After stopping off at Beth's for lunch, we climb into her dad's Land Rover and she directs us up to Hound Tor. Dad takes the driving seat owing to the fact that when John drives, he drives like he's in a military caravan crossing hostile territory and in five minutes we've reached the base of the Tor and dad pulls the car into a small carpark opposite.
"It's a bit of a climb to the top," Beth says, jumping out of the back, "but you'll be able to look right over Baskerville once we you get up there." Dad nods and we follow Beth up the gentle hill leading up to the first big boulders.
It's taller than the pictures would have you believe and it looks like it could be a bit of a scramble to get to the top. As John starts to climb, Beth calls him down.
"Come round the back - it's not as high." She's right, there are less rocks around the back and most of the height is made up through the grass slope around it. Dad and I climb up onto a rocky outcrop which extends out towards a large site just a couple miles away while John consults his map.
"How far is Baskerville from Dewer's Hollow?" I ask John. "Could it have come from there?"
"There's Baskerville," John says hesitantly, turning to point to the large site we're facing before turning and pointing behind us. "That's Grimpen Village."
"And the forest beside Baskerville?"
John looks back at his map. "So that must be ..." he pauses as he tries to interpret the map, "yeah, it's Dewer's Hollow."
"What's that?" dad asks, pointing at the land between the Hollow and the Baskerville complex.
"I think it's a Minefield," Beth says, taking out a pair of binoculars from her bag and lifts them to her eyes. "There's some signs, but I'm not sure what they mean."
"A Minefield would make sense," John replies, taking the binoculars offered to him for a closer look. "Technically Baskerville's an army base, so I guess they've always been keen to keep people out."
"Clearly," dad replies.
"Tell you what," Beth says, taking back the binoculars. "Why don't we go down into Grimpen? There's a pub that can set you guys up for a couple of nights and apparently pretty much everyone there knows something or other about the Beast." I exchange a look with dad.
"Sounds good to me," I reply.
"You know how to get there?" John asks, folding away his map.
"Been there a few times, but it's signposted most of the way anyway. We had loads of people coming down a while back after Henry's documentary so the council put up a few signs to show people where it all happened."
Nodding, dad jumps down from the boulder and helps me down.
"So tell about yourself Beth," I say as we walk back down to the car. "What's it like growing up in the countryside?" Beth smiles.
"I thought you guys could deduce people."
"I thought it would be nice to ask."
"Well tell me what you already know and I'll fill in the rest," she suggests and I pause for a moment as I take her in.
"You're part of a low-income family who have been trying to get a move to Moretonhampstead for over a decade now but despite the lack of money you have aspirations for something a lot greater - considering your interest in coming with us, something in the criminal justice system. You don't have many friends because you moved schools now so that's left you to feel quite isolated. You didn't just come with us because you were interested but because you wanted the company. When you're not at college, you love to read and write and have a slightly obsessive interest in TV shows." I take a deep breath as we reach the car and she turns to face me in awe.
"That was unbelievable!" she exclaims and I grin. "Talk me through it." We jump in the back of the car and although Beth's eyes stay fixed on me, I can see John give dad a look as if to say 'she's finally found someone' which I guess is kind of accurate.
"I said you were from a low income family. That bit's obvious - you live in a tiny council bungalow. The fact you've been waiting for a move for so long is evident in the fact we met your two siblings earlier, but although we didn't go into any of the bedrooms, one can assume from the layout of the place there were only two bedrooms. You would have started looking for somewhere to live when your first sister was born which was about ten years ago. The fact you're looking for somewhere in Moretonhampstead is clear from the fact everybody in your family seems to be based out of the town - your youngest sister's uniform showed she attends the school there and you catch the bus there each day. Your aspirations are clear from the fact you could have continued onto the sixth form at your old secondary school, but the fact you don't suggests they don't offer your courses. Your friends, however don't have the same ambitions so you left them behind but I saw when you were sitting next to me on the bus earlier that you were messaging one of them. I also saw a writing and reading app on your homescreen which suggest you visit it regularly and your background was picture of the TARDIS. It wasn't really a difficult leap to suggest your obsession." I consider telling her about our meetings with the Doctor, but I think that might be a step too far for her at the moment.
