Dalziel looked at him reflectively and said, Well done, Sergeant. Youre thinking so far ahead, youll end up telling fortunes. OK, Peter, off you go. Tell em I want someone from uniformed who knows left from right to head up the search team. Maggie Burroughsll do nicely. And well need a canteen van. Itll be thirsty work tramping round them fells. And an information caravan for the Common. Ill be here to see they get themselves sorted. Any questions?
No, sir, said Pascoe. Lead on, Sergeant.
Clark went out. As Pascoe followed, Dalziels voice brought him to a halt.
Word of advice, lad, he said.
Always welcome, said Pascoe.
Glad to hear it. So listen in. You do Nobby Clark a favour, dont let him pay you back in beer. Make sure you work the buggers arse off. All right?
Not just a conjuring trick, thought Pascoe. He really does know everything.
Yes, sir, he said. Right off its haunches.
SIX
St Michaels Primary, like Danby itself, had grown.
The original stone building, apparently modelled on the old church from which it took its name, had sprouted several unbecoming modern extensions which compensated in airiness for what they lacked in beauty. The Hall, standing between the church and the school, was clearly designed by the same hand and even had a belfry and stained-glass windows through which filtered a dim religious light to illumine a spacious lofty interior with a stage at one end and a small gallery at the other.
Pascoe wrinkled his nose as the musty smell set up resonances both of lessons in the gym and of amateur dramatics in draughty village halls. Not that the entertainments on offer here were totally amateur. Among the notice boards Forthcoming Attractions he saw a poster for the opening concert of the eighteenth Mid-Yorkshire Dales Music Festival due to take place the following Wednesday and consisting of a song recital by Elizabeth Wulfstan, mezzo-soprano, and Arne Krog, baritone.
That name again. He recalled the strong young voice singing mournfully, And now the sun will rise as bright/As though no horror had touched the night
The heat wave looked set for many more days, perhaps weeks, but he doubted if thered be any more bright dawning for the Dacres.
For Christs sake! he admonished himself. Dont rush to embrace the worst.
This will do nicely, he said to Clark, and got on his mobile. Hed already set the operation in motion back at Liggside and this was merely to confirm the location. ETA of the first reinforcements was given as thirty minutes.
Ill go and have a word with Mrs Shimmings, he said. You OK, Sergeant?
The man was pale and drawn, as if hed been exposed to biting winds on a winters day.
Yes, fine. Sorry. Its just being here at the school, the incident room suddenly its really happening. I think up till now Ive been trying to pretend it were different from last time, over in Dendale, I mean. Not that it wasnt the same then to start with, telling ourselves that at worst thered been an accident and little Jenny Hardcastle ud be found or manage to get back herself
Then youll know how these things work, said Pascoe harshly. One thing well need to get sorted quickly is this Benny business. Someones responsible for these graffiti. We need to find out who, then we can start asking why. Any ideas?
Im working on it, said Clark. Has to be a stupid joke and a lousy coincidence, hasnt it, sir? I mean, it were done last night and Lorraine didnt vanish till this morning. And the perp wouldnt do it in advance, would he?
Less chance of being caught, said Pascoe.
But that ud mean the whole thing were planned!
And thats worse than impulse? Well, youre right. Worse for us, I mean. Impulse leaves traces, plans cover them up. Either way, we need the spray artist.
Yes, sir, said Clark. Sir
Yes? prompted Pascoe.
Benny. Benny Lightfoot. Anything you know that I dont? I mean, there could be information that reached HQ but you felt best not to pass on down here, for fear of opening old wounds
You mean, could Benny really be back? said Pascoe grimly. From what Ive heard, I doubt it. But the very fact that you can ask shows how important it is to finger this jokers collar. Get to it.
He walked across the playground to the school. He could see the figure of the head teacher at the window of a classroom he guessed would be Lorraines. Shed been standing at the main entrance when they arrived, but after a brief exchange, hed cut the conversation short and headed into the hall.
Now he joined her in the classroom and said, Sorry about that, Mrs Shimmings, but I had to get things rolling.
Thats OK, she said. I know how these things work.
He recalled then that like Clark, she too had been here before. Looking at her closely, he detected the same symptoms of re-entry to a nightmare she thought shed left behind.
She was a slimly built woman with greying chestnut hair and candid brown eyes. Late forties. Thirty-plus when Dendale died.
She said, So you think the worst?
We prepare for the worst, said Pascoe gently. Tell me about Lorraine.
