In view of the darkness, the fact that the valley was unlit, and there were too many natural hiding places to justify calling out the police helicopter, a decision was taken to abandon the search for Fox until daybreak. Instead, roadblocks were erected on either side of Shenstead Valley and the occupants of the village and the three outlying farms were given the choice of whether they wished to remain inside their homes or be escorted to temporary accommodation elsewhere.
The tenant farmers and their families chose to remain on site with shotguns leveled at their front doors. The Woodgates and their children went to Stephen's mother in Dorchester, while the banker's twin sons and their girlfriends, bored with household chores, happily accepted hotel rooms for the night. The two commercial rents returned hotfoot to London with demands for compensation ringing in police ears. It was a disgrace. They hadn't come to Dorset on holiday to be terrorized by maniacs.
Prue Weldon threw a fit and refused to leave or be left alone, clinging to Martin Barker's hand like a limpet and begging him to make her husband come home. This he succeeded in doing by impressing on Dick that the police did not have the manpower to protect unoccupied buildings. Drunk as a skunk, he was driven back to Shenstead by Jack and Belinda who decided to stay after he loaded his shotgun and fired it at Prue's chicken casserole.
Surprisingly, the Bartletts were unanimous in their decision to stay, both insisting that there was too much of value in their house to leave it undefended. Eleanor was convinced her rooms would be vandalized-"people like that defecate on the carpets and urinate on the walls"-and Julian feared for his cellar-"there's a fortune in wine down there." They were advised to go upstairs and stay in one room with the door barricaded, but from the way Julian started prowling the hall it seemed doubtful they would take the advice.
As for Vera Dawson, she agreed to be taken up to the Manor House to wait with the Colonel and Mr. Ankerton. Bob was away fishing, she told the two young policemen, as she sucked and mumbled her way into an overcoat before locking the front door. They assured her he'd be stopped at one of the roadblocks when he came back and brought to the Manor to join her. She tapped their hands flirtatiously. Bob would like that, she told them with a happy little smile. He worried about his old lady. She still had her marbles, of course, but her memory wasn't as good as it used to be.
The problem of what to do with the travelers was a difficult one. Police activity around Fox's bus was intense, and the travelers weren't inclined to stand idly by while the vehicle was searched. The Alsatians barked nonstop, and the children kept escaping their parents' clutches. There were also persistent demands to be allowed to leave on the basis that Bella was the only one who knew anything about Fox. Unimpressed, the police decided to escort them in convoy to a site outside Dorchester where they could be questioned the following day.
This rapidly became impossible after one of their number refused to wait his turn or follow instructions, and jammed the exit when his coach bogged down in the softening ground. Furious, Barker ordered him and his family back to Bella's bus while he worked out another strategy for ensuring the safety of nine adults and fourteen children without a vehicle large enough to take them out of the valley.
27
Bella, magnificent in purple, shepherded her three daughters through the front door and stuck out a hand toward James. "Ta, mister," she said. "I've told 'em all to keep their fingers to themselves so you won't get no trouble." She flicked a sideways glance at Ivo. "That's right, ain't it, Ivo?"
"Shut your mouth, Bella."
She ignored him. "Mr. Barker tells me you've got Wolfie," she went on, squeezing James's fingers like sausages. "How's he doing?"
Overwhelmed, James patted her hand. "He's fine, my dear. At the moment we can't prize him away from my granddaughter. They're upstairs in one of the bedrooms. I believe she's reading him Aesop's Fables."
"Poor little bleeder. He's got this thing about cops… took off like a fucking rocket when Mr. Barker asked him questions. I kept telling him not to be worried, but it didn't do no good. Can I see him? Him and me are friends. Might make him feel better if he knows I ain't abandoned him."
James looked to his solicitor for rescue. "What do you think, Mark? Will Wolfie swap Nancy for Bella? It might persuade Nancy to go to hospital."
But Mark was under assault from the threadbare Alsatians that were sniffing around his trouser legs. "Perhaps we could put them in the scullery," he suggested.
"They'll bark nonstop," Zadie warned. "They don't like being away from the kids. Here," she said giving the leads to one of her sons. "Watch they don't lift their legs anywhere, and keep 'em off the sofas. And you," she said, cuffing another son around the back of his head, "don't go breaking things."
Martin Barker, coming in behind her, suppressed a smile. "This is very good of you, sir," he told James. "I'm leaving Sean Wyatt in charge. If everyone stays in the same room, it'll be easier to keep track."
"Where do you suggest?"
"The kitchen?"
James looked at the sea of faces. "But the children look so tired. Wouldn't it be better to put them to bed? We have enough rooms in all conscience."
Martin Barker looked at Mark, tilted his chin toward the pieces of silver on a Chippendale table by the door, and gave a small shake of his head. "The kitchen, James," Mark said firmly. "There's food in the freezer. Let's eat first and see how things go, eh? I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving. How's Vera on the cooking front?"
"Terrible."
"I'll do it," said Bella, pushing her girls between Ivo and the Chippendale table as his fingers strayed toward a cigarette case. "My friend here can peel the potatoes." She gripped James firmly by the arm and drew him along with her. "What's wrong with Nancy then? Did that fucker Fox hurt her?"
Wolfie pinched Nancy frantically as Vera Dawson peered through the gap in the door. "She's back… she's back," he whispered into her ear.
Nancy broke off from "Androcles and the Lion" with a whistle of pain. "Hoo-oosh!" She was sitting in an armchair in Mark's bedroom with Wolfie on her lap and, every time the child moved her rib moved with him, setting off sympathetic tremors in her right arm. She'd had a vain hope that if she read to him, he'd fall asleep, but the old woman wouldn't leave them alone, and Wolfie wriggled in panic every time he saw her.
Nancy assumed it was Mrs. Dawson's mumbling and muttering that frightened him, otherwise it was a bizarre reaction to someone he didn't know. His alarm was so powerful that she could feel him trembling. She eased him on her lap, and frowned at the old woman. What on earth was the silly old thing's problem? Nancy had asked her several times to go downstairs, but she seemed drawn to stare at them as if they were freaks in the circus, and Nancy was beginning to feel the same aversion toward her as the child did.
"She won't hurt you," she whispered in Wolfie's ear. "She's old, that's all."
But he shook his head and clung to her in desperation.
Mystified, Nancy abandoned courtesy and issued an order. "Shut the door and go away, Mrs. Dawson," she said sharply. "If you don't, I'll phone Mr. Ankerton and tell him you're annoying us."
The old woman came into the room. "There's no telephone in here, miss."
Oh, for God's sake! "Let go for a moment," she told Wolfie. "I need to get at my mobile." She felt in her fleece pocket, breathing shallowly as Wolfie pressed against her. "Okay, back as we were. Do you know how to work one of these? Good man. The code to unlock it is 5378. Now scroll through the numbers till you come to Mark Ankerton then press call and hold it to my mouth."