She was whispering something in his ear.
'What?' He loosened his hold.
'Sir, are you there?' Stackpole's voice sounded loud in the outer room.
'What is it, Will?' He tore himself from her arms.
'Sir, they've found him!' The constable burst in on them. He was red in the face and panting.
'Who?'
'Pike!'
'Where?'
'Ashdown Forest. They're watching him now. At least, they think it's him, that's all I know.' He was breathing hard. 'Guildford have been trying to reach me. Sir, the chief inspector wants you back in London right away…!'
She took him in her car to the station. He wanted time to speak to her. The words that for so long had been dammed up inside him were ready to overflow.
But the whistle of the approaching train sounded as she drew up outside the station.
They kissed in the darkness.
'Promise me you'll take care. Come back as soon as you can.'
Holding her for a moment in his arms he realized with a surge of happiness that the burden of anxiety he'd carried since their first time together had slipped from his shoulders unnoticed.
The fear he'd always had that each meeting might be their last.
Part Four
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath.
I have a rendezvous with death…
Alan Seeger, 'Rendezvous'
Sinclair rose from behind his desk. He surveyed the men assembled before him. Besides Hollingsworth and Styles they included six uniformed officers — two of them sergeants — all selected for their skill in marksmanship.
'To those of you who have been summoned from your homes to the Yard this evening, I apologize,' he began. 'But as you will see in a moment the matter is extremely grave.'
The door opened and Bennett came in. He was dressed in evening clothes, the gold studs gleaming in his shirt front. Hollingsworth, who was seated at Madden's desk, rose and offered his chair to the deputy assistant commissioner. The others stood grouped in a semi-circle.
'Three days ago a woodcutter named Emmett Hogg fell into a pit in Ashdown Forest. Unfortunately he didn't bother to report it until today, even though rural constables throughout southern England have been spreading the word for some time now that they want to be informed about any fresh digging in forest areas. At our request, I might add.
'Hogg made his report to the village bobby at Stonehill — that's in the Crowborough district — and this afternoon the constable went out to inspect the site, taking a friend with him, a local gamekeeper.
Luckily, as it turned out, because when they got near the keeper spotted some movement in the bushes. The constable — his name's Proudfoot — decided not to approach immediately, another piece of good judgement, and after a while they spotted a man moving about in the area. They were some distance away and the site was in the middle of thick undergrowth. But at a certain moment they got a clear view of him. He was carrying a rifle.'
A murmur went around the group. Sinclair caught Bennett's eye.
'Not a shotgun,' the chief inspector declared emphatically. 'A Lee-Enfield. They saw him clear the breech and check the firing mechanism. Both men are clear on that point.'
He glanced down at his desk.
'Some of you will have seen the photograph we began circulating today of the man we wish to question in connection with the murders at Melling Lodge.
It's possible, even likely, that the individual observed by Proudfoot in Ashdown Forest this afternoon is Amos Pike, the man we're seeking.'
The murmur, this time, was louder.
'In requesting information about any unauthorized excavations we asked the various police authorities to impress on their constables the need to exercise caution.
Proudfoot acted with good sense in not approaching this man. What he did was leave his friend watching from cover while he returned himself to Stonehill and telephoned the central police station at Crowborough. They in turn rang Tunbridge Wells where I'm glad to say the local CID chief thought it worth while to get in touch with me right away.'
Sinclair paused to collect his thoughts.
'The situation now is as follows: Proudfoot has returned to join the keeper and will keep watch on the site for the rest of the night. In the meantime, the Sussex police are putting together a force of uniformed officers, some of whom will be armed. As you will be.
We'll rendezvous with them at first light and surround the area.
'To anticipate your questions, I did consider taking action along these lines tonight, but decided against it. The presence of up to two dozen policemen stumbling around in the woods in darkness seemed to me more likely to alert this man and drive him off than achieve any useful end.
'As a precaution, however, in the event that he might be planning to attack some household tonight, a number of constables were dispatched to Stonehill from Crowborough earlier today. The site of the pit is about three miles from the village and the police will patrol houses in the district all night, making no attempt to hide their presence. After considerable thought, I've decided not to alert the villagers. Anything we say to them will only create panic and add to our difficulties.'
One of the sergeants held up his hand. 'What if he slips away in the meantime, sir?'
Sinclair shook his head. 'That's the one thing I'm not concerned about. Always supposing it is Pike, we believe he's engaged in constructing a military-type dugout in the forest. It's what he did in the woods above Melling Lodge before he attacked the house. He takes his time over building it. Provided he's not disturbed there's no reason to think he won't be back.
And when he does, we'll be waiting for him.
'But let me say straight away — I don't expect him to leave tonight. Tomorrow is Sunday, a day of rest, and I've no doubt he'll want to put it to use.'
The sergeant spoke up again: 'Did Hogg get a good look at the pit, sir? Could he describe it?'
'The answer to both questions is no.' Sinclair's expression was wry. 'It appears Hogg was dead drunk, which may explain why he fell into the hole in the first place. He doesn't seem to have noticed anything, except that it was a hole that wasn't there before.'
The sergeant grunted. 'What time do we move tomorrow, sir?'
'I want you all on duty at a quarter to five. Spend the night here if you wish, or go home. But don't be late. We'll draw weapons from the armoury and proceed to Stonehill by motor-car. The Yard has put two vehicles at our disposal.' The slight ironic emphasis given by the chief inspector to the numeral was noticed only by Bennett. 'I have something further to say to you.'
He paused deliberately and let his gaze settle on each officer in turn. When he spoke again it was in an altered tone.
'I have every intention of arresting Amos Pike, if it is he, and bringing him before the courts. But be under no illusion. This is likely the most dangerous man you will ever be asked to face. His military record was outstanding, but while that may have been of benefit to his country, it's no comfort to us. He's a hardened killer, with no reason not to kill again. Keep that in mind. He may well choose to resist arrest. If he fires on you with his rifle, or refuses to drop it on command, you are to shoot him. If he threatens you with rifle and bayonet, you are to shoot him. You will shoot to kill. I take full responsibility. Is that clear?'
Silence greeted his pronouncement. Then a low mutter came from the semi-circle.
'Very well. That will be all for now. We'll meet tomorrow morning.'
He watched as the men filed out. Styles, at a signal from Hollingsworth, followed the sergeant into the side office and shut the door behind them. Bennett rose. 'Well, Chief Inspector!'