She was is a bright, intelligent child, a little what they used to call old-fashioned in some ways. It doesnt surprise me to hear that she got up early and decided to take her dog for a walk all by herself. Its not that shes a solitary child. On the contrary, shes extremely sociable and has many friends. But she never has any difficulty performing tasks by herself and on occasion, if given a choice, she will opt for the solitary rather than the communal activity.
After the initial slip, she had kept determinedly, almost pedantically to the present tense. As she talked, Pascoe let his gaze wander round the classroom. Bringing up Rosie had honed his professional eye to the school environment. Now he found himself assessing the quality of wall displays, the evidence of thought and order, the use of material that was stimulating aesthetically, intellectually, mathematically. In this classroom everything looked good. This teacher hadnt shot away on Friday afternoon but had stayed behind after the children had gone, to refine their efforts at tidying up and make sure the room was perfectly prepared for Monday morning. This teacher, he guessed, was going to be devastated when she discovered what had happened to one of her pupils.
He said, Would she go off with a stranger?
Someone offering her sweets in the street, asking her to get into a car, no way, said Mrs Shimmings. But you say shed gone up the dale for a walk? Things are different up there, Mr Pascoe. Do you do any walking yourself?
A little, said Pascoe, thinking of Ellie cajoling her rebellious husband and daughter into completing the Three Peaks Walk last spring.
Then youll know that, in the street if a complete stranger says Hello to you, you think theres something wrong with him, but up there on the hills if you meet anyone, you automatically exchange greetings, sometimes even stop and have a chat. Not to say something would be the odd thing. Yes, I think that nowadays weve all got our children trained to regard strangers with the utmost suspicion, but they learn by example more than precept, and out in the country the example they get is of strangers being greeted almost like old acquaintance.
So she might stop and talk.
She wouldnt be surprised if someone spoke to her and she wouldnt run. Indeed, up there, what would be the point? Didnt she have her dog with her, though?
Dogs are an over-rated form of protection, said Pascoe. Unless theyre so big and fierce, you wouldnt let a little girl take it out alone anyway. This one may have tried. It got badly kicked about for its pains. Any of these Lorraines?
He was looking at a display of paintings with the general heading My Family.
Even as he asked, he saw the neatly printed label LORRAINES FAMILY under a picture of a man and a woman and a dog. The human figures were of roughly equal size, both with broad slice-of-melon smiles. The dog was, relatively, the size of a Shetland pony. Psychologists would probably say this meant she had no hang-ups with either parent, but was really crazy about Tig. Just what youd hope to find in a seven-year-old girl. He recalled his own sinking feeling a little while back when, without comment, Ellie had shown him a painting of Rosies which had her standing there like the fifty-foot woman and himself a mere black blob in a car moving away fast.
Happy family? he said.
Very happy. Ive known the mother since she was a girl.
Of course. You used to teach in Dendale back before they built the reservoir, I gather.
Thats right. Like everyone else, I had to move out. Part of the price of progress.
But in the end, some people were probably glad to go, even to see the valley under water? he probed.
You think Lorraines disappearance may have something to do with what happened back then?
You tell me, Mrs Shimmings, said Pascoe. I wasnt around then. Youve heard about these painted signs? Bennys Back?
She nodded.
So, could he be back? And if so, wheres he been? I heard he was a bit simple.
He could have been living with people who dont ask questions or make judgements, she offered. Like these New Age travellers. Anyway, Benny wasnt simple. In fact, he was very bright.
Im sorry. I was told hed had an accident something about a plate in his head
Oh, that, she said dismissively. I taught Benny both before and after that accident, Mr Pascoe. And he was just as sharp after it as before. But he was always different, and folk in Yorkshire confuse different with daft just as readily as anywhere else. No, he wasnt simple, but he was fey, I think thats the word. I taught him till he was old enough to go to the secondary. That meant taking the bus out of the dale and he wasnt keen. But his father told him to go and do his best, and Benny paid a lot of heed to Saul, his dad. Then, when Benny was twelve, Saul Lightfoot died.
How? asked Pascoe. The policemans question.
He drowned. He was a fine athletic man, said Mrs Shimmings, with what a romantic observer might have called a faraway look in her eyes. He used to go swimming in the mere. He was a good strong swimmer, but they think he got tangled up with a submerged tree branch. It devastated poor Benny. The family all lived with old Mrs Lightfoot, Bennys gran, in Neb Cottage. It must have been a tight squeeze, there were three kids: Benny, and his younger brother and sister, Barnabas and Deborah. But it worked all right as long as Saul was around. He was that sort of man. Charismatic, I suppose theyd say nowadays. Or what the young girls would call a hunk.