With a big thanks to abbeyjan for her job as beta and location scout and for encouraging me to write this story!

Bodie yawned hugely, then pointed to the clock on the dashboard which showed it was a quarter to seven and said to Doyle, who was steering the Capri to CI5 HQ: "Tell me again why the old man wants to see us in the middle of the night. I mean, we're supposed to relieve Anson and McCabe at nine and we wouldn't have forgotten it, so there was no need for the early morning wake-up-call. I need enough beauty sleep to keep up my smashing appearance." The aggrieved expression on Bodie's face seemed to be out of place on that bright and sunny summer morning. Doyle gave him a quick chiding look and said: "Cowley wants to brief us about some urgent assignment before his meeting with the Minister." Having already been for his daily jogging stint, Doyle had an air of alertness which Bodie found almost unbearable. Rolling his eyes, he said: "I wish he was that quick off the mark when it comes to giving us a rise or signing our expense chits."

Doyle nodded his agreement and pulled the Capri into the CI5 car park.

You couldn't have told how early in the morning it was by Major Cowley's appearance. He was immaculately clad and busy studying some papers intently, making notes for his appointment with the Minister later in the morning to discuss the funding for CI5 when his two top operatives entered the office. He took in Bodie's slightly dishevelled and Doyle's perky appearance and said: "Good morning, gentlemen. Sit down!" Not being the sort of man who liked wasting time, the Controller got straight down to business as soon as his agents were seated and told them: "The governor of Dartmoor prison called me yesterday evening. Dr. Mitchell changed his mind about turning Queen's evidence in the upcoming trial against Mr. Lombardi. The governor said that Dr. Mitchell now wants to do it!"

Bodie and Doyle exchanged an astonished look and Bodie exclaimed: "He hasn't been very cooperative so far, so why this sudden change of heart?"

Major Cowley removed his glasses and put them onto the desk before replying: "His lawyer plans to request a retrial and thinks that any help Dr. Mitchell offers during the Lombardi trial might take some years off his custodial sentence."

Bodie gave an angry snort and said: "Ah, looks like the six months he's spent in Dartmoor failed to whet his appetite for the rest of his twelve years stretch. Well, he should have thought about this before getting involved with the mob and trying to kidnap and kill his son. It's a bit late for making amends."

The Controller of CI5 looked thoughtful and said: "Talking about Alan, Dr. Mitchell also says he wants to see the lad and apologise to him as a start for maybe restoring some kind of a father-son-relationship. By turning Queen's evidence, he wants to prove that he's a changed man now who regrets his crimes of the past."

The expression on Bodie's face was sceptical when he said: "That may very well be, but I have severe doubts about that. I mean,..."

Doyle cut him off by saying: "I'm not so sure that this is a scam. Six months brooding in Dartmoor, re-evaluating one's life can turn anybody into a changed man. It's never too late to make amends and Dr. Mitchell deserves his second chance just like everybody else."

Bodie turned to face his partner and gave an incredulous snort before saying: "I think you're going soft, mate. That man tried to kill his son...and you! I think this changed man talk isn't worth a tinker's curse."

Doyle almost jumped up from his chair and exclaimed hotly: "I'm not going soft, Bodie! I haven't forgotten that Dr. Mitchell tried to kill me and that his companion grazed my arm. Yet I prefer to give him the benefit of the doubt."

Bodie shook his head in disbelief and was about to add another snide remark about his partner's state of mind when Doyle said: "No need to insult me further, Bodie. I agree with you that we ought to be a bit suspicious about him and play it safe. I think Dr. Mitchell should not be allowed to meet his son. I doubt Alan would want to see him anyway, he's still recovering from the trauma he's been through and shouldn't be put through anything unsettling until we know more about that matter. Which brings me to the question of the urgent assignment you want to talk about, Sir." Doyle gave his boss an inquiring look.

