The Opal Pendant (A Little Crazy)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Out of the light breeze, Rupert, with his back to the rocks. From above, Joyce shouted," The vicars left to get help. How are you?"

He could not see Joyce. "Come and join me. Out of the wind, it's not bad. I could even become used to having wet pants."

"Glad to hear you are your usual self. The team has arrived. We'll wait for the farmer. His wagon can cope with the travelling across ploughed fields."

"I'm not going anywhere. Any idea when SOCO might arrive?"

"I understand they are on their way. Good news, the farmers arrived. Will be with you soon."

***

Joyce watched a tall, muscular man with red hair exit the grey Land Rover Defender.

The vicar joined him and pointed to Joyce. "Chief Inspector Parsons, Eric Mc Donald, the owner of Hedge Farm."

Eric grinned, "I understand your husband took the quick route to the old swimming pond, and you'd like him back."

The flicker of a smile crossed her face. "He comes in useful now and then. I'm sure you know he has company."

"The vicar told me. Are those your team?"

She nodded.

Best they jump into the horsebox. There's no way their van could negotiate the stream and fields."

"Sergeant. You and your men are travelling in style. Make yourselves comfortable in the horsebox."

"Vicar," said Joyce. "Escort Mrs Dobson back to the house. I need to ask her a few questions."

"Is that necessary? All I did was point out what I thought was a body. I had nothing to do with whatever happened."

"Vicar, please get her address and telephone number, and I'll have an officer visit her at home. She won't mind a police car parked outside her home." Without waiting for a reply, Joyce clambered into the passenger seat of the Defender.

"She'll dine on this story for the rest of her life," said Eric as he started the Defenders engine. "Hold tight to the strap above your head. Great wagons these but not exactly comfortable."

Driving across the field was not a problem. The rough and rarely used potholed track forced Eric to reduce speed. The route twisted and turned and made steering difficult. Reaching the stone bridge over the stream took them half an hour.

"Is the bridge safe," asked Joyce.

Eric shrugged. "It was last year."

Once across the bridge, the path levelled off. Their direction took them along a gravel track alongside a fast-flowing stream.

"Ten minutes," said Eric as the front wheels entered a significant water-filled dip.

To the left, a collection of green corrugated iron roofs and red brick buildings surrounded by tall grasses appeared.

"Those were the changing rooms. A tad spartan but did the job of separating the boys from the girls. If they fancied each other, the wheat fields were more private."

The Defender came to a stop at the edge of an oval-shaped pond. Rupert grimaced at the sight of a splattered-in-mud, dark green Land Rover. He was even more surprised when it stopped, and his wife exited. He knew his next move was to swim across the pool, dragging the corpse with him.

***

"How long are you going to sit there," asked Joyce.

"You must have taken the scenic route. I expected you ages ago."

"The old track had more potholes than flat bits."

"Don't suppose you brought a rope?"

"All mod cons," said Eric as he removed a coil of rope from the rear of the four-by-four. "I will tie one end to a stone and toss it across. Are you ready?"

"Get on with it," shouted Rupert.

Eric spun the weighted end through the air and let go. The rope travelled straight towards Rupert, landing inches from him. He gazed at Eric in disbelief as he grabbed the line. The cold numbed his body.

To those watching, Rupert took his time as his fingers fumbled with the line. After a few attempts, he secured it around his upper body.

Rupert found he was shivering, closed his eyes and focused on his next move. He grabbed the corpse and pulled it close. Ready, he raised his right arm. The line tightened as those on the far bank pulled two bodies across.

The water appeared colder away from the bank, but he smiled at the thought of a relaxing hot bath.

A familiar voice rang in his ears as he felt solid earth. He turned his head to the left and looked at Joyce. "Fancy meeting you here."

"It's not funny. You could have hurt yourself. How are you feeling?"

"Bloody cold."

"Good. You're still shivering. It's a good sign. We need to get you out of those clothes and into something dry. You two, grab my husband and get him into the horse box. There are a couple of horse blankets near the front. Wrap him in them and make sure he doesn't go to sleep."

Joyce walked with them as the two officers lifted Rupert and carried him into the horse box.

Rupert's fingers failed to work as he tried to assist in his undressing. In the end, it was easier to leave it to them. Once naked, they wrapped him in the heavy wool blankets.

Without warning, the trailer began to shake.

"What the hell is happening?" asked Rupert.

"It's your transport to the hospital. The Chief Inspector requested a helicopter pickup. Like it or not, sir, you will soon be in a warm bed surrounded by attractive nurses."

"How on earth did you contact a helicopter?"

"CB Radio. My farm covers hundreds of acres. I can contact my wife and let her know if I have a problem. Works a treat out here. I called the RAF, and their search and rescue helicopter crew sprang into action. To find us, they homed in on my radio transmission.

"I don't need babying."

"You tell your wife, sir. I won't."

"You can't be too careful. If necessary, I want you checked out and kept in for observation."

Rupert could see there was no point in attempting to argue.

From the trailer tailgate, a man in flying gear shouted. "Make a hole. Medic coming through."

"This is your patient," said Joyce. "Possible hypothermia."

"Sergeant Swan, and you are?"

"Chief Inspector Parsons, and this is my husband. Unfortunately, he found himself in the old swimming pond, which is rather cold."

"How long was he in the water."

"Over an hour."

"From what I can see, his skin is red. I'll check his pulse. How long have you been shivering?"

Rupert smiled. "Not sure, but my coordination is a tad suspect."

"Your pulse is weak. We'll take you to the general, and they can keep an eye on you. Ever been in a helicopter before?"

"Many times."

"Well, this time, you'll be in a stretcher. Snug as a bug. I'll get my men in here to sort you out."

Ten minutes later, Joyce watched as the helicopter lifted off. When it disappeared, she concentrated on the task at hand. How and when did Mary Wilson die?