Lair r-2 Page 5

  A few cars were parked on a muddy area on the rim of the valley, their occupants gazing out at the view through windscreens, as though to leave their metal cocoons and make contact with fresh air would shrivel their bodies. Fender drove on, looking for a sign which would tell him the location of the Conservation Centre.

  A huge public house stood on his right, a lofty and cold perch at the top of the long, grassy slope, and beyond that he saw the sign pointing towards his goal. He drove down the curved road, almost doubling back in direction, and came upon the entrance to the Centre. Passing through the narrow gate posts, he found a small, gravel car park. He sat and studied his surroundings before leaving the car.

  The white-bricked single-storey buildings were set in a square horseshoe shape around a close-cropped lawn, a ribbon of gravel cutting across the grass from the car park towards a glass-doored entrance to the building on his left. The low-ceilinged building had no windows at least, not on that side and a sign in front of him indicated it was the school section. An arrow, pointed in the same direction as the path, bore the heading: INFORMATION DESK. Directly ahead and slightly apart from the main building was a continuous row of chalet-type structures joined at right angles by a similar row leading back in his direction.

  They were of the same neat, functional design as the school and reception section and Fender guessed they were the staff's living quarters. Stephen Howard had briefed him on the Centre before Pender had left, explaining that the Warden, as the principal was ominously called, and his tutors were resident at the establishment. Trees loomed up darkly behind the Centre, dwarfing the buildings, making them seem more squat than they really were. He crossed the lawn, keeping to the gravel path, and entered the reception area.

  The rectangular hall was cluttered with single-panelled exhibition stands displaying pictures of various animals and plants, accompanied by written information on each subject. The area was empty but there was a reception window to his right. He peered into the room beyond; a woman was at one end typing busily and a man sat reading a book at a table nearest the window. The man, youngish, intense-looking, glanced up at Fender.

  "Yes, sir, can I help?" he asked.

  "My name's Fender. I've come to see Mr. Milton." Fender had learned to be discreet about his profession: people were still nervous of rat catchers

  "Oh yes. From Ratkill, aren't you?"

  Fender lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

  The man grinned as he got up from the desk and came over to the window.

  "It's all right, there's no secrets among the staff. I'll just see if he's in his office."

  The young man disappeared through a door and reappeared a few seconds later.

  'Yes, he's there. If you'd like to go through the door round to your right, I'll take you to his office."

  Fender followed the instructions and was met in the corridor beyond.

  "I'm not sure we really need you people," the young man said as he led the way. We've seen signs of vermin, but they haven't done any bad damage yet. It's just the uh, law, you know?"

  Fender nodded and went through the door which had been opened for him.

  The Warden of the Conservation Centre stood and offered his hand across the desk as Fender entered.

  "Mr. Fender? I'm Alex Milton. Didn't take Ratkill long to get someone up here, did it?"

  Fender shook the proffered hand and sat in the seat opposite.

  Thank you, Will," Milton said to the man at the door. "I'll see you about the arrangements for tonight's lecture a little later on. Would you like some coffee, Mr. Fender?"

  The rat catcher felt like something stronger after the wearing drive, but he smiled and said, "Coffee'll be fine."

  Would you mind asking Jan for me, Will?"

  "Right." Will closed the door behind him.

  The two men faced each other across the desk, Milton smiling and slouched back in his seat. He seemed to have forgotten why Fender was there.

  "Interesting place you have here," the Ratkill man said, breaking the silence.

  "Yes, it is," the Warden agreed enthusiastically.

  "Have you been here long as Warden?"

  Milton thought for a moment, his smile still beaming. "Just over two years, I think. The Centre itself the Epping Forest Conservation Centre, to give it its full title was only opened nine years ago, so it's still in its youth." He gave a small almost embarrassed laugh.

  "In fact, most of my staff are rather youthful apart from myself and my wife, of course."

  Fender nodded politely, smiling at the man's self-deprecating humour.

  He hoped the Warden would soon get to the business in hand. Tell me about your rodent problem," he prompted.

  "Oh yes. Mustn't waste your time." The Warden leaned forward, elbows on the desk, his face serious and his tones hushed. "It started a couple of days ago, actually. Nothing much, just signs, you understand."

  "What kind of signs?"

  Well..." A light tap at the door interrupted the Warden's next words.

  "Yes, come in," he called out.

  The door opened and a small, thin girl, clad in jeans and sweater, entered the room. She carried a tray bearing two coffees, milk and sugar, which she placed on the Warden's desk.

