He might have some explaining to do, though, about why he hadn’t mentioned doing Bossie that simple favour. That was his worry, however one might sympathise with him. George held on to the telephone after he had cut the call.
‘Mind if I go ahead, Sam? Philip knows nothing beyond the fact that he span you a yarn to cover up something else he wanted to do. Hullo Jack? George Felse here. You know young Bossie’s gang better than I do. Get up here and round up any of ’em you can get hold of. Wait, I’ll get the list from Sam, I’m calling from his place. Sam, did he mention who was going with him on this abbey trip?’
Sam named them, the first faithful few Bossie had named. George relayed the information briskly. ‘I’ll stay here on call until you find at least one of ’em. The thing is, we’ve lost Bossie. He laid a smoke-screen – yes, quite definitely of intent – to cover a night’s absence. No one knows where he is, not until you collar Ginger or one of the others. Get with it!’
‘I’m gone,’ said Sergeant Moon, and hung up without a single question. George called the Mottisham Abbey number, which by this time at night would ring only in the caretaker’s flat in the lodge. But there was no answer from John Stubbs.
‘He probably makes a complete round at night,’ said Sam, straining to catch the distant, insistent ringing. ‘He may be the other side of the grounds. And we don’t know that’s where Bossie’s likely to be.’
‘Yes,’ said Toby, ‘we do. The whole day has been his show. That parchment of his came from there, and he was the only one who knew it, and if that gang went there today, it was because he gave the orders.’
Sam said ruefully: ‘He said they were planning a special project.’
‘You can say that again!’ agreed Toby. ‘But it was Bossie’s project, and very special. Shouldn’t we just go straight down there, Mr Felse?’
‘Wait till we hear from Jack Moon first. But I’ll get someone to go in from the station at Comerford.’
And after that they waited, all of them, even Barbara and Willie the Twig too involved to break away, all waiting for Sergeant Moon to come up with one of Bossie’s chorister-gangsters, and prise his general’s secrets out of him. Jenny, white-faced but grimly composed, sat nursing the musical box that contained a tiny china shepherd, complete with ribboned crook and angelic lambs, and played ‘The Shepherd on the Rock’, though she had quite forgotten that she was clutching it as if it had been a charm to retain hold of her own strayed lamb.
It was a quarter of an hour before Sergeant Moon called back, which seemed an age, though actually it was good going, in view of what he had to report.
‘Believe it or not, yours isn’t the only missing lad tonight. It’s infectious. Ginger Gibbs came late for his tea, moped around an hour or so, and has since disappeared. No panic there yet, he often goes off on his own ploys until getting on for ten, but his folks don’t know where to look for him. Spuggy Price has also made off again, and being a couple of years younger he is expected to be in before now, and they’re getting annoyed about it. Gwen the Shop says her Bill and those two, and maybe Jimmy Grocott, too, she thinks she heard his voice, had their heads together in her store-shed at the back, round about half past seven. Since then she hasn’t seen any of them. But I’ve run one to earth for you finally – little Tom Rogers. He wasn’t at the meeting in Gwen’s shed, but he was with the gang this afternoon. Seems they all went round Mottisham Abbey together, and after they came out, Bossie said he was going to get in and have a hunt round during the night. He wouldn’t let anybody else stay, but they saw him in through the fence up the back lane before they quit. Tom thinks they must have got more and more worried about it after they got home, and made up their minds they must go back, and either fetch him away or stand by him. That’ll be Ginger, is my guess. Got the germ of a conscience. Anyhow, this lad’s pretty sure that’s where they’ll all be. You don’t want Tom, do you? I know everything he knows, now.’
‘No, send him home to bed. We’ve got enough of them on our hands. We’re on our way down. If you get there before us, see if you can locate the warden for me, and hang on to him if you do find him. There’s no getting in touch with him by ’phone so far. Nobody’s answering.’
‘Stubbs?’ Sergeant Moon took that up sharply. ‘That’s interesting, because I got a flash from Brice in Birmingham, just before you called me out. He’s been following up all the connections there, and came up with a nice little item on Stubbs. Before he came to this job at the abbey, and started frequenting the Rainbows, it seems he was courting steady in the city. Young woman in the antiques business. Dropped her after he got in with Rainbow on his home ground, and clapped eyes on Mrs Rainbow. You’ve got it! – before that he was mashing the Lavery girl!’
‘Toby, come with me,’ said George. ‘You know the exact place Bossie’ll be after. Sam, I know you’ll want to be on hand, too.’
‘I’m coming,’ said Jenny firmly, and put down the musical box gently on the hall table, astonished to find her fingers stiff and bloodless when they released their hold.
‘We’ll be enough. Jenny. No panic now, we know where he is, we’ll go and get him.’
‘We don’t know it’ll be that simple. We don’t know what he’s set in motion. You know him! I want to be there.’
‘You come on down after us with Barbara and Willie, then.’ He caught Barbara’s eye, saw the glance she exchanged with Willie, and knew that he was understood. The Land-Rover would be driven down to Mottisham at an unwontedly sedate pace, and parked discreetly away from the main action, in the hope that by that time Bossie would have been hauled out of hiding safe and sound. Not that Jenny was a hysterical type, far from it; but once already her infant prodigy had almost got himself murdered, and parents are apt to overreact to that sort of thing.
‘Come on, then!’ said George, and led the way out to his own car at a run, with Toby and Sam on his heels. The greater their start, the better.
The night was dark, moonless and overcast. Traffic was always light up here at night, and the sense of the border hills closed in even on lighted roads, like the shadow of history, age-old and solitary and quite unmoved.
‘Now suppose you tell me,’ suggested Sam, with arduous calm, ‘just what you know about all this business that we don’t know.’ And Toby told him the reason for Bossie’s misplaced loyalty. Apart from that they were all silent until they turned into the lane that led to the gates of the abbey, when Toby suddenly said aloud: ‘I wish now I’d never touched the bloody thing!’
‘Oh, come off it!’ said Sam comfortingly. ‘I wish I had a quid for every time I’ve said something like that. What makes you think you should be any different?’
There was one police car waiting for them, as well as Sergeant Moon’s ancient Ford. The portion of the drive between the old entrance gates and the ticket-kiosk was still shrouded in its overgrown trees and shrubs, and hid unusual activities very efficiently. Jack Moon came out of the darkness to meet them as they climbed out of the car.
‘I sent a couple of the lads round to look for the place where the kid got in. We’ve got it pinned and covered now, if he slips out that way. We’ve made no other move yet.’
‘And Stubbs still isn’t around?’ The resident warden was no scholar himself, his orders as regards the work in hand came from Charles Goddard, but his responsibility for the site, like his authority within it, was absolute, and he should have been there. ‘What are his free nights, do we know?’
‘We do,’ said Moon flatly. ‘On Wednesday, Thursday and Friday he can be away the entire day if he likes, but he’s responsible for security from six o’clock on. Saturday and Sunday evenings he has a relief to make the evening rounds, so he’s free from closing time. The rest of the week he’s in sole charge, apart from the help he gets during the day, which is voluntary but usually plentiful. This is Tuesday, and he should be here. He may be, but if he is, he’s taking a hell of a time over making the round of the property. It’s big, but not that big.’