
ading, Rob had actually forgotten the cat was on the back seat.
‘Does your cat spit like that at everyone it doesn’t know?’ demanded Gerry as he put the car in gear and slowly navigated his way out of the parking space, barely out before another furiously impatient motorist raced into the vacated spot.
‘No, only people he strongly dislikes, or people he might have a genuine reason to mistrust… double glazing salesmen for example are the bane of my life.’
Gerry laughed. ‘Your cat is very perceptive, then. I’m a double glazing salesman!’
In spite of his permanent sense of unease, Rob grinned. ‘Well, perhaps he might grow to like you, in time.’
‘I won’t be doing the job for much longer, anyway. I’m not very good at it. I’ve been threatened with the sack several times because I don’t bring in enough business.’ Gerry sighed as he brought the car back into the stream of motorway traffic. ‘Mum wouldn’t be pleased with me if I tried to force someone into buying something they can’t afford or don’t want. Sometimes I wonder why I do the job.’
Rob was astonished. ‘You remember how Mother warned us about being careful with money from all those years ago?’
Gerry nodded. ‘Oh yes, all those dire warnings about the perils of getting into debt have been invaluable to me through the years. They kept me out of trouble, and if I’d listened to the things your father said then I’d probably be flat broke and in prison by now.’
‘Do you remember much of our childhood?’ asked Rob.
Keeping his attention fixed on the traffic around him, Gerry nodded. ‘I remember everything. Everything that bastard did to me, everything he did to you, and to Mum. It’s all imprinted on my brain; a living memory from hell.’
Rob frowned. ‘What do you mean, you remember everything he did to me? I know he beat you and was generally a rotten husband to Mother, but though he might have never shown me much love, he never laid a finger on me.’
The Five Tors Page 5
