‘My word you look bad, if you don’t mind my saying so sir.’
‘It’s just the wet and the climb Crabb,’ replied Ravenscroft coughing. ‘We’ll just rest here for a time, before we go on. I’ll be alright in a little while. It certainly is a grand view.’
‘Over there is Malvern with Worcester beyond,’ said Crabb pointing ‘And there is the River Severn in the distance. Behind us is Ledbury, and they do say you can see Hereford on a fine day, and half of Wales as well, if your luck holds.’
‘Let’s go on Crabb. The sooner we catch this fellow, the better it will be for all of us.’
They began to make their way gradually along one of the ridges that ran alongside the top of the hill. Despite the temporary shelter from the wind, Ravenscroft began to find that his whole body was beginning to shake with the cold and wet. ‘Damn it Crabb. I don’t feel that I can go on for much longer,’ he said sneezing again.
‘You look decidedly ill sir. Perhaps you are going down with a chill? May I suggest that you go back to the inn and wait there? I’ll inform you if there are any developments,’ suggested Crabb.
‘I think I will take your advice. If I hear nothing from you, I’ll come and re-join you later,’ replied Ravenscroft making his way down one of the paths.
Clutching the collar of his wet coat with one of his hands, he made his way back down the slippery slope, until he eventually found himself in the clearing once more. He paused at the entrance to the inn, coughing to clear his lungs from the congestion that threatened to engulf him.
‘My word sir, you look as though you could do with a drink. Sit yourself down there sir, in front of the fire, and I’ll bring you some of our finest ale over to you,’ said the landlord as he entered the bar.
Ravenscroft thanked the man, walked over to the log fire, removed his wet overcoat, cleaned his spectacles and warmed his hands near the welcoming flames.
‘There you are sir. I could bring you some bread and cheese, and a slice of meat pie if you would like sir.’
‘That is an offer which I cannot refuse,’ replied Ravenscroft, coughing and then blowing his nose. He took a welcome swig of the ale, and stood before the fire attempting to dry out his wet clothes, but although he could feel the heat from the flames on his hands, he found that his body was still shaking with the coldness that had seemed to enter his very bones.
The landlord returned presently bearing a plate of food which he placed on the table near to Ravenscroft. ‘No luck catching that ruffian yet then?’ he inquired.
‘Crabb and the men are searching the hills,’ replied Ravenscroft slicing a piece of cheese. ‘I hope we may be able to apprehend the fellow before dark. You may know the man. Tall, blind, wears a long ragged overcoat. Perhaps he has been in here?’
‘I knows the man you mean, and no mistake. He ain’t been in here, but I have seen him a few times on the hills. Locals call him Old Penny.’
‘Old Penny?’ inquired Ravenscroft eating a piece of bread.
‘Folks call him that, on account of him not havin two pennies to rub together like. They says he lives wild on the hills, although some folk says he lives in some old cottage out near Hollybush, whilst others swear they have seen him living in some old cave or other. Always seemed harmless enough, but now he’s gone and killed our Doctor Gladwyn, so your constable says.’
‘It would seem highly likely. He was certainly seen in the vicinity of the crime. We will know more when we catch him. My word this cheese is good,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘If you thinks that’s good sir, wait until you has tried the meat pie,’ said the landlord cheerfully leaving the room, ‘I’ll bring you a slice of wife’s apple pie as well, in a few minutes.’
Ravenscroft settled down to enjoy his lunch and gradually began to feel his strength returning. After consuming the meat pie, and then the apple pie, and downing another tankard of ale, Ravenscroft stood in front of the fire and felt the steam rising from his damp clothes. He took out his pocket watch. One thirty. They would have another four or five hours of daylight left; long enough, he considered, to make their arrest. After all the man was blind and could not have gone far. Soon he would need to make his way back up the hill and join in the search, but first he would spend a few more minutes warming his aching limbs before the flames. He drew up the chair in front of the crackling log, and gazed into the flickering flames, thinking he saw the features of the blind man in the red glow there. He let a loud yawn, stretched out his legs, and gradually felt his eyelids growing heavy as his head fell on his chest.
He awoke suddenly with a start. He must have fallen asleep. The fire had burnt down to its embers, and the new log which had recently been placed there was gently hissing. He reached for his pocket watch, and realised he had been asleep for three hours. Cursing his own negligence, he looked out of the window. The sun had disappeared and the skies looked grey and threatening.
Ravenscroft rose from his seat and stretched his aching limbs. His forehead felt wet and clammy to the touch, his cough persistent as it had been previously. Crabb and the men would be wondering where he had got to. He must re-join them as soon as possible. He reached for his coat, left some money on the counter for his host, and made his way out of the inn.
Slowly he made his way up the same path he had climbed that morning, pausing every so often to ease his congested lungs, and wipe the sweat away from his brow. He had been instructed by his superior to take a holiday, a rest cure, and now here he was struggling up a lonely hill, on the edge of civilization, feeling as though he was but an inch away from dying of a fever bought on by the morning’s awful weather, and wishing that he could be somewhere warm and comfortable, where he would not have to worry about catching criminals ever again.
After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the summit of the hill, and as he looked up at the sky, he fought to clear his head from the dizziness which he felt would overwhelm him. Feeling alone and dejected on the top of the great hill, he peered into the distance and was relieved when he thought he detected a group of figures standing on the next hill in the range. He started to walk towards the group, and as he drew nearer he saw Crabb raising his hands in the air and frantically beckoning him to join them. He increased his pace. Perhaps they had been successful in tracking down their quarry? As he clambered down the slope of the hill, towards the lower hill, Crabb came forwards to meet him.
‘We’ve got him sir.’
‘Well done Crabb.’
‘It’s not all good news though. Follow me sir.’
Ravenscroft followed his constable along the path that ran along a kind of plateau high up between the two hills.
‘One of the men found him down there,’ said Crabb pointing below them, towards a clump of trees.
The two men scrambled down the side of the hill. There lying on the ground, was the body of the blind man.
‘He must have lost his footing on the path above, and rolled all the way down here, hitting his head on the rocks as he fell, until this clump of trees halted his fall,’ said Crabb.
The other policemen and searchers began to gather around, as Ravenscroft knelt down by the side of the body. ‘He doesn’t seem to have any possessions on him,’ he said after examining his pockets.
‘There appears to be a kind of cave up there sir, where he may have lived. He must have been making his way back there, when he fell.’
Ravenscroft made his way back up the slope and followed Crabb into a small cave that had been made on the side of the hill.
‘It’s a bit smelly and wet, sir. I don’t think I would like to live here,’ said Crabb.
‘Me neither Crabb,’ replied Ravenscroft searching through a pile of old rags that lay on some straw bedding in one corner of the cave. ‘Looks as though this is the remains of his breakfast,’ he said turning over some crusts of bread and a half eaten apple with his foot, and sneezing violently as he did so.