by Mark Sennen
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Talking of Charlotte, where is she?’
‘She was at the Francis crime scene, but I don’t know where she is now.’ Riley’s next words were tentative. ‘I guess she could have gone to God’s Haven.’
Hardin clenched his fists and his face reddened. Then he exploded.
***
After five minutes of running, Savage slowed. She cut off the lane and forged up a steep hillside, eventually finding herself in the lee of a small tor. Her eyes grew accustomed to the dark as she crouched next to a boulder and peered down at God’s Haven. Whoever was chasing her had given up because there was no one on the slope below.
She reached for her phone, hoping there might be a signal up here, but then realised she’d left it in her car. Idiot.
As she got her breath back, her mind turned to Enders. Where the hell was he? She was worried the mysterious figure had attacked him too and left him lying unconscious on the ground somewhere.
A flash of light interrupted her thoughts. The floods at the car park had come back on. A moment or two later, lights appeared in the houses, flicking on one by one. Hopefully people would come out and she could go down, call for backup and search for Enders. She hoped he wasn’t badly hurt or worse.
At God’s Haven, there was a further burst of activity as headlights punched into the night, and two cars set off from the car park and drove down the lane. A group of people clustered outside the reception building, somebody to one side waving their arms. Was that Marcus Clent? At this distance, she wasn’t sure.
Now the crowd dispersed, flashes of torchlight as people moved off. Some fanned out amongst the grey buildings, while others headed for the moor. They were looking for her and Enders. Relief flooded over her, and she stood, about to head down and tell them she was OK. Then she heard a voice ring out, clear as anything. It belonged to Clent.
‘Find them!’ he bellowed after the departing crowd. ‘They mustn’t be allowed to escape. If they do, it will threaten everything we’ve built here. The Almighty’s will must prevail.’
People moved away, a chant springing up.
‘God’s Haven! God’s Haven! God’s Haven!’
Savage ducked behind the granite boulder, shaken. She knew the residents held Clent in awe, but she hadn’t realised how much they were beholden to him. They would follow him to the ends of the earth, to the promised land. They’d sign over their possessions to him, let him rape their daughters, obey his every command. They’d even, Savage realised now, kill for him.
Below, torch beams swathed through the misty air as people clambered across the hillside. A shout rang out. Someone had found a footprint, fresh in the soft peat. Another shout urged the searchers to head for the tor.
‘She’s up there! She must be!’
‘God’s Haven! God’s Haven! God’s Haven!’
Whatever sanity these people once possessed had gone. The crowd had become a mob. She was about to turn and run when she saw a movement a couple of steps away. Someone hiding in the darkness. She steadied herself, ready to strike.
‘Ma’am?’
‘Patrick!’
‘Yes.’ Enders moved forwards. ‘I hoped it was you.’
‘What happened?’
‘Someone jumped me and smashed the phone from my hands. I managed to get away and came looking for you. I saw you head out onto the moor, and to be honest, the tor is the obvious hiding place as it’s the only cover.’
‘Right.’
‘Speaking of which, we should get moving.’ Enders waved at the hillside. Torchlight cut back and forth a couple of hundred metres away. ‘If we’re to have any chance of outrunning them, that is.’
‘OK, lead on.’
Enders turned away and traversed the side of the tor. Savage followed. She and other officers often teased Enders about his love of Dartmoor and his penchant for expensive outdoor equipment. He considered himself an expert and loved taking off for a day’s hiking in all weathers. Now all that was about to be put to the test.
‘I’m glad you’re here, Patrick,’ Savage said. ‘I mean, if one person can get us out of this mess, it’s you, right?’
‘Let’s hope so, ma’am.’ Enders forged ahead, skirting the tor and pausing at the rear where they were out of sight.
‘What’s the plan?’ Savage said.
‘I don’t know this area of the moor that well,’ Enders said, ‘but we’re on the side of Penn Beacon. If we head to the right, we’ll hit the Yealm valley and then be able to make our way via fields and lanes to the village of Cornwood.’
