Ribblestrop Forever! (25 page)

The children gazed out over the moor, determined not to look behind them. The laughter came again, and this time it was the laughter of two, or maybe three – it was breathless, as if a
game were in progress. Sanchez wanted so badly to turn round, but something told him not to, and he was aware that everyone was still – that if a single head turned, the laughter would
vanish. And there were footfalls now, soft on the rock. There was a squeal and a gasp, and something metal fell upon stone. There was a peal of laughter that blazed louder than any other and then
there was the sound of a flute – one note, long, sustained, with the laughter swirling around it. Then the moon must have tilted and the earth must have leant towards it, for the light
altered yet again. As the children laughed and laughed, and as the feet jumped and ran, a trail of white stones became visible all across the moor. It was as if stars had fallen – they were
that bright and clear. There was a trail and it led in a great curve over a hill, into darkness, then appeared again, narrowing to nothing. It was a path, unmissable, heading north.

‘Don’t go,’ said Tomaz. ‘Please don’t leave us.’

Imagio took his hand. Sanjay took his other hand and Miles found Millie’s wrist. In a moment everyone was connected and everyone felt it at the same time – there was a pulse and,
when they looked down, they saw that the ground was covered in feathers.

The flare path had disappeared.

‘Why feathers?’ whispered Sam. ‘What’s special about feathers?’

‘Oh God, look!’ said Vicky.

Everyone turned now and saw that she was pointing. There was something on the ground, where the ghosts had played. They remembered the metal sound – the clink on the rock – and
whatever had fallen was still there. Vicky knelt beside it and the children pressed around her.

‘Look . . .’

‘What is it, miss?’ asked Caspar.

‘I’ve seen it before,’ said Israel. ‘There’s some in the glass case, downstairs in the museum. You said they were playing cards.’

‘But it’s new,’ said Vicky. Her hands trembled and for a moment she didn’t dare touch it.

Doctor Ellie had a torch out and the metal disc shimmered in the beam, silver, bronze and copper. There was a bird etched skillfully, with a bright eye and cruel beak.

Vicky picked it up and instantly it corroded almost to nothing – it was a leaf, suddenly, of oxidised, corrupted matter that might have come from a bonfire.

She fell to her knees. ‘Oh no . . .’

‘That wasn’t a playing card,’ said Podma.

‘Is that what they were playing with?’ said Oli. ‘They were throwing it. Is it a weapon?’

‘It’s just a throwing game,’ said Kenji. ‘Frisbee. But they were catching it on sticks.’

‘How do you know that?’ said Miles.

‘I could hear. That’s what the knocking sound was. They were just playing a game, throw and catch. Throw and catch. We do the same, Miles. They’re us.’

‘I think we have to go, don’t we?’ said Doctor Ellie. ‘If the flare paths are that clear, then this is the right time of the year. When’s the longest day? Next
week? Next Monday?’

Vicky said, ‘Did you see how beautiful it was?’ Millie put an arm round her shoulders, for she was distraught. ‘Before I touched it. Did you see how gorgeous it was? They made
that.’

‘What’s their name again? The name of the tribe?’ asked Millie.

‘Caillitri,’ said Vicky, softly. ‘It means, “Those who pass”. “Those who are leaving”.’

‘We can follow them now,’ said Asilah. ‘We can leave tomorrow – that’s ahead of schedule, but that won’t matter. We’re going to be slow, so the sooner
the better. This Pioneers’ Award thing, is it important?’

‘It is to Captain Routon,’ said Podma.

‘The flare paths are more important,’ said Sam, ‘but we can do both. We can do the challenge
and
look after Eleudin.’

‘We’ve got to be clear, though,’ said Miles. ‘If it comes to making a decision, the priority is finding his home. Are we agreed on that?’

The children nodded.

‘Did anyone see them?’ said Tomaz. ‘The ghosts, I mean. Did anyone turn and look?’

‘I tried,’ said Anjoli, after a silence. ‘I couldn’t move, though.’

‘Nor could I,’ said Millie.

Miles stood up. ‘Let’s get back to the camp,’ he said. ‘If we’re leaving at dawn, we ought to get some sleep.’

What had the police actually been doing all this time and why had they been waiting?

The answer was simple: they’d been sorting out the paperwork.

