Cold Blood by Jane Heafield (great books to read txt) 📕

had told him that Overeem’s CaraHome had last been captured by ANPR a few miles south-east. If the camera on the roundabout hadn’t flagged it, it hadn’t been this way.

Or maybe it had travelled the service road… just not all the way.

‘Can I look out back?’ he asked, pointing to the long windows. Tony told him to go right ahead. Bennet opened a door and stepped out onto a veranda with small tables and stackable aluminium chairs. He approached a chest-high railing and stared out. The view was indeed fabulous, but his attention was caught by a metal gibbet-like scaffold off to his left. He walked over to it. It had a winch with a mass of wound cable and a safety harness dangling over the fence.

‘That’s for the Arrow Climb,’ Tony said from behind him.

The lake was some seventy metres below, its tip just a couple of metres from the bottom of the cliff. It spread out in an oval, ringed by trees. Beyond the lake in all directions: fields and urban areas. Bennet leaned over the fence to peer straight down. On the ground, the trees had been cleared in an area the size of a basketball court and a wooden platform laid. Dozens of metal rods staggered down the smooth cliff face in a line, all the way to the platform.

‘Kind of seems like cheating,’ Bennet said. ‘The marauders way back didn’t have a winch system.’

‘Wasn’t allowed to do it without. Can’t have my customers smashing to a pulp. Especially not the ones with a tab at the bar.’ Tony laughed at his own joke.

Bennet saw that the nearest ‘arrow’ was eight feet below. ‘How do you reach the top from there?’

‘We have to remove the top two and bottom two when the event’s over. Stops people sneaking here at night at trying to make the climb.’

‘Anyone ever done it? Won the test, I mean.’

‘A few. On Sunday I had to bar a guy though. Turns out he was a professional rock climber. Against the rules. Anyway, these people you’re after. What they done, robbed a bank or something?’

‘Or something.’ Bennet immediately regretted his mockery and explained: film crew, visiting Lampton to make a documentary. He didn’t mention Sally Jenkins.

‘Nah, I haven’t had anyone like that here. Sorry. Why do the police want them?’

‘Routine enquiries on another matter.’ Bennet returned his gaze to the lake. The ring of trees was perhaps fifty metres thick. By their left arc he could see Anders’ garden centre and fragments of the service road through the canopy. But he couldn’t see any roads or tracks whose entrances weren’t visible from the service road. A little way past the garden centre there was a kind of seam in the ring where trees weren’t as densely packed. Inside this line across the width of the woods, was that stone he saw?

‘What’s that?’ he asked Tony. ‘Just past the garden centre. Where the trees look thinner. Looks like remnants of a building in the woods.’

Tony didn’t look; too busy preparing a wad of phlegm that he loosed and watched plummet to the wooden platform. ‘That’s the old boathouse and slipway from the Stanton Estate. Just a shell now, and the slipway is overgrown. The owner doesn’t want to sell or restore, even though he gets visitors about the Stanton Beast.’

‘I used to visit someone over at Lampton. But I’d never heard of the Stanton Beast until today.’

‘Well, it’s all a bit silly. Thing’s supposed to be twenty feet tall, yet it lives in these woods? Couldn’t miss a dog in there, never mind some monster. It started life as a rabid horse Stanton let loose, and the rumour mill gave it horns and fangs and made it five times as big. If you go down that service road there, you’ll see holes that are supposed to be its footsteps.’

‘You’re joking. You believe that?’

Tony laughed. ‘No one sane believes it. Some fool pissed about the new supermarket tore the road up with a drill. But it’s a good line to give the tourists. Mind you, the other night I was in here after we shut up, on my own, and I swore I could hear the thing crashing about in the woods down there.’

‘What?’

Tony laughed again. ‘The boathouse is a magnet for yobbos and hikers and partying teenagers and stuff. The Stanton Beast gives this place a sort of Blair Witch feel to some Lopers and they camp out in the building, hoping to see the Beast. I can hear their whooping and shouting late at night sometimes.’

Intriguing. ‘Was this on Monday night?’

‘Nah. Last night. Noisy sods. Go see Albert at the garden centre. He’ll tell you. He’s got that CCTV with sound. He’s got loads of recordings of it. But don’t let him trick you into believing it’s the Beast. Hey, this film crew, are they doing a piece on the monster? That why they’re here?’

Bennet shook his head.

There were no roads, paths, trails or tracks big enough for a vehicle leading off the service road. Overeem had planned a visit to the Arrow, but he hadn’t followed through. His own visit had been a waste of time. He was done here.

36

Liam took the roundabout exit back onto the winding road that led to the service road, and drove to the garden centre.

Albert Anders was tending to a water feature as Bennet turned into his forecourt. Perhaps remembering his failed sale earlier, he didn’t look happy to see his visitor return. Bennet showed his warrant card.

‘Can I get a look at your CCTV?’

‘If you like. What’s it for? I didn’t see those people you asked about.’

‘You’ve got recordings of the Stanton Beast, is that right?’

‘Tony tell you that? Up at the Arrow? It’s not really the Beast. He tell you that?’

‘He did. You’ve got recordings of people, shall we say, partying at the boathouse?’

‘Yeah, but not on video. This camera here, it’s got good audio, picks up stuff all around.’

‘Do you check your