The House of a Hundred Whispers

few minutes afterwards, the dog handler called out to Sergeant Billings again, and Sergeant Billings went outside to talk to him. He came back with a serious face to say that Axel had picked up Timmy’s scent from the time when he had been knocking the heads off thistles in the kitchen garden, but nowhere else. If he had left Allhallows Hall and wandered off, he would have left a trail that Axel could follow, but there was none.
‘What if somebody picked him up and carried him away?’ said Vicky. ‘He wouldn’t have left a trail then, would he?’
Rob said, ‘He came back into the house, darling, and closed the kitchen door behind him. We heard him. He took off his jacket and hung it on the chair. How could anybody have got into the house and carried him off, without us hearing them? And surely Timmy would have shouted out.’
‘You say you heard him closing the kitchen door when he came in,’ said Sergeant Billings. ‘But did you hear him go out again?’
‘No,’ said Rob. ‘Not that we were really listening out for it. We just assumed that he’d gone into the drawing room to play one of his games on my phone.’
‘Still, it’s pretty clear that he’s not in the house, so he must be outside somewhere. There must be a reason why Axel couldn’t pick up his scent. Maybe you’re right, sir, and the rain did wash it away.’
‘So what can we do now?’ asked Vicky. ‘Can we get a search party together?’
‘Me and these officers will divide up the immediate area between us and conduct a systematic search. If that doesn’t bear fruit then, yes, I’ll call for extra officers from Crownhill and we’ll extend the search area more widely. I might well call for another GP dog, too. It’s going to get dark in a couple of hours and it looks like it’ll rain again, so we’d better get a move on.’
‘We’ll come out and search, too,’ said Rob. ‘Just tell us where you want us to look.’
They all went outside, except for Vicky, who stayed in the house in case Timmy came back. As they trudged up the driveway, Rob could hear Portia arguing with Grace, telling her that she knew how much she cared about her missing nephew, but if they stayed here much longer they would miss the last train back to London.
Grace’s reply was unusually brave. ‘What if we leave and they find him drowned in a leat or fallen down a quarry? What do you think I’m going to feel like then?’
Portia didn’t answer that, but snapped open her umbrella because the rain was starting again, big heavy droplets that pattered into the gravel like a dog trotting quickly to catch up with them.
*
They split up and searched until it grew dark and the rain became so heavy that the leats started to overflow and water ran across the fields. Rob walked along the narrow hedge-lined lane towards Horrabridge for over an hour, calling out Timmy’s name again and again.
When he reached Walkhampton church, Sergeant Billings rang him and advised him to go back to Allhallows Hall. It was pointless him continuing in total darkness. He would call Dartmoor Search and Rescue at Tavistock, a team of more than thirty volunteers with years of experience in finding people who were lost and injured on the moors. They would immediately send out a team experienced in night searching, but if they hadn’t found Timmy before it started to grow light tomorrow, they would call in more volunteers and fan out over a wide area all around Sampford Spiney.
‘Let’s hope your lad’s come to no harm and that he’s found himself somewhere to shelter.’
They all returned to the house, soaked and exhausted. Vicky had lit the range in the kitchen and left the oven doors open so that it was warm. She had also phoned Mac Vac, the local chimney sweeping service, and they had promised to come around early in the morning and clear out all of the blocked-up flues.
‘I don’t know why you bothered, quite honestly,’ said Katharine. ‘It’s not as though any of us are going to be living here.’
‘It’s still up to us to look after it, Katharine,’ Vicky told her. ‘And Rob and I are going to be staying here until we find Timmy.’
Sergeant Billings said, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, around seven. Give us a call immediately, won’t you, if the little fellow shows up.’
Once he had gone, Martin stood in front of the range warming his hands. ‘Well, we’ll have to stay here, too, at least for tonight. I’m too knackered to drive all the way home, especially in this weather. What shall we do about eating?’
‘The fridge has been cleared out,’ said Vicky. ‘But I looked and there’s still food in the freezer. I’m not at all hungry myself, but even if I was, I don’t think I’d fancy eating my late father-in-law’s steak and kidney pie.’
‘I’ll tell you what,’ said Martin. ‘I’ll call The Rock pub in Yelverton and see if they’ll do us a takeaway. Their steaks and their pies are terrific. When they’re ready I can whizz over and collect them.’
He looked up The Rock’s menu online, and they all chose what they wanted to eat. Grace asked for a chicken salad bowl but Portia was vegan, and so she opted for the butternut squash risotto. Rob went for the fisherman’s pie. Vicky insisted that she didn’t feel like anything to eat, but he knew she might be tempted to share it with him. Martin ordered the Devonshire rump steak, cooked rare. Katharine wanted nothing more than crushed avocado on toast, with a hen’s egg.
They didn’t need to order any drinks. Sixteen dusty bottles of Jail Ale were stored in the bottom of the pantry, as well as seven assorted bottles of red and white wine and a half-empty bottle of Jameson’s whiskey.
It was past eight o’clock by the time Martin