‘There is no sign of any other vehicle having been here recently, other than Gladwyn’s trap and our own cab,’ said Crabb.
‘My God Crabb! Look up there on top of the hill, just where the sun is breaking through all that cloud. There’s someone up there looking down on us! Can you make out who it is?’
‘All I can see is a tall figure wearing some kind of long coat,’ said Crabb.
‘Precisely! Our friend is the blind man, who called on Gladwyn and lured him out here to his death.’
‘I’ll get up there after him,’ shouted Crabb.
‘Wait. He’s heading back over the hill towards the road. If you take the path up to the hill, I’ll head back to the road in the cab, and see if I can cut him off. At least this dammed rain is easing.’
Crabb set off up the path. The figure on top of the hill had now completely disappeared.
‘Quickly back towards the road,’ instructed Ravenscroft to the cab man.
The driver turned the cab slowly, and with care, in the confined space, Ravenscroft irritably stamping his feet on the ground as he did so. The manoeuvre completed, Ravenscroft jumped in, and they set off at a brisk pace. After what seemed an endless eternity to Ravenscroft, they gained the main road and turned to their left before the cab came to a halt in the space between the Raggedstone and Hollybush hills.
Ravenscroft jumped down from the cab, and looked anxiously all around. A path on his left appeared to go up onto the Raggedstone. If the blind man was still on the hill, he must surely come this way, thought Ravenscroft. On the other hand if he had arrived too late the fellow could have crossed the road by now and have headed on over the Hollybush hill. Who would come down the path first — Crabb, or the mysterious blind man? If it turned out to be the latter, he would be ready for him; he was determined that this was one quarry that he would not let escape.
Suddenly a breathless Crabb came crashing down the path.
‘Damn it. He’s gone from us!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft.
‘I ran all the way sir,’ said a breathless Crabb.
‘Did you see the fellow at all?’
‘No sir, but he must have come this way. There is only this one path that leads down from Raggedstone.’
‘Then he was too quick for us! Damn the man. For someone who is supposed to be blind, he seems to know these hills remarkably well,’ muttered Ravenscroft.
‘He moves like the speed of lightening, I know that,’ complained a breathless, annoyed Crabb.
‘You did your best Crabb. He had a good start on us. He must have run down here, shortly before I arrived, and made his escape up there over the Hollybush hill. See here,’ said Ravenscroft examining the ground, ‘If I’m not mistaken these are boot marks going in that direction.’
‘We may still be able to catch him, sir. If he carries on over the hills, he will eventually reach the British Camp. If we return to Malvern, I could have some men searching the hills from there.’
‘That seems a good idea, Crabb. At least the sun is starting to come out at last. The rain has cleared up and we have several hours of daylight left to catch the villain. You take the cab back to Malvern and get your men out on the hills. I’ll go back to the cottage, make a search there, and put poor Gladwyn’s body in the trap, and then join you all at the British Camp,’ said Ravenscroft sneezing. ‘Go quickly Crabb.’
Ravenscroft watched as the cab drove off down the road and into the distance, and then made his way back down the track towards the cottage. It was obvious that the blind man had lured Gladwyn out to Raggesdstone, on the pretext that his wife had been seriously ill, and that once there, he had killed the doctor. But why had the blind man committed such an atrocity? Then he remembered the note that Gladwyn had sent, and he wondered what had been the urgent news that Gladwyn had been so anxious to tell him. Gladwyn had said that he had some important information regarding the deaths of Pitzer and Sommersby. Could it have been that Gladwyn had discovered who had murdered the two men, and that knowledge had now cost him his own life? If only he and Crabb had arrived a few minutes earlier they might have been able to have saved the doctor’s life — but they had not, and now he had three bodies on his hands; three crimes to solve. But worse than all that — he had let the killer slip through his hands yet again!
Dejectedly Ravenscroft walked into the cottage, and looked around at its meagre contents — a broken chair, and a pile of old rotten rags in one corner of the room — there was certainly no evidence that a sick woman could have been dying there.
He made his way out into the overgrown, abandoned garden, gazing down at the ground, looking for anything which might yield a clue, as to who the perpetrator of the crime might be, but realising that his search would probably prove futile. There was poor Gladwyn still lying in a pool of blood on the ground. Ravenscroft made a search of his pockets, but could find nothing of interest, that would have identified the killer of the three men.
Slowly he edged the body upwards, and dragged it over towards the trap. With all his strength he managed to lift it into the vehicle. Then finding a blanket, which the late doctor had evidently used to wrap round his feet and legs on his journeys, Ravenscroft draped it over the dead body. He returned to the garden, recovered the blood stained rock, and placed it by the side of the deceased man.
Pausing to regain his breath, he looked up towards the summit of the Raggedstone Hill, where the blind man had stood but a few minutes previous, and the longer he stared at the hill top, the more it seemed to Ravenscroft that he was imaging the man still standing there, pointing down at him — and almost mocking his failure.
And then he suddenly realised, that although the rain had cleared, and the sun was shining brightly, the shadow of the Raggedstone had fallen not only upon the old deserted cottage — but upon himself as well!
CHAPTER SIX
Ravenscroft drove quickly away from the cottage, anxious to escape from the shadow of the hill, seeking the sun so that his wet clothes might dry, and so that some warmth might return to his aching body.
As he entered the grounds of the inn, at the clearing below the British Camp, he found that Crabb had preceded him.
‘There you are sir. I’ve sent three men up onto the hills. If he comes this way we will surely have him.’
‘Then let us go and join them,’ said Ravenscroft, tying the reigns of the trap to a post. ‘I best go into the inn first and explain our presence here. Poor Gladwyn is there in the back of the trap.’
‘I’ve done that already sir. They have also sent three of their hands from the inn onto the hills to assist us in our search.’
‘Good thinking Crabb,’ replied Ravenscroft sneezing and blowing his nose.
‘You could do with getting in the dry sir,’ suggested Crabb.
‘It is of no concern Crabb. The sun and the breeze will soon help to dry me out.’
The two men began to make their way up the slopes of the hill, and after a steady climb found themselves on the summit. From here they looked out onto the many fields of the three counties, which spread out before them like a patchwork quilt. Ravenscroft was glad that they had reached the end of their climb, and could feel his heart pounding, and his breathing coming in short gasps.
‘He could be coming this way sir,’ said Crabb pointing to where the range of hills stretched into the distance. ‘Our men and the servants from the inn are making their way along the top of the hills as well as searching the lower slopes. I’ve also sent word to Ledbury and asked them to send some men to make their way up from the Eastnor side, in case he decides to go that way. It’s only a matter of time before we have him sir.’
‘I sincerely hope so,’ gasped Ravenscroft wiping his wet face and spectacles with his handkerchief.