  This is Jan," said Milton and the girl pushed her gold-framed glasses back towards the bridge of her nose, giving Fender a nervous smile.

  "Jan saves our lives every day by cooking our meals and providing us with gallons of coffee," the Warden said as Fender smiled back at the young girl. "She's only filling in a year between school and agricultural college, actually, but I must say, she'd make an excellent chef. Perhaps we can persuade you to remain one, eh, Jan?"

  The girl shook her head and said in a quiet voice, "I don't think so, Mr. Milton." She left the room, keeping her face low to hide a blush.

  Fender hadn't seen a girl blush for quite some time.

  "You were saying?" he said as Milton handed him a coffee from the tray.

  "Saying?"

  "About the rodent signs."

  "Oh, yes, forgive me. Yes, the signs. Well, we keep examples of forest wildlife in pens outside the classrooms the children love to see the animals, you know. Rabbits, hares, squirrels even had a fox until recently. A couple of nights ago, the pens were broken into."

  Fender poured milk into his coffee, then looked steadily at the Warden.

  Were the animals killed?"

  "Good gracious, no! Nothing like that'

  Fender relaxed in his seat.

  "No, it was just their food that was stolen. But the animals, when we found them next day, were in a state of shock, do you see? Absolutely terrified. Hadn't even attempted to escape through the holes in the wire left by whatever broke in."

  "It could have been anything. Maybe the fox you had before returned it would if it knew it could find food here."

  "Oh, no, the fox died."

  Then another."

  "Yes, it could be possible. There are about fifty foxes that we know of still living in the forest. But we found droppings, you see. And they certainly weren't those of foxes."

  "Did you keep them? Can I see them?"

  "Of course you can. That's why you're here. I'll take you along to the laboratory in a moment."

  What shape are they?"

  "Roundish, spindle-shaped, I'd say."

  Were they in groups?"

  "Yes, yes. Small groups."

  Milton could read nothing in Fender's expression.

  "Anything else?" the rat catcher asked.

  We have an outhouse round at the back of the buildings where we keep the refuse. All the kitchen waste is put there. Yesterday morning we found the bottom of the door had been gnawed through."

  Fender sighed. "Yes, rats would do that."

  "Of course. But you must understand we are in the middle of the forest and are used to night-time marauders. The Centre was built to keep out our more persistent friends. The bottom of the outhouse door is reinforced with a metal
strip. A corner of the strip had been completely pulled away."

  Fender sipped his coffee.

  The metal was securely attached to the door, Mr. Fender. It would have taken a crowbar for a man to tear it loose."

  "I'll have a look at it. Have you laid any poisons?"

  "No, we thought that best left to you. The rule is to inform the Ministry immediately rodent signs are found. We're still not sure it's rats, of course, but we thought the two unusual events warranted investigation, don't you agree?"

  Fender nodded. He placed his coffee cup back on the Warden's desk and began to rise. "I'll look at those droppings ..."

  The loud rap at the door startled both men. It burst open without waiting for a reply from the Warden, and a young girl dressed in denims and a loose-fitting cardigan entered the room, closely followed by the man called Will. The girl looked breathless and she leaned with two hands on the Warden's desk, her long dark hair falling across her face.

  Milton was too surprised to speak.

  "I've seen them, Mr. Milton," the girl said, trying to keep her voice calm. They're down by one of the ponds."

  "What are, Jenny? What are you talking about?"

  "Jenny's seen the rats, Mr. Milton," Will said anxiously.

  Milton glanced at him, then back at the girl. "You have?"

  Yes, yes. I'm sure they were rats. But they were so big," the girl said, her face earnest.

  "Sit down, Jenny, and just tell us exactly what you saw." The Warden indicated a chair opposite Fender's and as she sat, the girl noticed the rat catcher for the first time.

  "It's rather opportune, really," Milton said. This is Mr. Fender, Jenny. He's been sent from Ratkill. I'm sure he'd very much like to hear what you have to say. Jenny Hanmer is one of our tutors."

  Fender looked at the girl and, now that he could see her face fully, realized she was very attractive, not at all 'tutorish'. She brushed her shoulder-length hair back and gave Fender a faint smile, her mind too busy with what she had just witnessed to pay him much attention.

  "Now, Jenny, tell all." Milton smiled benignly at the tutor.

  "I took my class down to the small pond the one before you get to the Wake Valley Pond. We'd only been there a few minutes when one of the boys saw something swimming across the water. I couldn't make out what they were at first, but there were three of them."

  "Not necessarily rats, then?" said the Warden.

  "We got a better look at them when they were climbing out. The boy threw something at them and they changed direction and made for the bank. We saw their whole bodies then."