Major Cowley nodded approvingly and said: "Good to see you've stopped the argument and decided to concentrate on the job at hand...which is escorting Dr. Mitchell from Dartmoor Prison to Feltham. It will be a very low key operation, involving just the two of you. I can't afford big teams wrecking my budget and the fewer people involved and in the know, the better. The procedure, including the date and time you choose, is entirely up to you, but Dr. Mitchell should be in Feltham by next Friday, so that the Crown Prosecutor has enough time with him to be properly prepared for the Lombardi trial. Dr. Mitchell is in solitary confinement right now and even his lawyer won't be informed about the date of the transfer. He put up a bit of a fight when he heard this, screaming something about prisoners' rights and the like, but shut up quickly when told that the whole matter would come to an end if he didn't play ball."

Bodie's face was set in a grim expression when he said: "Just for the record, I'm not liking this at all. What if the whole thing is just a cunning plan of the mob to spring Dr. Mitchell? " He turned to Doyle and asked: "What do you think?"

Doyle looked pensive and replied: "You may be right, but then again, you may be wrong. I don't want to deprive a man of his second chance and if he's really serious, there might be a way he could be a father for Alan. As for the possibility that this a plan to spring Dr. Mitchell, well, we'll just have to be careful.

Bodie muttered: "We'll have to be damned careful, mate."

Rising up from his chair, Major Cowley said: "You'll play it by the book, both of you. After your stake-out duties end tonight, you're off all other assignments to plan and carry out this transfer. Inform me immediately when you're ready to move." He cast a glance at his wristwatch and said: "Now you'll have to excuse me. I have to go and see the Minister to get some money for CI5. Might as well try to draw blood from a stone." He left the office, leaving behind two agents pondering the job ahead.

The next day, Doyle rang the doorbell of the house Alan and his mum lived in. He had just lifted his finger from the bell button when he heard Duncan racing towards the door, barking enthusiastically. Alan's mum Linda had to shout at the top of her lungs to make herself heard over the racket. "Hold on, I'll just put the pizza into the oven, I'll be right there." Duncan fell quiet and a little later, footsteps could be heard and the door was opened. Linda greeted her visitor with a bright smile. "Hello Ray, please come in. Alan will be home from school in about half an hour. Would you like to join us for a slice of pizza?" Doyle had just enough time to return the smile and accept the invitation before Duncan jumped at him. At once, they were involved in a game of wrestling which ended with Doyle lying flat on his back. Duncan put his front paws firmly on Doyle's hip to claim the victory. Doyle let the dog enjoy his triumph for a while, then he said: "Ger'off me, Duncan. You're as bad as Macklin." The dog gave a curt bark, then turned to run into the kitchen with Doyle following closely behind. Linda was busy preparing a salad when Doyle and Duncan entered. The CI5 agent collapsed into a chair and Linda said in a chiding tone of voice: "Duncan, Ray has come for a visit and not for a wrestling match. I bet he's tired at the end of a day filled with chasing villains."

Duncan tilted his head and gave Doyle an inquiring look. With a wink, Doyle said: "It's all right, Duncan! Linda, a little dog fight is a very good exercise for me. Duncan could be a trainer for CI5, I'm sure he could teach the agents one or two tricks to keep the baddies in line."

Linda and Doyle burst out laughing and Duncan accompanied their laughter with his barking. Suddenly, Doyle got serious and said: "Talking about baddies, I need to talk to you about your husband before Alan comes home."

Linda's face fell. She said: "Soon ex-husband. I've filed for divorce."

Raising an eye-brow, Doyle said: "I see!" Then he disclosed to her everything Mr. Cowley had told him in the briefing. During Doyle's deliberations, a number of emotions could be seen on Linda's face, like fear, astonishment and worry, but also hope.

Doyle asked: "What do you think of all this? Could he be serious about wanting to make a clean breast of it or is this just a plan to give the mob a chance to spring him?"

