The Heiress of Linn Hagh (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 1) by Charlton Karen

Author:Charlton, Karen [Charlton, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2015-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

They left the horses tied to a tree on the main path and scrambled up through the undergrowth towards the crumbling cliff face of the gorge. The vegetation petered out, and they struggled up a boulder-strewn scree slope towards the fissures in the rock. There was only one cave large enough and dry enough for human habitation. A trickle of green water leaked out from the edge and formed stagnant pools in the mud at the entrance. The officers approached cautiously. Lavender pushed aside a small bush at the entrance. They peered into the gloomy interior and waited until their eyes became accustomed to the darkness. It was deserted. A blackened stone circle in the centre of the uneven floor contained the ashes of a dead fire. A pile of mouldy rags lay heaped in one corner.

Carefully, Woods examined the jutting shadows at the back of the cave while Lavender dropped to his haunches and raked around amongst the ash and the debris at the edge of the fire.

Outside, the rain continued to fall softly onto the bushes. Woods stood for a moment and tried to imagine what it must be like to sleep here on this cold earth floor with only these stinking rags for bedding. Even with a fire for warmth and comfort, the place was desolate. The walls were slimy with damp; the silence and isolation oppressive.

‘Do you ever get the feelin’ in these here woods that you’re being watched?’ he asked.

Lavender glanced up. He never doubted Woods’ courage for a moment, but he knew that this brooding woodland had affected his constable in a way that the familiar, heaving streets of the capital never did.

‘Constantly,’ he said. ‘This forest is full of eyes—most of them fixed on us.’

Woods nodded with relief and moved across the uneven floor to the pile of rags in the corner. Lavender watched him lift each one carefully and shake it out. A flash of dull metal glinted and fell amongst the stones on the floor. Woods reached down and scooped up a rounded pewter button.

‘What have you found?’

Woods held out the button for inspection. A couple of black threads hung limply from the back.

‘From an old coat, I should think,’ Lavender said. ‘Black. Possibly military.’

‘Does this help us?’

‘I don’t know. Most of the market towns in England have secondhand clothes stalls that sell surplus army greatcoats. They’re warm and favoured by farmers and beggars alike. This might be of more interest, though.’

He rose stiffly to his feet and showed Woods a thin taper of blackened parchment. Burnt at one end, the tightly folded taper looked like it had been torn from a pocket book. Lavender took off his gloves and unfolded the flimsy material. The burnt end disintegrated in his hands as he did so.

He groaned with frustration and moved over towards the better light at the entrance of the cave. Woods joined him and craned his neck to peer down at the faint, spidery writing. The only two words that remained decipherable were ‘Redesdale Arms.

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