Ponies at Owls' Wood (13 page)

‘Police at last!' said Tom, ‘you do things back to front Hannah, has anyone ever told you that?'

Hannah ignored this, but having seen Tom flat out on the grass such a short time ago, she was concerned for him.

‘Are you all right?' she asked, ‘and if so, will you help me let down the ramp so we can get the ponies out?'

Together, they opened up the back of the lorry and stood back as the ponies clattered out in a rush. They galloped off to the corner furthest away from all the noise and people.

By now, the police cars had parked and three policemen and a policewoman jumped out. Their sirens were turned off but the blue lights kept flashing. Dodging through the space between the gate and the horsebox, two of them gave chase at once after Miss Lycra, who appeared to be quietly making her way towards the far end of the field.

‘Oh no you don't,' Hannah heard one of the constables say.

Miss Lycra turned to him calmly and could be seen to smile as the blue lights lit up her face in the darkness.

‘Oh I'm so glad you've come Officers,' she said. ‘I've been helping these brave children rescue some stolen ponies. It's appalling what some people will do, poor creatures. I run a rescue centre you know, and we've been concerned about pony thefts for some time.'

Hannah stared at her in amazement. The nerve of the woman! But the tallest of the officers smiled back.

‘That's very interesting, madam, and we're glad you're pleased to see us, because we're pleased to see you. So pleased in fact, that I'm going to pop these handcuffs on you, so you can be as close as possible to my colleague here when he puts you in his car.'

Miss Lycra let out a loud shriek and pointed to Hannah: ‘It's all her fault,' she shouted, ‘the little cow! And if you think you're going to put those things on me,' she pointed to the handcuffs, ‘you can think again.' In a split second, she turned back, ducked and dodged past the lorry, and started to run up the lane in the direction of the Steeple Chase. Two policemen set off after her, and Hannah and Tom listened as she fought and screamed in protest as they caught her.

‘Good,' remarked Hannah.

In the meantime, the policewoman had opened the driver's seat of the horsebox and slipped a set of handcuffs onto Mr Dirty White Scarf. He appeared stunned by what was happening and had remained in his seat, his head resting on the steering wheel, apparently in despair. He submitted to the handcuffs without protest and was led away to join the screaming Miss Lycra.

‘Shut up!' they heard him say, as the car door was closed on the pair of them, ‘this is all your fault.'

Hannah watched anxiously as the policewoman then expertly manoeuvred the horse box out of the gateway, parked it on the verge, and padlocked the gate.

Hannah looked round for Jess, and realised with a shock that she was nowhere to be seen. And nor was Pete. They had all been so distracted by the arrest of the two thieves that they'd forgotten Pete, the worst of the villains. Hannah had just assumed that Jess was still in the field.

‘How could I have left her on her own,' she thought out loud, ‘when I know what Pete's like?'

Tom overheard her. ‘It's not your fault,' he said at once, ‘we'll find her. She can't have been gone long.'

Hannah rushed to her father who, together with Charley, was deep in conversation with the tall policeman. One of the cars had gone, taking Miss Lycra and her partner away. There was now only the tall policeman, who told them his name was PC Stanley, and the policewoman, who told them to call her Lucy, although PC Stanley said she was a senior detective. Lucy seemed genuinely concerned when Hannah broke into their conversation.

‘Quick! My friend Jess has gone, and so has Pete. He's the really terrible person, the one who's been hiding the ponies and selling them for meat, and he'll probably murder Jess when he gets her away from here. She's been terrified to call the police and now he'll think it was her that called you. We have to go after them!'

‘Who's Jess?' asked her dad, ‘and for that matter, who's Pete? What
have
you been doing Hannah? I don't like the sound of this at all.'

‘I'll explain later,' gasped Hannah, breathless now with worry about her friend.

‘Charley knows all about it, but we have to go
now
!'

Lucy was quick to understand. ‘Tell us where to go,' she said.

PC Stanley turned to Hannah's father: ‘We'll deal with this now Sir. Why don't you take these young people home and get some rest. We'll arrange for the horsebox to be collected and you can be sure the horses will be safe now.' But Hannah couldn't be sure of any such thing.

Charley spoke up for the first time, ‘I think they may have my stolen pony up at High Farm. A lorry load were taken up there tonight, and I want to go and see.'

‘And I couldn't possibly rest!' said Hannah. ‘I need to know that my friend is OK.' She turned to her father. ‘You'll take us up to High Farm, won't you Dad?'

Her father looked as if he'd much rather not, but agreed reluctantly. Hannah, Charley and Tom jumped into the back of his car and they set off behind the lights and sirens. Hannah wished the police wouldn't announce their arrival so loudly. Pete would hear them coming and would probably be miles away by the time they arrived at the farm.

She needn't have worried. When they got there, High Farm was ablaze with lights. The front door of the farmhouse was wide open. A yell from upstairs, followed by a crash, had PC Stanley taking the stairs two at a time. Lucy called to Hannah's father to keep everyone out of the way as she followed PC Stanley into the farmhouse.

‘Hannah!' her dad shouted as, ignoring Lucy's orders, Hannah jumped out of the back of his car and slipped through the front door and up the stairs. She could hear Pete in the bedroom, apparently hurling bits of furniture onto the floor, while the sound of Auntie Cyn crying seemed almost as loud.

‘Just give me my passport!' he kept shouting at her. My passport Cyn! Where the hell have you put it?'

PC Stanley's voice was loud too, but very calm, ‘I'm giving you due warning Sir, and I advise you to come quietly.'