Officers and clerks had been organising file after file into binders and ledgers. Every document had to be indexed and copied, checked and re-filed. There were eye-witness statements, reports,
photographs and recommendations. There were inventories and estimates, plus a range of odd little jottings collected by ex-Inspector Cuthbertson over the months when he’d been in charge.
There were accident reports, expert analyses and boxfuls of drawings. There were physical samples, such as the gobstopper that had been retrieved from the windpipe of Timmy Fox, and the ruined
trousers of a police officer who’d fallen into the lake. Of course, the evidence and documentation also went way back to the autumn and spring terms, when the children had accidently brought
the whole of the south west’s train service to a halt and set fire to a Travellers’ Sleepeasy. There was a smashed-up burger van to be considered and one whole filing cabinet was
dedicated to traffic violations. There were copies of licences that had never been applied for and warning letters that had never been acknowledged. An insurance consultant in Exeter had drawn up a
three-hundred page document on the policies the headmaster should have had, but hadn’t got, and there was a section at the end that estimated the amount of money he could be sued for by the
people who weren’t properly protected from the accidents they might have had. A policewoman in Taunton had interviewed Lady Vyner over the phone and spent the following week listing the
hazards to which the Ribblestrop children had been exposed. They ranged from unprotected eye-level coat pegs to wild cats, lethal reptiles and loaded guns. The Ribblestrop children had been exposed
to so many risks it was a wonder any of them were still breathing.

The prosecution team was at last ready for a first hearing, and it was judged essential that the teachers being investigated should appear in person. Unfortunately, there had been no word from
the headmaster, as even the hand-delivered letters had gone unanswered. When the final deadline passed, the Chief Constable took out his special pen and signed four arrest warrants. Norcross-Webb,
Worthington, Routon and Doonan; the four names were inked onto dotted lines and the papers were stamped and sealed. They were scanned into a whole network of computer systems and the arrest
appraisal team met to confirm date, time and strategy. A police van was sent to Ribblestrop the following morning, along with two cars from Exeter HQ. Dog handlers were brought up from Bristol, and
child-protection officers were flown in from London. Lady Vyner was consulted and it was agreed that the Ribblestrop children would be taken into temporary care. This would involve the immigration
service too, so they scrambled a specialist lawyer ‘to observe’, while places were found in secure units round the country. It was known that some of the children were under ten years
old, so there was a slight delay while the appropriate soft toys were located.

By mid-morning, however, things were ready. The police station car park had overflowed along Ribblestrop High Street. Apart from the prison truck, cars and dog vans, there was a fleet of
minibuses, a firearms unit and the satellite control vehicle.

‘Gently does it,’ said the officer in charge. ‘The last thing we want is to alarm anybody.’

‘We’ve had the weapons report, sir,’ said a supporting officer. ‘Sixty-two per cent risk, so that’s alert level amber.’

‘There were gunshots last term,’ said a firearms officer. ‘So we’ll be covering your backs. I don’t expect resistance—’

‘What if the kids just run for it? Any air cover?’

‘We’ve a chopper standing by,’ said a reconnaissance expert. ‘The armed officers will be flanking you; the wooded area’s the hot spot.’

‘Right,’ said the chief constable. ‘Deidre? Do you want to say anything?’

‘I do, Brian. Thank you.’

‘Do you all know Inspector Moorhouse? She’s our child-liaison officer.’

Deidre smiled briefly and put on a pair of large glasses.

‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I just want to remind everyone that in an operation like this, the children come first. What we want is to avoid anything traumatic for them –
it’s their interests we have to keep uppermost in our minds. Now Lady Vyner’s agreed to come with us, as her own grandson’s involved. There’s quite a lot of little ones, of
course, and I think most of them will be pretty desperate by now. We’ve got hot drinks, we’ve got sweets and toys. We’re going to be nice and reasonable, and I really don’t
foresee any problems if we all stay calm. I think the grown-ups will see sense.’

Somebody laughed.

‘I know that sounds strange,’ said Deidre, ‘after what we’ve been reading, but when they see we mean business, I agree with Brian. I think they’ll come
quietly.’

Brian turned to a flip chart. ‘Two squads,’ he said. ‘There’s a back way, off a kind of cart-track here. I’ll take four in that direction. Deidre will lead the
advance party in through the front door, as it were – she’ll make first contact. That’s a narrow path through the woods, and I think three’s enough for that. We don’t
want to overwhelm them.’