‘So we do that?’
‘No. It’s too obvious. We should aim for the summit and then go via Shell Top and Great Trowlesworthy Tor. From there, we’ll head west to Cadover Bridge and the main road. It’s a long trek, but once there, we should be able to flag down a car or find a local farm. Unless the God’s Haven lot are very familiar with the terrain, they won’t follow.’
‘And if they do?’
‘Then we’re fucked.’
***
Riley left Hardin and returned to the crime suite. He tried Savage’s phone, but all he got was voicemail. A call to Enders’ phone was the same.
‘There’s no signal up there,’ Collier said. ‘Mobile black-spot.’
‘Is anyone still at the Zac Francis scene?’ Riley said.
‘A few CSIs and a couple of uniforms. Do you want me to ask them about Charlotte and Patrick?’
‘Yes, but I’m going to God’s Haven anyway.’
‘Are you sure that’s wise given the DSupt’s reaction?’
Hardin, it was true, hadn’t taken the news well, and he’d all but foamed at the mouth as he’d ranted about ‘that bloody woman.’
‘He wanted substantial fresh evidence and we have two new strands. One, we now know Faye is actually Fiona Jones, one of the missing brides. Two, Charlotte discovered Zac Francis was in prison with Clent, and now he’s dead too.’ Riley grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. ‘Whichever way you look at it, the answer is at God’s Haven.’
***
Twenty minutes later, Riley was cruising up the narrow road to the community, Calter beside him. As they slowed at the top of the hill, he took in the scene. Light flared from every door and window, and all the security lights were on, the place ablaze with illumination.
‘Sir!’ Calter said, jabbing a finger to the left. ‘That’s DI Savage’s car.’
Next to a large, open-fronted wood store, four people were attempting to push an old MG. The vehicle had flat tyres all round and was proving difficult to manoeuvre.
‘They’re trying to hide it.’ Riley made a split-second decision. He pointed at the radio. ‘Call for backup and get the uniforms from the Francis scene here. Tell them it’s urgent. Life and death.’
Calter reached for the handset and contacted control as Riley parked the car outside reception.
‘Do you think they’ve got Charlotte and Patrick?’ she said once she’d made the call.
It’s not looking good,’ Riley said as they got out. ‘Why else would they try to hide the car?’
Down at the wood store, the four men had stopped pushing the MG. They turned and moved towards the reception building.
‘It’s not looking good for us either, sir,’ Calter said.
‘Inside.’ Riley ran over to the entrance and pushed the doors to reception. They didn’t budge. ‘Locked.’
Calter adopted a fighting stance. Riley knew she was a Taekwondo black belt, but he wasn’t sure that would help against four opponents. He rattled the doors again as half a dozen more men and women came round the side of the building and joined the others. One had a knife, the rest a selection of improvised weapons including pickaxe handles, hammers and lengths of timber.
‘Police,’ Riley said. He pulled out his ID, for all the good it was going to do. ‘We’re in a spot, Jane. Back up to the doors.’
‘Five to one, sir. We’re not going to get out of this o
ne.’
Of all the bad beats to end on, Riley thought. Cornered by a gang of God-bods. For a second, he pictured Julie. He wondered how she was going to cope without him. How she’d raise their son or daughter without a father. He took a deep breath as the mob closed. Braced himself. Then the group stopped as one. Blue light strobed in the mist and a police car shot into the car park. Three officers leapt out, one heading for the crowd, the other two going to the vehicle's rear and springing the boot.
In seconds it was over. Two men rushed the single officer, but he was armed with a Taser. One man tumbled over, writhing in agony, and as the other attempted to close the distance, a shot cracked out. At the back of the police car, the other two officers had weapons drawn, the first a pistol held aloft and fired into the air, the second a Heckler and Koch MP5 aimed at the crowd.
‘We got lucky, sir,’ Calter said. ‘It’s an ARV.’
ARV. Armed Response Vehicle.
‘Back off!’ Riley shouted at the crowd. ‘And face down on the ground. Now!’
