Page 208
Chapter 124
‘Ithought you lived in a tiny shepherd’s croft?’ Doyle yawned. ‘This is a farm, Poe.’
‘This isn’t where I live. We’re here to pick up my secret weapon.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s time you met Edgar. He’s been mixing it up with my neighbour’s sheep for a fortnight, so the smell alone will be enough to deter Beck. But if that’s not enough, he’s such a nosey bastard, the moment someone gets within a mile of Herdwick Croft he barks his head off.’
It was four in the morning and they had driven all night, stopping only for coffee. Poe was dog-tired but he knew he wouldn’t sleep any time soon. He was already jittery from the caffeine and was now second-guessing his decision to take Doyle away from the protective shield of the Metropolitan Police.
Herdwick Croft was truly isolated. Surrounded by the rolling Shap Fell, it was like an island. During the day, anyone approaching could be seen for miles and at night it was so quiet Edgar heard everything. But Poe was still only one man, and realistically, how long could they stay there? If Beck went to ground, decided to wait out the rush of public exposure, they could be in hiding indefinitely. Poe knew Doyle well enough to know she wouldn’t accept that.
He was still mulling it over when the farmhouse door opened and light spilled across the yard. Victoria Hume’s silhouette was framed in the doorway. She was holding two mugs. Before she could gesture them inside, a ball of liver and white fur rushed past her. Edgar was so excited he forgot to breathe in – he simply let out one continuous high-pitched shriek of joy. He almost knocked Poe off his feet as he leaped up to his waist. Poe knelt down and let the spaniel slobber allover his face. Edgar then proceeded to sprint round him in a circle, barking wildly, his tail wagging like a twanged ruler.
‘That’s quite a greeting, Poe,’ Doyle said. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’
‘Of course. Edgar, this is Estelle – she’s coming to live with us for a few days.’
The spaniel approached Doyle’s outstretched hand cautiously. After a few sniffs he gently licked it. He then span round in a circle again.
‘I think he likes you,’ Poe said.
They drank tea in Victoria’s kitchen while they discussed the logistics of turning Herdwick Croft into a Frederick Beck-proof house. Victoria agreed to bring them provisions every week – she had already topped up the generator and stocked the fridge. She also promised to move as many sheep as she could to his part of the fell. Edgar was a good warning dog, but having to navigate his way through a thousand Herdwick sheep might be enough to make Beck think again if he came for Doyle at night.
‘I can lend you a shotgun, if you want?’ Victoria offered.
‘Thanks, but no,’ Poe said. ‘I don’t have a licence and the last thing I need is Estelle being left on her own because I’ve been arrested.’
‘Fair enough,’ she replied. ‘But I’ll make sure I always have one with me when I’m out and about. If he tries anything up here I’ll blow his bloody head off.’
He didn’t want to leave his car at the nearby Shap Wells Hotel, in case Beck tampered with it, so Victoria agreed to drive them to his quad bike. He left his BMW at her farm.
Poe sped off over Shap Fell, Doyle sitting behind him, her arms wrapped around his chest. Edgar ran beside them. Two bumpy miles later he pulled up outside his home.
‘Welcome to Herdwick Croft,’ he said. ‘It’s not much, but I like it.’
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