The Moor - Laurie R. King [115]
"I mentioned it was a rural area and circumspection was wise."
Circumspection in this case may have been unnecessary, for the telegram from New York merely stated:
FIRST PARTY UNKNOWN SECOND PARTY HEADMASTER RETIRED DUE TO ILL HEALTH. SCHOOL SOLD 1921 NOW FAILING.
M BRIDGES
The necessarily terse style engendered by telegraphic communication, even compounded by Holmes' caution, could not explain the dearth of information provided by this little missive. "I'd say this raises rather more questions than it answers, wouldn't you agree?"
My partner's face twisted briefly in a moue of annoyance. "My usual informant in the police department must be away. Bridges is his inferior officer, in the fullest sense of the word. Still, it would indicate that Scheiman left New York voluntarily, rather than with the hounds of the department on his heels. Interesting that he should have chosen to run a school, as his father did. In this case, the school's failure to survive his departure could be an indication of his having pillaged the coffers a bit too effectively, or merely a sign of the man's immense charisma on which the entire enterprise rode."
I did not think it necessary even to respond to this last scenario. Instead, I said, "Tell me about Pethering."
Mrs Elliott came in then with tea and a plate of toasted muffins, and when she had returned to her kitchen, Holmes told me how he had spent the last three days.
"In the end I did not leave here until nearly midday on Sunday," he began, although I knew that, from Mrs Elliott. Well after midday, in fact;Holmes had stayed with Baring-Gould all morning, had waited while the old man recited the morning services, and had in fact not left until after the noon meal. I did not tell him I knew this, and he did not explain. "I took a room at the inn in Sourton that night. I did succeed in prising a cup of tea from them before I left in the morning, but I could not wait until the kitchen was awake. I haven't had a proper meal, now that I think of it, until noon today." He paused to reach for a buttered muffin.
"As you will have seen from the map, it is a stiff climb up onto the moor, closer akin to rock climbing than walking. However, it was the way Pethering took, so I had no choice.
"I came out on Sourton Common just after dawn on Monday, a short distance above the old tramway to the peat works at the head of Rattle Brook. It did not take long to find the place where Pethering had made his first camp, almost as soon as he gained the moor—he didn't even bother to look for a sheltered place, no doubt because darkness overtook him. I set off from there in the direction of Watern Tor, almost due east and four miles by the map, but nearly twice that on foot, what with the hills and the streams and the congregation of marshes that intrude in that place.
"There was no knowing for certain Pethering's exact route, but I came across signs of his passing. For a man who reveres antiquities he was very casual about what rubbish he strewed across the countryside.
"His second night he camped near Watern Tor, and judging by the number of tins I found at his campsite, he remained in that vicinity from teatime Monday until midday Tuesday, no doubt searching for giant canine footprints in the boggy areas, where I found a number of his own boot marks. He might have remained longer but for the storm, which began to blow in at about two o'clock in the afternoon.
"He may have thought he could get off the moor before it hit; certainly he would not have wished to remain where he had settled down, which was a very exposed and uncomfortable place. He packed up his rucksack in some haste, leaving behind one tent peg and a couple of unopened tins of food, and launched due west, aiming, I believe, for the ravine of the West Okemont, which his map would have told him would be windy, but less vulnerable than where he was.
"The storm caught him just after he'd crossed the river, three hard miles short of Sourton. He found a low place in the hill leading down to the