I tried to stand, but my body wouldn't respond. Get up! Come on, move! I clambered on to my hands and knees, mud and water soaking into my clothes. But my vision was clearing now, the blood-red mist lifting. I retched as my diaphragm spasmed. Sucking in ragged breaths, I used the car to drag myself to my feet.
I took a step and clutched at the car again as my legs almost gave way. Cross's torch had rolled against a front tyre, throwing a flat white light across the grass. In it I saw the policewoman. She lay sprawled in the grass, in the same broken posture as she'd fallen. There had been a horrible finality to the sound Monk's fist had made on her jaw.
But there was nothing I could do for her, or for Miller either. Snatching up the torch, I flung open the car boot. The cabin light was broken, but the dim yellow glow might act as a guide when the back-up arrived. I paused just long enough to grab the blanket from inside and throw it over Cross.
Then I went after Sophie and Monk.
I'd only a vague idea of which way they'd gone. The car had crashed on the edge of a wood, and the gnarled trees hemmed me in as I broke into a shambling run. The ground beneath them was a jumble of moss-covered rocks and bog grass which I skidded and slipped on. I slowed, shining the torch around.
'SOPHIE!'
My shout was soaked up by the fog. There was no answering cry, no sign of a struggle. The only noise was my own hoarse breathing and the dripping rustle of wet branches. Monk had planned this, I thought bleakly. Either he'd been watching the house and known Sophie had a police guard, or he'd anticipated it. The phone call had been to herd us away from Padbury, towards where he was waiting. Even the fog had worked in his favour, obscuring the scarecrow or dummy he'd set up in the road until we were right on top of it.
It was still working for him now, making it impossible to see more than a few yards. I looked desperately for any sign of which way they'd gone, but all around me was a shadowy warren of crooked trees.
I'd lost them.
I stood there while the stark fact sank home. It was hopeless. There was no point in carrying on, not when each step could be taking me further in the wrong direction. All I could do now was go back to Miller and Cross and wait for help to arrive.
Numb with defeat, I began to retrace my steps over the mosscovered rocks. I wasn't even sure where the car was, but in the light from the torch I saw the muddy tracks I'd gouged in the soft moss. I started to follow them before I realized. Heart thumping, I swept the beam back and forth in a wide arc across the ground.
Off to one side, just visible in the fog, another muddy trail had been ploughed through the soft ground.
I'd no way of knowing if it was that of Monk and Sophie, but I doubted many people came in here. The moss covered the rocks like seaweed at a low tide as I set off in the new direction. Whoever had come this way had slipped on it just as I had, smearing it off to reveal the dark, wet stone underneath. If this was Monk he was making no attempt to hide their tracks.
Either he didn't expect anyone to follow them or he didn't care.
A little further on the tree line abruptly ended. I found myself on an overgrown trail, one that was obviously used by walkers. The ground was churned to black mud in both directions. I stared at it, panting. Come on, which way?
Unless I'd become completely turned around, the road lay off to the left. If Monk had stolen a car then that would be where he'd have headed. Yet I hadn't heard an engine, and in the silence the sound would have carried even in this fog.
I hobbled into a run and followed the path deeper into the woods.
The torch beam pitched drunkenly as my boots squelched in the sludge. Then, as though the fog were solidifying, a craggy rock face loomed in front of me. The light fell on a barred iron gate set over a gaping cave mouth. No, not a cave, I realized.
A mine.
Lucas had mentioned an old tin mine a few miles from Padbury, but he'd said it was sealed off. Not any more. The rusty gate hung open, a broken padlock half buried in the trampled mud in front of it.
I took hold of the gate. The iron bars were cold and rough. There was a metallic groan as I swung it open and shone the torch inside.
A tunnel of rock ran down into blackness.
My breath swirled in the fog as I stood there. Now what? I hurt all over. I'd chased after Sophie and Monk without giving any thought to what I'd do if I caught them, but I hadn't expected this. The sight of that dark opening in the rock touched on a primal fear that made the hairs on my neck stand on end.
But I had no choice. The blue display of my phone lit up like a beacon in the darkness, showing me what I'd already guessed: no signal. And I'd wasted enough time. Taking out my wallet, I dropped it by the gate so that the police would know where I'd gone. You hope.
Wiping the clammy sweat from my hands, I gripped the torch and started down the mine.
The shaft was barely high enough to stand upright. The air had the cold, dank smell of an old cellar. Water dripped from the roof timbers and trickled in runnels across the sloping floor. My footfalls echoed as I scuffed through it. The shaft began to drop more steeply, a rough-hewn wormhole hacked out by long dead miners. It fell away in front of me, vanishing beyond the reach of the torch.
I'd been walking for about five minutes when the ground began to level out. The shaft opened up, vaulting to twice its height as the walls drew back on either side. But directly ahead my light showed a tumbled mound of rock and shale. At some time in the past the entire roof had come down: jagged timbers protruded from between slabs of granite like broken bones.
The mine was blocked.
Water had formed a shallow pool where the rockfall had partially dammed the run-off trickling down the shaft. I splashed through it, shining the torch around in the hope of finding a way past. There was nothing. I couldn't understand: I'd been certain Monk had brought Sophie down here. But I'd seen no tunnels leading off the main shaft, and the cave-in was impassable.
Or was it? I shone the torch over the blocked shaft one more time. The shadows from the rocks and shattered timbers jerked in the beam, but the fall looked solid. Then I moved the torch again and my breath caught in my throat.
One shadow didn't shift with the rest. It was in the angle where the uppermost rocks met the roof, a patch of impenetrable darkness. I picked up a stone and threw it. Instead of a clatter, it vanished silently inside.
Not a shadow. A hole.
It made sense. Monk wouldn't let himself be boxed in, and with the mine entrance sealed and the main shaft blocked for decades it was possible no one even knew this was here. As long as the gate remained padlocked, Monk could have had the run of the place.
But what lay on the other side?
I tested the nearest rock. It didn't budge. Neither did any of the others. The torch beam cast angled shadows as I carefully hoisted myself up. I reached for another handhold and felt something give beneath my foot.
There was a loud crack.
I froze. When nothing happened I shone the torch down. One of the rotten timbers sticking out from the rocks had snapped. God. I took a moment to let my heart rate slow, then levered myself the rest of the way. Now I could see what had caused the hole. A slab of granite had fractured from the top of the tunnel, leaving a gap high up in the angle between roof and wall. All but invisible from the ground, it was like a toothless mouth, perhaps three feet wide and two high.
Cold as it was, I was sweating as I shone the torch inside. The hole extended for a few yards before the beam vanished into darkness. It was wide enough to crawl through, though not to turn round. The only way to get back would be by shuffling backwards, feet first.
And praying I didn't get stuck.
I lowered my forehead on to the edge of the hole. The granite was grainy and cold against my skin. I can't do this. I thought about the weight of ancient rock suspended inches above me. The roof had collapsed once already. Even if I wasn't crushed I'd no idea what lay on the other side. If I crawled through I might not be able to get back. You've done all you can. Let the police come down here with a proper search team. A craven part of me whispered that it was the best thing to do. No one would blame me: I didn't even know for sure that Monk had brought Sophie this way. And even if he had, what good could I do? The sensible thing would be to go back for help.