Hannah was halfway up the stairs when a dark figure shot out of the bedroom and down the stairs towards her. She gasped and stood back to let him through, thinking too late about sticking her foot out to trip Pete. Instead, she found herself propelled down the stairs with him, and out into the yard. He had her round the neck with one strong right arm, while the other yanked her left hand up behind her back. She was captured and couldn't move. As he turned to face the two police officers following, she saw that there was a long knife glinting against her chest.

‘Hannah!' Jess's voice called out from an upstairs window. ‘Do whatever he says. We're coming!'

Hannah saw PC Stanley reach for his radio. At the same time, he spoke to Pete.

‘Let the girl go. You're making it much worse for yourself and if you hurt her you can look forward to a very long spell in jail. Let her go and then we can talk about it. So far you're only in for a bit of horse thieving.'

‘I'll do no such thing,' Pete growled. ‘She's worth going inside for, being as it's all her fault. I had a perfectly good business before she came along, leading our Jess on. Now, you tell Cynthia to bring out my passport, and give me ten minutes to get away. I'll take this lass with me, just in case.'

Hannah saw that Jess and Cyn had come outside too, and that her father, Charley and Tom had left the car and were advancing on Pete. Pete began to back away, taking her with him. She was being held so close to his chest that she could feel his heart beating fast against her back. Maybe he was more scared than he was letting on, she thought.

‘Get my passport woman!' Pete shouted at Cyn. ‘You must know where it is?'

But Cyn replied tearfully, ‘I'm sorry Pete, I can't. Please let the girl go. They'll lock you up for years and then what will I do?' She carried on weeping, and looked round at the crowd in the yard. ‘It's not his fault,' she sobbed, ‘he's had a hard life and he's not all bad!'

‘Excuse me
madam,'
said Hannah's dad, his voice trembling with rage, ‘but your ‘‘not all bad'' man happens to be holding my daughter at knife point, so forgive me if I disagree.' He made a movement towards Pete, but DC Lucy grabbed hold of his arm.

‘That's really not wise Sir,' she said, ‘leave it to us. Try not to worry and we'll soon get your daughter to safety.'

Hannah could see the anxiety in her father's face. She tried to indicate to him that she was all right, but was very aware of how close to her throat the blade of Pete's knife was, and she hardly dared move in case it cut her. Holding her head as high and still as possible, she noticed Jess slip away from the others and run silently in the direction of Grace's caravan.

At the same time, Pete started to drag her across the yard towards the gate, where ponies could be heard snorting and galloping around the fence line. Pete used his right hand, the knife still grasped tightly, to push the catch and then he kicked the gate back so that there was nothing to keep the ponies in. As he'd clearly hoped, they made a break for it and galloped off into the darkness, towards Owls' Wood.

‘There! That's better,' he said through gritted teeth. ‘You want ponies? You go and look for them. Now, for the dogs.'

He turned, propelling Hannah in front of him, his vice-like grip bruising her chest and the knife threatening her throat again should her head change position. Hannah felt helpless in the face of his superior strength, and wondered again how someone so stringy and slight could be so strong.

She tried to make out what was happening around her. Like an audience moving as one to keep up with actors on a stage, the two police officers, her dad, Charley and Tom were keeping pace with Pete's position, facing him squarely but always several metres away. Her neck stiff, Hannah swivelled her eyes as far to the left as she could, catching sight of Jess once more, this time lending an arm to her grandmother Grace as that fat old lady hobbled down the steps of her caravan and the two of them disappeared behind the back of the stable block.

‘And now for the dogs,' Pete repeated. ‘I'll just let them out to keep you lot busy for a little while, and I'll be off, passport or not. You give me ten minutes to get away, and I'll not harm this girl. Follow me, and I promise I'll hurt her.'

Lucy took a step forwards.

‘Keep back the lot of you! Or this girl gets it!'

Nobody moved. As Cyn's weeping got louder, PC Stanley turned away to talk urgently into his radio again.

Pete and Hannah now stood in front of the outbuilding where the dogs were howling and barking, hurling themselves against the rough wooden door as if they would break it down any moment. Hannah knew they would attack just as soon as they were let loose, and she worried about her father and friends who would be helpless against such strong angry animals. Then she thought about herself, taken prisoner in Pete's van, alone with him in the dark countryside. Her legs turned to jelly and she started to slide downwards. Pete gripped her even harder to stop her falling to the ground. He laughed.

‘The dogs are called Fang and Growler,' he told everyone, ‘introduce yourselves to them, why don't you?'

He turned round and reached up to pull back the long bolt that was holding the shed door shut. Hannah's dad, Charley and Tom, and Lucy and PC Stanley all stepped back. But as Pete moved to push the door open to let the dogs free, an apparition in a huge flowery dressing gown appeared, as if from nowhere, and stopped directly behind him. One plump arm was lifted high in the air and then, as quick as a flash, it struck downwards, bashing something hard against Pete's head. There was a thud, a crash and then silence as Pete collapsed onto the ground. Hannah leapt free and then she too, fell in a heap beside him.

‘There,' said the apparition in a tone of satisfaction. Grace, dressed in voluminous fluffy nightwear reaching almost to the ground, was holding what appeared to be a lamb's leg bone in her right hand. She looked down at Pete, out cold next to her pink-slippered feet.

‘I saw that done years ago in a film,' she said calmly, ‘only on that occasion the police ate the lamb after the murder had been done, and never found either the weapon or the murderer. This time you've all seen me do it, though I don't expect I've murdered him, more's the pity. But I owed my daughter's boyfriend a good bang on the head, and I think you'll agree my timing's good. The lamb bone just happened to present itself as I was looking for something to bash him with. Now
I'll
let these poor dogs out.'

The speechless onlookers took another step back, but this time Grace laughed.

‘Oh don't worry,' she said, ‘they're harmless. They're called Maisie and Bess and they'll be pleased to meet you. They bark a lot but I promise they won't hurt you.'