At first, the residents were reluctant, but then, one by one, each lay down. When they were all lying on the ground, Riley approached. He resisted the temptation to kick the leader in the face and instead knelt beside him.
‘Where’s Marcus Clent?’ Riley said. The man pressed his lips together and shook his head. Riley straightened and shouted over to the uniformed officers. ‘Get a van out here. No, get two. Arrest them all.’
‘Sir?’ Calter was standing next to a prone woman. She held up a bunch of keys. ‘These should get us inside.’
‘Right. Lead the way.’
Calter went over to the reception doors and unlocked them. Riley followed her in and across to the desk.
‘Clent’s office is through there.’ Calter pointed to the door behind the desk. ‘I don’t know about his living quarters.’
Riley opened the door and walked through. Sofas sat round a vast window. Clent knelt before the window staring into the blackness, hands gripping a small Bible, lips mouthing silent words. Riley breathed a sigh of relief. With the trouble outside, he’d half expected the God’s Haven leader to go out in a blaze of glory, possibly quite literally. To find him kneeling, contemplative, armed with nothing more than a Bible and a prayer, was a bonus.
As Riley approached, Clent opened his eyes.
‘Who are you?’ he said.
‘DI Darius Riley. Where are DI Savage and DC Enders?’
‘The answer is in here.’ Clent held up the Bible, his voice full of passion and rising in volume. ‘The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms, and he shall thrust out the enemy from before thee, and shall say: DESTROY THEM!’
‘You fucker.’ Riley swung a fist at Clent, hitting him in the face.
Clent reeled, the Bible dropping to the floor. He raised a hand to his mouth and wiped away blood. Smiled. ‘Deuteronomy thirty-three.’
‘You’re no Christian.’ Riley grabbed Clent by his shirt and then shoved him backwards, hard. ‘You are nothing but a sad little man who thinks you’re somebody because you managed to dupe people into believing your lies. Arrest him, Jane.’
‘What for?’ Calter said.
‘The murder of Abigail Duffy, Dave Smeeton, Fiona Jones and Zac Francis.’
‘My, I have been busy.’ Clent retrieved his Bible. ‘I’m surprised I found time to do anything else. The problem for you is that I did find time to do something else, and it’s all detailed in my appointment diary. A two-day trip to London when Dave Smeeton was murdered, a twelve-hour interfaith prayer vigil on the night Fiona Jones was killed, and today I hosted a mini conference here at God’s Haven for local evangelical leaders.’
‘Sir?’ Calter stood next to Clent.
‘Just do it,’ Riley said.
‘My pleasure.’ Calter parroted the arrest statement and asked Clent if he had anything to say.
‘Plenty,’ Clent said. ‘But we can leave it until I speak to your Chief Constable.’
The man, Riley decided, was living in a fantasy world. He appeared convinced he was invincible. Then again, with both God and Chief Constable Maria Heldon on his side, perhaps he was.
Chapter 31
Fifteen minutes into the trek and Savage wondered whether she was going to make it. Both she and Enders were wearing their ordinary work clothing. She’d changed out of her wellies when she’d got back in the car for the drive to God’s Haven and now wore a pair of shoes suitable for walking the streets but totally useless for clambering across the rough landscape of Dartmoor. She could barely keep them on, let alone make good progress across the rock and through gorse, heather and soft peat. At some point, it began to rain, and she realised that even without a pursuing mob of religious nutters, their situation was serious.
‘Are you cold?’ Enders said as they rested for a moment.
‘Very.’ Savage rubbed her arms and stomped her feet.
‘The only thing we can do is keep moving. If we stop we’ll get hypothermia.’
‘How far?’
‘We’ve crested Penn Top, so it shouldn’t be long until we reach Shell Top.’ Enders waved ahead. There’d been a hump silhouetted against the dark sky, and they’d been aiming for that. Now though it was raining, low clouds swirling in and reducing visibility to a few strides. ‘The only good thing is they’ll be having the same problems navigating.’
They. The raging mob.
