Dark Side of the Street - Jack Higgins [34]
Chavasse could have told her that the incident had taken place just after a successful payroll snatch in Essex which was known to have netted Youngblood and his associates thirty-two thousand pounds and had put two armoured car guards in hospital, one with a fractured skull, but he knew when he was wasting his time.
He grinned crookedly. "He's certainly quite a man."
She nodded. "I hope he gets away, clear out of the country. I hope you both do."
"Do you get many people through here like us?" he said.
"About half a dozen this year."
"What about George Saxton and Ben Hoffa, Harry's friends? Did you see anything of them?"
Suddenly it was as if shutters had dropped squarely into place and when she glanced at him, the eyes were blank, the face devoid of all expression. "Yes, they were here."
"For how long?"
She hesitated and then said slowly, "I don't know. I didn't see them go."
Chavasse was aware of a sudden coldness in the pit of the stomach and his throat seemed to go dry. "Was that unusual?"
"Yes--yes, it was," she said hesitatingly. "The others were here for two or three days. I always saw them leave. My step-father took them in the car."
"Let me get this straight," Chavasse said. "You met Saxton and Hoffa down there on the road at night just like us and you brought them up to the farm?"
"That's right."
"Did you ever see either of them again after that?"
"Never."
They stood staring at each other dumbly in the rain, the ceaseless sighing of the wind the only sound.
"What happened to them, Molly?" Chavasse said.
"I don't know. Before God, I don't know," she cried.
"You mean you don't want to know, don't you?"
She shuddered violently as if at some secret unpleasant thought and he gripped her arms above the elbows, gentling her like a fractious mare. "All right, Molly--there's nothing to worry about. I'll handle it."
He started to walk away, paused and turned towards her. "Are you coming down?"
"I've the sheep to see to." Her hands were shaking so hard that she had to clasp them together. "Later--I'll be along later."
He didn't bother to argue and went down the hill on the run, his face grim. The possibilities implicit in what she had said were monstrous and yet, if he was honest, some sort of suspicion had been there at the back of his mind from the moment he had met Sam Crowther and his sinister shadow. He remembered the knob on the bedroom door turning silently in the night and his flesh crawled.
He climbed the stone stile, vaulted the wall and found himself face to face with Youngblood.
"Find anything?" Chavasse said.
Youngblood shook his head. "Not even a shotgun. I know where we are though. Found an old envelope. This is Wykehead Farm, near Settle." He frowned suddenly. "You look excited. Anything happen?"
"I'm not really sure," Chavasse said. "But I've just had a chat with Molly and I've a hunch there could be something very nasty in the woodshed."
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
"No time to discuss it now. Ask her about Saxton and Hoffa yourself and see what you make of it. You get a clear view of the main road from the top. The moment you see Crowther's car, come down and warn me. You'll have plenty of time."
He went down the hill quickly leaving Youngblood standing there, a frown on his face. After a while he turned, climbed the stile and went up the hill.
Although he had developed, and especially in his Navy days a genuine love of the sea, Harry Youngblood was a city animal and he paused to survey the strange twisted landscape with distaste. There was nothing here that appealed to him. Nothing at all, and he climbed on until he reached the spine of rocks on the crest of the hill and looked down to the road below. A truck moved along it, match-box size, but there was no sign of Crowther's old black Ford.
He turned and started towards the hut and suddenly realised that the girl was standing there looking at him, a lamb cradled in her arms. She disappeared inside and when he reached the doorway, he