Page 120 of Hidden Scars

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He turned right out of the street and then took another right off the main road. They passed a few stone-built cottages before the road turned into single track.

Bryant pulled into the car park.

There were two cars parked, and Kim could see immediately that a blue Toyota was parked close to a narrow gap in the hedge where you could access the site without going through the main entrance and ticket point.

Bryant nodded towards the opening. ‘Shall we just…?’

Kim shook her head. ‘Go into the shop. If anyone has been through, I want a description in case they get away.’

‘On it, guv,’ he said, heading towards the building.

She took a moment to appraise the aerial view of the site on a directional board that had a green dot saying ‘you are here’. Much as she wanted to dart through the hole in the hedge and sprint down to the ruins, she needed to get a rough lay of the land.

She glanced over the narrative which told her Wenlock Priory was a ruined twelfth-century monastery on the site of an earlier seventh-century monastery. Wenlock Abbey was a privately owned house, but the rest of the priory was open to the public.

From the enlarged photo on the board she could see that the whole site was a maze of ruins formed in a cruciform shape, with the priory church, sacristy and lady chapel at the far north of the site. Attached to that was the chapel house which then led on to the farmery hall and farmery chapel and the dorter range. To the right was the south-east range, and to the west was the cloister garth and frater. The whole site was peppered with ornately sculptured topiary.

Bryant was right. It was a sizeable area to search on foot when you were in a hurry and darkness was threatening to fall.

So where the hell was she supposed to start?

SEVENTY-FOUR

The bell sounded above Bryant’s head as he opened the door into the visitor’s centre.

He walked amongst tables filled with local history books and key rings to a middle-aged woman frowning at him from behind the reception desk. The place hadn’t changed a bit since he and Jenny had brought Laura when she was ten years old. Unfortunately, it had been a very hot day, she’d seen the sign for ice cream on the way in and couldn’t focus on anything to do with the ruins. A quick walk around and within fifteen minutes they’d been back in the car with dripping 99ers.

‘I’m sorry, sir, we’re closed,’ the woman said, tapping the opening times board in front of her. ‘Last admission is half an hour before—’

‘Sorry to interrupt, Brenda,’ he said, reading her name tag. ‘I don’t want to access the site but I need to know who has been through in the last hour or so.’ He showed his ID to qualify why he was asking.

‘Err…there was a young couple with a toddler but they left a few minutes ago. Child was fussing something awful cos they hadn’t really got her wrapped up enough, and if you want the truth she was a bit big for that buggy but—’

‘Anyone else?’ Bryant pushed.

‘Just one young lady who went through not more than ten minutes ago.’

Bryant’s stomach turned. Looked like Penn might have called it right. ‘Black hair, up here?’ he asked, putting his hand an inch above his forehead.

Brenda nodded. ‘That’s the one. About five foot five,’ she confirmed.

‘You’re positive she was alone and no one has been through since?’ he asked, looking around the shop.

‘Definitely on her own.’

He nodded towards the camera in the corner. ‘Can I view the system?’

‘Of course, but I haven’t moved from this till for the last hour and that’s the only camera we’ve got. Ain’t nobody gonna try and pinch the ruins,’ she said and waited for an appreciation of her little joke.

Bryant didn’t laugh. Yes, he could understand that the focus was probably on the till but that wasn’t helping him right now. Whoever Stephanie was meeting had accessed the site without paying and didn’t want to be seen.

‘Nothing outside?’ he asked, clutching at straws.

She shook her head.

‘You know you’ve got a gap in the hedge which allows anyone direct access to the ruins from the car park?’ he asked.

‘I’ve also got one groundskeeper instead of three who says he’ll get to it when he has the time. Look, if someone is that desperate to view the ruins, I’m sure English Heritage can wear the—’


Tags: Angela Marsons Suspense