Chapter Four – A Nightly Visit

Bernie Scripps yawned tiredly as he arrived at the garage the next day. He frowned as he found the door was still locked and no one seemed to be around.

"David?" he hollered as he turned around, sweeping the main street and its surroundings with his eyes.

The man in question was nowhere in sight.

Bernie jumped slightly as a horn sounded behind him.

"Scripps," Lord Ashfordly began dryly. "Can I have some service?"

"Of course, Lord Ashfordly," Bernie assured him with a polite smile before quickly disappearing through the garage door.

The Lord sighed in annoyance and rubbed his tired face before drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"I'm so sorry, your lordship," the garage owner apologized as he came back out and unlocked the pump. "I thought you would be away in Scotland?" he asked curiously.

Ashfordly nodded. "I was but I grew tired of it and decided to go home earlier," he explained. "The hunt needs to be planned properly, guests were invited a long time ago."

"Yes, the early fox hunt," Bernie said, reminding himself, wondering briefly if his lordships rather reckless sister would turn up at the event.

"That would be all," Lord Ashfordly clarified as the pump chirped, indicating the tank was full.

"Oh," Bernie said softly, his musings broken by the sound of his lordships voice.

"Put in on the bill," he said and then nodded curtly. "Thank you."

Bernie looked after him, as his lordship took off in his Bentley, the petrol pistol still in hand.

There was a sound of screeching tires and then a soft thud as David ungracefully swung his leg over the frame of the bicycle. The younger man half-ran, half-jogged up to him with an apologetic expression on his face.

"Mr. Scripps, I'm so sorry I'm late," he said by way of greeting.

"Where have you been?" Bernie asked incredulously. "I thought we decided you would get here early today. If I had known you weren't to come I would have left home earlier," he reasoned, his voice still soft but with an undertone of disappointment.

"I…I was up at Mr. Greengrass' place," David admitted.

Bernie sighed heavily. "What's he up to now?" he asked, not sure he really wanted to know.

"Well, you see, he's brought home some goats and we're going to deliver milk and such to the grocery store," David said as his eyes twinkled, excited by the whole thing.

"And what do you get out of it?" Bernie asked bluntly.

"Well, I get to learn how to do cheese," he said, beaming happily.

"That's very good David, but what do you gain from it?" Bernie asked, rephrasing his question slightly. "Claude isn't exactly known for sharing his gains. More like sharing his expenses," he muttered.

"I like the goats," David said happily. "I don't mind spending time with them."

"Well then, if you're finished with the goats then maybe you could help me in the garage, like you're supposed too," Scripps muttered in a low tone.

OOOOOO

Phil Bellamy stifled a yawn and blinked his tired eyes open. With slight curse he wondered how long he'd nodded off on duty. Casting a quick look on his watch he relaxed. He'd only missed fifteen minutes. During that time it would have been difficult to lift the heavy figures in the Lordship's garden onto a lorry and get away. However, just to be on the safe side he peered through the plants he was hunched behind and then let his flashlight shine on the surrounding area. Relieved he saw the statues where still at their places. Letting out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding he wondered briefly how Mike was fairing out in the middle of nowhere.

OOOOOO

PC Mike Bradley quietly walked down the deserted road up to Hillsdale Farm, his senses sharp as he listened for anything out of the ordinary and scanned the surrounding area through the faint glow of the flashlight in hand. When he could spot the walls of the barn at a fairly close distance he switched off the light so that the beam wouldn't give away his location. He waited a couple of minutes as his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at things, the moon shone brightly over the landscape. He had deposed of his motorbike further down the road so as not to arise suspicion, this however was to both his sergeant's and Alf's dislike since he couldn't be reached and therefore couldn't get any backup. However, he had argued that he had a better chance of spotting something that way.

He crunched behind a large tank of some kind and then rounded the corner of the barn, heading for the door. When he had deduced there was no one around he quietly entered and clicked on his flashlight.