  "But it is rather, er, gloomy down there, isn't it? I mean, are you sure they weren't some other animal? A water-vole would be the obvious choice."

  That was my first thought. They were too big, though."

  "Big enough to be dogs?" said Fender. Black dogs, mistakenly taken as the giant Black rat, had caused several scares over the past few years.

  "No, I'm sure they weren't," the girl said, looking directly at Fender.

  They had long pointed heads, and their ears were long too, and pink.

  Their tails ... their tails were horrible."

  "Did the children see them?"

  "Yes, and their teacher, Miss Bellingham. I didn't imagine them, Mr.

  Fender."

  "Where are the children now?" The Warden had a worried look on his face.

  "I brought them back right away. Miss Bellingham's with them in Class Two. It's all right, they're not frightened; we played it down, told them they were coypus."

  Fender grinned. "And they believed you?"

  "Most of them did it was rather shady down there. It's not so unlikely anyway. Coypus live mainly in Norfolk and Suffolk, so it's not improbable that some should find their way south. A few of the children were a bit doubtful, though."

  "I think I'll just go along and have a word with them," said Milton, rising. We don't want them spreading false rumours about the forest until we've checked this out."

  We may have to stop people coming into the forest anyway," Fender said quickly.

  "Stop them? That would be impossible, Mr. Fender. Have you any idea how wide an area the forest covers? And what about those who live here?"

  They'd have to leave."

  "Now just a moment, let's not jump the gun. Let's find out if these monsters really do exist first." Milton looked down apologetically at the girl. "Not that I doubt your word at all, Jenny. It's just that you may have been mistaken."

  "I wasn't. They were rats and they were over two feet long." The tutor's face was set firm.

  "Yes, well, that's what Mr. Fender is here to find out. I'll have to inform the Superintendent of the Forest, Mr. Fender. No doubt he will want to see you."

  "Fine. But first I'd like you to take me back to this pond, Miss Hanmer." All eyes turned towards Fender.

  "Do you think that's wise?" asked the Warden.

  These ... animals, whether they're rats or not, haven't attacked anyone yet. I don't think there's any danger in going to the spot where Miss Hanmer last saw them they'll be well away by now. We might find some evidence which would help identify their species."

  "It's up to you, Jenny," the Warden said.

  "I'll take Mr. Fender there, I know the pond," Will volunteered.

  "It's okay, Will," Jenny said. "I'll go. I can show Mr. Fender the exact place."

  "I'll go with you then," the young man offered.

  "No, you'll have to take charge of Jenny's class," said Milton. "I really don't want the children or their teacher to think there's a problem."

  "But Miss Bellingham..." Jenny began to say, before Milton interrupted.

  "I know Miss Bellingham quite well. I don't think her eyesight is all that reliable, do you?"

  Jenny was lost for words for a moment. "Now just wait a minute..."

  The Warden held up a restraining hand. "Please, Jenny, let me handle this. You go along with Mr. Fender, will you?"

  The tutor stood, glanced at Fender, and walked from the room. Milton grinned feebly and Fender followed the girl.

  She was halfway down the narrow gravel path before he caught up with her.

  "Just wait a minute, Miss Hanmer," he said, taking her arm and bringing her to a halt. He selfconsciously dropped his hand when she pointedly looked down at it. "He is right, you know. These things can snowball into panic if they aren't handled carefully."

  "But I saw them," she said resolutely.

  "No one's doubting that. But it has to be checked out before the alarm bells go off."

  She began striding down the path again and he kept pace, walking on the grass beside her.

  "Look, ever since the Outbreak people have been panicking over real or imagined rats. Usually, the ones we've found have been normal, either Black or Brown, but no giants. More often than not, they've been animals of a completely different species. Bad light, optical illusions, over-nervous people all sorts of things account for the sightings. It's become as popular as spotting UFOs."

  "I am not over-nervous. Nor do I imagine things. Nor do I believe in flying saucers."

  Then you're a better person than I am."

  "Possibly."

  He grinned at the sarcasm. "Probably," he said.

  She stopped and faced him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pender..."

  "Luke," he told her.

  "Luke?"

  "Short for Lucas."

  "Lucas?" She couldn't help smiling.

  "Not my fault. Parents. I was conceived on honeymoon in a place in lower Italy. Lucania."

  She laughed aloud.

  "I was lucky. They could have gone to Ramsgate." His smile broadened as she laughed again.

  You sound like something out of a bad western," she said.

  The way certain people regard my profession, I sometimes feel like it."