‘No, we don’t want to panic them,’ said Deidre. ‘We arrive nice and slow – a walk in the woods. We show the ID, take the teachers aside, and it’ll be over in
a minute.’

‘I’ll lead them out to the lock-up,’ said Brian. ‘No cuffs. No physical contact, not where the kids can see. We cuff them in the truck, not outside.’

‘I’ll stay with the kiddies,’ said Deidre. ‘We’ll get them nice and settled, try and get a sing-song going . . . and then bring the buses in.’

‘Any questions?’

There were none. Fifty doors slammed and the vehicles moved off in a long, slow convoy. The car at the front put its blue flashing lights on, and Lady Vyner sat in the front seat, trembling with
excitement. The lights flashed and flickered all the way to the school. Minutes later, the doors were opening again, and a first aid tent was pitched. The various units took up their stations and
the two arrest squads moved into the trees.

The dogs whined and barked, and the back-up officers settled down to wait.

What Deidre reported afterwards was the ‘uncanny silence’.

She knew she was close, because she could smell a bonfire. She was also aware that the track she was on had been used by many feet. She stopped and radioed to the second squad.

‘Are you close, Brian? Over.’

‘Close enough. There are a lot of cart-tracks, pretty fresh. Hooves, as well. The ground’s quite churned up around here – looks like horses. Can’t hear anything.
Over.’

‘I can’t either. They might be having a nap, I suppose.’

‘I’ll ask Lady Vyner – hang on a minute. What do you think, ma’am? Have they flown the nest?’

Deidre heard Lady Vyner say something obscene.

‘We should check the museum, Brian – they were there yesterday.’

‘Right.’

‘Very, very quiet.’

‘Too quiet, Deidre. I’ll press on. Over and out.’

Deidre clicked her radio off and moved forward.

The officer behind her whispered, ‘Wait! What’s that there, guv’nor?’ He pointed into the bushes.

It was a black-and-gold tie, looped round an eye-level twig a few metres ahead, and it did its job just as the children had intended. Eric had fixed it in place, under Oli’s direction, and
it was a very simple distraction tactic. It was designed to ensure that anyone moving forward on this particular section of the path would keep their eyes up, rather than down. The tripwire –
which was spread at ankle height – would not be noticed.

Deidre didn’t notice it and, as she went to retrieve the tie, she kicked straight through it. The wire released a powerful sapling that had been bent almost flat. As it sprang to its full
height, it yanked the pins on several machines and the officers were suddenly assaulted from the right, from the left, and from the rear. From the rear came a volley of lethally sharp arrows. Six
bows had been positioned and two sent their missiles way too high – but the swish as they passed overhead was terrifying. One arrow went straight past the nose of a policeman and embedded
itself in a tree. Two more swerved wide, but the last one caught Deidre full in the buttock. She slammed her hand to the wound and went down on one knee. The movement probably saved her life,
because the second trap was a rock tied to an enormous branch, which swung across the path at head height and would have knocked her senseless. The branch crashed into the undergrowth and released
a second sapling. This one was more ingenious than the first and had been Anjoli’s idea based upon an African tale he’d read in Doctor Ellie’s library van. The little tree swished
upright and smacked a spike, hard, into a carefully chosen oak. The spike drove deep into a hollow part, and in that hollow was a large, thriving wasps’ nest. The wasps were jerked from their
midday snooze and, assuming they were under attack, rose as one. They didn’t notice the sapling or the vine that had held it. They noticed only the five panicking police officers – and
they dive-bombed together. The officers covered their faces and howled as their hands were stung. The cleverer wasps went for ankles and bald patches. Several found the unprotected flesh above
shirt collars. In a moment, the officers were running, and they ran straight into the final trap – which was simply a pit, covered by brush. They found the ground gave way beneath them, and
they ended up winded and helpless in wet mud. A part of the nearby spring had been diverted to keep the mud thick, and it was impossible to struggle out of it for the walls were sheer. Miles had
wanted to put sharpened sticks at the bottom, but had been overruled. The officers clambered to their feet and were helpless. The wasps re-grouped for another attack and those waiting on the drive
heard the screams on their radios. Back-up moved in and the chopper was soon overhead. The dogs were unleashed and raced through the woods. Armed officers soon surrounded the camp – but
within a few minutes it was clear that the children and their teachers had long gone.