The first section had a lot of hay stacked neatly at the far end, but was otherwise empty. He proceeded further into the building and came out into what once appeared to have been a stable of some kind. The boxes, hadn't been cleaned and hadn't it been for all the dust one might have expected for the large animals to come in from the pen or ride at any minute. It was an eerie silence except for his own footsteps and he felt uneasy as he walked up to the back of the section and carefully peered through a small crack in the wooden door that led to the last section.

Mike slowly, gently, pushed the door open and headed into what looked like a garage. Tools and other equipment lay scattered on the floor, again it looked like someone would walk through the door at any moment. An old car stood raised on a lift and as the flashlight danced over it Mike felt the hair at the back of his neck rise. It was the red car Claude Greengrass had seen. Only, taking a closer look at it he saw that the designation was not of a MG-TA but of a MG-TF. It was a rare car, worth a small fortune. So the question was; what did it do at a seemingly abandoned place in the middle of nowhere?

The young constable took one quick look around the premises before silently heading out through the outer door. He walked across the courtyard and up to an old henhouse. He was mildly surprised to see a padlock stuck to the door and walked over to the window. The beam from the flashlight illuminated several crates stashed on top of each other. Mike sighed in frustration, if he could only get inside somehow.

His train of thought was interrupted by a scraping sound coming from the house. The constable ducked behind the corner of the henhouse and quickly killed the light. He waited, feeling his pulse quicken. Several dreading minutes past before he carefully dared to peek around the corner. No one seemed to be around. Mike chuckled slightly, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. A grown man hiding behind the corner of a henhouse when nothing appeared to be near.

He got up on his feet again and then involuntarily ducked as a large owl brushed by only inches from his head. Mike let out an audible sigh and then took his cue to leave.

OOOOOO

Sergeant Nick Rowan yawned and rubbed his tired eyes before tiredly casting a quick glance at his watch. It was almost three in the morning and nor Phil or Mike had reported something strange. Not that Mike was anywhere near the radio receiver but he had to keep up the hopes that everything was well.

Was it like this to be a sergeant? He wondered. To worry about your constables when they were out in the middle of the night, looking for anything suspicious. He had ignored Blaketon's concerns on several occasions when he had been out on patrol but now he began to realize just how it was to be at the other end, to sit on the other chair.

Nick sighed and reached into the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a stack of papers. He absentmindedly flickered through them, staring at the beautiful places of the Canadian wildlife. He had meant to leave Aidensfield much sooner, when Kate had died, but he couldn't, he didn't have the energy then. Perhaps he was ready now. As much as he loved the village and the people there it was the same every day. Blaketon would always look over his shoulder, Claude would always be involved in something and so on. When he and Kate had first arrived in Aidensfield he had been tired of London, tired of the hectic life and everything that came with the MET but now he needed it, more so than ever, needed the distance a larger area provided.

His eyes stopped on a folder from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for an instant, and then at the letter from DI Merton at the Scotland Yard. But then again, Aidensfield was a good patch, a relatively harmless patch. He wasn't afraid of going to work, wondering what the day would bring and he didn't fear for Jo and Katie. He was comfortable in his life and Jo seemed to love Aidensfield and that made his decision much harder.

OOOOOO

Several hours later, almost around noon the next day, Mike Bradley walked into the Ashfordly Police Station to find that Phil had just arrived, busily shrugging out of his coat.

"Hi, Mike," he greeted jovially.

The former London copper raised a questionable eyebrow. "Well you look awfully pleased this morning," he countered.

"He received a commendation from his Lordship," Alf piped up as he walked around the corner from the kitchenette. "Turned out he managed to scare someone off. The keeper saw a truck in the area around the estate."

"It so happens that my flashlight scared them off," Phil said cockily.

"It's good to know he's useful sometime," Alf muttered as he sat down in his chair.

Mike couldn't help but chuckle before turning serious again. "Has Sarge arrived yet?" he asked Alf.

Alf arched a curious eyebrow. "Found anything interesting last night?" he asked.

"Mostly ghosts," Bradley replied smartly and nodded toward the sergeant's office. "Is he in?"

Alf nodded.

OOOOOO

To be continued

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