The thought of being set upon by Clent’s followers spurned them into action, and they moved off again.
After a few minutes, Enders stopped once more. He hung his head, and even in the dark, Savage sensed his expression.
‘We’re lost,’ he said. ‘Ever since the ridge disappeared, we’ve had nothing to aim for. We must have come too far to the right and missed the summit. With no moon or stars and no landmarks, we’re probably walking in circles.’
Savage patted Enders on the back. She was actually surprised they’d got this far. They were on open moorland at night in low cloud. There were no tracks or paths, no signposts, nothing but endless springy heather interspersed with squelchy bogs. When they came to a bog, they could either go round, which led to a time-consuming diversion, or they could plough through, the mud and water sometimes coming up to Savage’s thighs. In daylight the route was challenging. At night it was well-nigh impossible.
She took a glance at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. Any sort of light from the predawn was at least six hours away. If they’d been wearing the right gear, they could have sat it out, but to stop moving, given their current state, would be suicidal.
‘Let’s press on and hope the sky clears,’ she said.
Miraculously, after about half an hour, it did just that, and the clouds parted to reveal a crescent moon and thousands of stars. In the far distance, an orange glow of civilisation shone out like a beacon.
‘Plymouth,’ Enders said. He appeared to rally. ‘If we keep the city to our left, then we’ll be heading pretty much north-west. At some point, we’ll hit the river Plym and we can follow it down to Cadover Bridge.’
‘How long?’
‘If the weather stays set fair, then an hour or so.’
‘Fingers crossed then,’ Savage said.
***
They reached Cadover Bridge a little after one in the morning. A single vehicle sat parked by the river, a white Land Rover with a couple of strobes set on top. Blue light pulsed across the rough ground. As they trudged over, the headlights flashed and two figures climbed out.
‘Dartmoor Search and Rescue,’ Enders said. ‘Thank fuck.’
The first responders in the vehicle told Savage and Enders that a team was working their way in from the God’s Haven end, while another headed south from Sheepstor.
‘We knew we’d get to you eventually,’ the man said. ‘It was only a question of what state you were in when we did.’
The responders gave them a lift back to Crownhill, where they found Collier, Riley and several others on an all
-nighter in the crime suite.
‘Ma’am. Patrick,’ Collier said. He took a glance at the state of their clothing. ‘Glad to see you’re both OK. We were a bit worried.’
‘You were a bit worried?’ Savage said. ‘We were attacked by the Puppet and then had a hoard of religious nutters chasing us across the moor.’
‘The Puppet?’
‘He repeated stuff from the letters, so I’m pretty sure it was him.’
‘I’ve no idea who that was, but we’ve rounded up most of the others. There are so many they’re being kept at God’s Haven until we decide what to do with them all.’ Collier glanced over to where Riley was sitting at a desk, one hand hovering over a keyboard, the other holding a phone to his ear. ‘Not my job, thank goodness.’
Savage went across when Riley hung up.
‘You OK?’ he said,
‘Yes,’ Savage said. ‘Nothing a change of clothes, some food and a hot drink won’t cure.’
‘That was the DSupt on the phone. He was trying to persuade me not to charge and arrest the entire lot of them.’
‘He’s worried about Heldon?’
‘He wants to brief her first.’ Riley paused. Looked abashed. ‘Clent’s in hospital with a broken jaw.’
‘How…?’ Savage smiled. ‘You didn’t?’
‘Unfortunately, I did. DS Calter was with me and has been good enough to file a report that explains Clent was resisting arrest. The truth is slightly different.’ Riley pointed at a nearby desk where a day-to-a-page appointments diary lay open. ‘Perhaps of greater concern is he’s claiming to have an alibi for all the killings. Looking at his schedule, it might be an issue when it comes to charging him.’
‘Could the entries have been faked?’
‘Sure, but these are meetings with people from outside the community. It won’t be hard to check and he must realise that.’
‘So he ordered others to do the killings. Francis has already admitted he took part, and the way the community gathered together to come after myself and Enders, it looks as if they’ll do anything he says.’