"That was amazing!" she exclaims, shaking her head. "But what about you? You've recently lost someone haven't you?"
I look at her, momentarily lost for words. "How can you tell?"
"Oh," Beth says, her face reddening. "Sorry I didn't mean to..."
"No!" I say. "Please, tell me."
"It was a bit of a leap, but your shirt is slightly too big - kinda like you lost a lot of weight quite quickly but have been trying to put it back on again. You also seem slightly distant, like you're thinking over a little more than just the case. Both of these things, I've found, are effects of a recent loss. That and the fact I read something about it on John's Blog and made a few assumptions to get there."
"Brilliant!" I exclaim, smiling. "Except for one thing."
"What's that?" she replies with a frown.
"Never self-depricate. There's plenty of people who will do that for you, you don't need to be one of them. Your reasoning is spot on though, well done."
"Thanks," Beth says, her face still red.
She's spared any further embarrasment as we turn the corner and see the sign introducing us to Grimpen Village.
"There should be a carpark a little way into the village," Beth informs us. "I know a couple at the Cross Keys Inn, they should be able to put you up for a few nights." Dad nods in acknowledgement and a few moments later he pulls into one of five carparking spaces outside the Inn.
I jump out the back and walk around to the back to get our things from the boot. My ears tune in, however, on a young man standing just outside the entrance to the pub where he appears to be addressing a group of tourists. As I take my bags out, I look across to him and see a chalkboard propped up beside him advertising moorland walks. One of the most striking things, however is the image of a wolf-like creature with the words 'Beware the Hound!' written above in capitals. Looks like Henry's tale has managed to create a few quid for local businesses.
As we walk towards the pub, dad pulls his coat back on and turns the collar up. John looks at him pointedly and Beth clocks it but looks confused. I smile as John wordlessly criticises dad for popping up his collar.
"I'm cold," dad replies indignantly, trying and failing to look nonchalant. He enters first and takes a look at the interior of the pub while I go up with John and Beth to make the booking.
"Hiya Gary," Beth says. "Have you got a few rooms for these guys? They're going to be around for a few days."
"Yeah, sure thing Beth," Gary replies and pulls out a book from beneath the bar. He scans a finger down through the book. "I'm afraid the best we've got is three singles."
"That's fine," John says. "That's perfectly fine, thanks."
"You sure?" the manager replies, turning around and taking the keys down from their hooks before handing them over. "Anything else I can get for you guys?"
"Yeah, I'll get a beer, thanks. And er, did you girls want anything?"
"No, I'm alright thanks," Beth replies and I shake my head. Gary pours one up and puts it on the side before turning and taking the three sets of keys from behind him.
"Sorry we couldn't do a double room for you boys," Gary apologises.
"That's fine," John assures him before feeling the need to clarify. "We-we're not ... " But Gary gives him a smug, knowing smile and he gives up. Beth and I exchange glances and a smirk as John hands Gary a five pound note for the drink.
"There you go."
"Oh, ta. I'll just get your change."
"Ta." As Gary goes to the till, I watch John's glance fall on a pile of receipts and invoices which have been punched onto a spike on the bar. I'm too far away to read them, but one of them seems to have caught his attention and he rips it off and puts it away in his pocket quickly as Gary comes back with his change.
"There you go. "
"I couldn't help noticing on the map of the moor: a skull and crossbones," John questions and I narrow my eyes. Surely as a solider and after what Beth told him earlier he should already know, but I suspect it's just his foothold into a discussion about Baskerville.
"Oh that, aye," Gary acknowledges.
"Pirates?!"
"Eh, no, no," he replies, shaking his head. "The Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it."
"Oh, right," John nods.
"It's not what you think," Gary continues. "It's the Baskerville testing site. It's been going for eighty-odd years. I'm not sure anyone really knows what's there any more. "
"Explosives?" I question.
"Oh, not just explosives," he replies seriously. "Break into that place and - if you're lucky - you just get blown up, so they say ... in case you're planning on a nice wee stroll."
"Ta," John says. "I'll remember."
"Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound!" He chuckles and comes out from behind the bar to clear a few tables. "Did you see that show, that documentary?"
"Quite recently, yeah. "
"Aye. God bless Henry Knight and his monster from hell."
"Ever seen it - the hound?" John asks.
"Me? No," he replies and points out the door past dad to the man we passed coming in.
"Fletcher has. He runs the walks - the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He's seen it." Dad turns and follows Fletcher as he walks away so I follow him. I watch as he swipes an abandoned, half-drunk pint of beer from a nearby table and walks towards the guide.
"Mind if we join you?" dad asks and Fletcher shrugs, gesturing to the table. Dad puts his pint down and we sit down opposite him. "It's not true, is it?" he questions, going for the 'interested citizen' approach. "You haven't actually seen this ... hound thing." He smiles in a friendly way in an attempt to extend his 'ordinary person' view.
"You from the papers?" Fletcher asks suspiciously.
"No, nothing like that," he reassures him. "Just curious. Have you seen it?"
"Maybe."
"Got any proof?" I ask, eagerly.
"Why would I tell you if I did?" Fletcher retorts. "'Scuse me." He stands up to leave as John and Beth walk over.
"I called Henry ..." John begins but dad interrupts.
"Bet's off, John, sorry." I frown for a second but now he's standing I can see a betting pamphlet in the pocket of Fletcher's trousers.
"What?" John asks quizzically as he sits down and true enough, it sparks Fletcher's returning attention.
"Bet?" he asks but dad ignores him and looks to his watch instead.
"My plan needs darkness," he says and I look up to the sky, playing along.
"Reckon we've got another half an hour of light ..."
"Wait, wait," Fletcher interrupts me. "What bet?"
"Oh, I bet John here fifty quid that you couldn't prove you'd seen the hound," dad explains flippantly and John catches on.
"Yeah, the guys in the pub said you could." Fletcher smiles and points to dad.
"Well, you're gonna lose your money, mate," he grins.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Fletcher repeats. "I've seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind - couldn't make much out."
"I see," dad sighs. "No witnesses, I suppose."
"No, but ..."
"Never are," I chip in.
"Wait ..." Fletcher says, flicking through photos on his phone before turning it around and showing us one. "There." The photo he shows us is of a dark-furred animal of sorts in the distance but with none of the vegetation in the background providing any kind of scale, it could be anything.
Dad snorts. "Is that it? It's not exactly proof, is it? Sorry, John. I win." Dad goes to drink from his stolen beer but Fletcher stops him.
"Wait, wait. That's not all. People don't like going up there, you know - to the Hollow. Gives them a ... bad sort of feeling."
"Ooh!" I say in mock fear. "Is it haunted?!"
"Is that supposed to convince me?" dad continues, putting his glass back down.
"Nah, don't be stupid." I exchange a look with Beth who smirks. "Nothing like that, but I reckon there is something out there - something from Baskerville, escaped."
"A clone," dad snorts again in scepticism, "a super-dog?!"
"Maybe," Fletcher replies defensively. "God knows what they've been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could spit."
Dad nods to the photo on the phone. "Is that the best you've got?"
Fletcher hesitates for a moment, uncertain on whether to continue. "I had a mate once who worked for the MOD," he eventually says reluctantly, lowering his voice. "One weekend we were meant to go fishin' but he never showed up - well, not 'til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. 'I've seen things today, Fletch,' he said, 'that I never wanna see again.Terrible things.'" Fletcher takes a second before continuing. "He'd been sent to some secret Army place - Porton Down, maybe; maybe Baskerville, or somewhere else." He leans in closer. "In the labs there - the really secret labs, he said he'd seen ... terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said, and dogs ..." he reaches into his bag and pulls something out and presents it to us, "... dogs the size of horses." I look at the concrete cast in his hand and my eyes widen momentarily. It's supposed to be a cast of a dog's paw print but it's at least six inches long from the tip of the claws to the back of the pad.
"Er, we did say fifty?" John says, immediately pouncing. Fletcher smiles triumphantly as dad pulls out his wallet and hands John the note. "Ta." Sulkily, dad gets up and walks away. John downs his pint before we follow him back to the car.