For a long while, Linda bit her lower lip and tapped an index finger against her chin. Then she said: "I wish I could answer that! I hope it's true, mainly for Alan's sake. I think there's a good chance Henry is serious. I mean, I've often wondered how he got involved with the mob. He was always a kind man who sometimes treated a poor patient for a little charge or no charge at all. One of his plans was to set up a regular consultation-hour during which needy people would be able see him for free once all the money he owed to the bank was paid back. Maybe that was one of the reasons he got into all this and I think, once you're in it up to your neck, you can't seem to find a way out. I wish he had confided in me, maybe we could have found a solution to all this." Linda was close to tears now and Doyle gave her a hug. After a while, he let her go and said: "Bodie and I will escort your husband to London and maybe you can have a talk when he's here." Linda nodded in response, then said: "Be careful, Ray!"

Giving her an encouraging smile, Doyle replied: "We will play it by the book. Major Cowley's orders, so don't you worry. We'll also increase the security for you and Alan."

Linda's worries didn't seem to be alleviated by Doyle's words, but any objection she might have wanted to voice was silenced by the doorbell and Alan's voice yelling: "Mum, I'm home."

Before she left the kitchen to open the door, Linda said: "We'd better not tell Alan any of this yet."

Doyle put a finger over his mouth in response.

When Alan came into the kitchen, he exclaimed: "Great to see you, Ray!" Doyle gave him a smile and asked: "Everything all right with you Alan?" The boy tossed his satchel into a corner and replied: "Sure! I've got an A for my last English test." Doyle gave him the thumbs up and Linda mouthed: "Well done!" Saying the words out loud would have been useless as Duncan, who had been a good dog during the conversation so far, started to bark again to celebrate. He stopped after a while and when Linda sent Alan to the bathroom to wash his hands before dinner, Duncan curled up in a ball under the table. A little while later, the pizza was ready to eat and they had a delicious dinner together. From time to time, Alan and Doyle fed Duncan little pieces of pizza and Linda, who usually complained about Duncan being spoilt, remained silent.

Two hours later, Doyle had to leave. Alan asked: "Can you come to see me play soccer the day after tomorrow?"

Linda and Ray exchanged glances before Doyle replied: "I'm very sorry, I can't, Alan. I'm on a special assignment!"

With a curious expression on his face, Alan inquired: "What kind of a special assignment?"

Doyle gave him a grin and said: "It's a secret assignment and I can't tell you any more about it."

Alan nodded, then said: "Just promise me to be careful, so you can come to the soccer game next week, Ray."

Ruffling Alan's hair, Doyle said: "I will be there, Alan, I promise!"

They said good-bye and Doyle left the house. Linda held Alan close with Duncan sitting in front of them while Ray got into his Capri, waved to them and drove away.

"I think I might come back here for a holiday with Lyn," said Doyle. It was Bodie's turn to steer the Capri along the narrow and winding moorland road, so Doyle seized the opportunity to take in the scenery. The sun was setting which made for some atmospheric sights. They had just passed a tor silhouetted against an orange sky. Dartmoor ponies and sheep were grazing in the distance and through the open side window the faint, but pleasant scent of blooming heather reached their noses.

Casting his partner an incredulous glance, Bodie said: "Well, I know how you'd spend the nights, but what the hell would the two of you do all day? There's nothing here apart from fern, rocks, ghosts, pixies, spectral hounds and a vast emptiness. That's why they built a prison around here. It's a punishment to be sent here! I really can't see why anybody would want to come here voluntarily."

Doyle didn't have to think long before answering: "Oh, I'm sure we'd find something to do. Hiking would be nice, maybe along with a bit of letterboxing, rock climbing, riding and a spot of fishing. Just the ticket for a quiet time away from the hustle and bustle of London."

Bodie rolled his eyes and said: "Hmm, and what if that hound your namesake wrote about chased you into one of the bogs and took a big bite out of you?"

"That hound is just a myth, Bodie, nothing to worry about," Doyle replied. After consulting the map placed in his lap, he added: "Speaking of my namesake, why don't we grab a bite to eat at the Castle Inn where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle supposedly stayed while doing research for The Hound Of The Baskervilles? We should reach Lydford in a couple of minutes and I'm not that keen on having dinner at Dartmoor prison. The shorter our stay there, the better. We go in, pick up Dr. Mitchell, head back and deliver our charge to the lads in Feltham before the sun rises over Tower Bridge."

With a grin, Bodie said: "Best idea you've had for a long time, mate!"

When they left the Castle Inn two hours later to tackle the last stretch of way to Dartmoor Prison, even Bodie had found a reason to come back to this vast emptiness. The Inn was owned and run by an elderly and friendly couple. During the summer months they needed a helping hand to cope with the steady stream of visitors, so they had to rely on hired help. That said hired help made Bodie lick his lips and he told Doyle: "That barmaid surely is a sight for sore eyes and the food she served..." He broke off and a dreamy expression crossed his face. Doyle frowned and said: "By the way you've been ogling her, there can't be anything sore with your eyes anymore, Bodie. I bet they would put a hawk to shame at the moment."

There was no mistaking the cheerful tone in Bodie's voice when he answered: "That may well be, but she didn't mind the attention at all." A mischievous grin passed Bodie's face when he added: "As a matter of fact, while you were in the loo, she slipped me a note with her telephone number and whispered into my ear that she has her own extension in her room, so I can call her anytime, day or night. I guess I'll join you and Lyn when you come here for a holiday and I hope I won't have to wait too long for that."

Sending a look heavenwards, Doyle said: "I hope all the ghosts, pixies and hounds forgive you for finding beauty only in the opposite sex and not in the charming picture of countryside all around."

Flashing a daring grin, Bodie said: "Ah, you're just jealous that she didn't give you her number."Doyle scoffed, then said: "I'm not on the prowl, you know. I'm very happy with Lyn."

"Yes, I know, Ray," Bodie said. "Now I've decided to come along with you two, maybe we should include Linda, Alan and Duncan as well?"

Doyle laughed, then said: "Yes, we'll take over the entire Castle Inn with our class outing I'm sure Duncan would have a great time with the sheep. Bearded Collies are herding dogs after all."

Rubbing his hands in gleeful anticipation, Bodie said: "All right, that's settled then. The next time we can wheedle some leave out of the old man, we'll come back here."

"With bag and baggage," Doyle replied and gave Bodie a broad grin.

All the friendly bickering and bantering came to a sudden end when the floodlit Dartmoor prison came into their sight some twenty minutes later. The half moon shone on the tall buildings which were surrounded by fences and a stone wall. Light filtered through many windows and from time to time, one could hear a guard dog barking. All in all, the place provided a sight which bore a marked contrast to the peaceful and serene landscape they had passed earlier. An unidentified flying object wouldn't have seemed a lot more out of place than Her Majesty's Prison Dartmoor, often referred to as "The Moors". When the Capri passed the stone arch that served as entrance to the prison area, Bodie and Doyle felt like entering a completely different world. When a warden accompanied them to the governor's office, they soon lost count of the number of heavy doors that had to be opened for them to walk through and relocked after their passage. The sound the doors made when they banged shut filled Bodie and Doyle with a queasy feeling. They had been in the prison only for a couple of minutes and they knew they would depart very soon. They didn't expect Dr. Mitchell to have lots of things to pack, so they hoped to be on their way back to London in about an hour. Their time here was very limited indeed, but it sure strengthened their dislike for this place. Doyle's thoughts went back to his days as a tearaway...what if he hadn't joined the Force? He may have well ended up here, so who was he to mistrust a man asking for his second chance? Their steps echoed in the starkly lit hallway as they went along and provided the backbeat to Doyle's thoughts. No inmates could be seen as the cells were already locked for the night.

Bodie gave the warden a questioning look and asked: "Do you feel like you're locked in as well sometimes?" Freedom was very important to Bodie, that was one of the reasons he had joined the Merchant Navy when he was seventeen and had jumped ship two years later. As a mercenary, he had sold his services to the man who could offer the most exciting job and the highest pay. When he had joined the army and later CI5, a lot of that freedom had to be sacrificed and there were days he longed for the trial and turbulence of his younger days, but all things considered, life in CI5 with Doyle as partner was good.

According to him, a man would do almost anything to keep or regain his freedom, so his suspicions against Dr. Mitchell were still strong.

The warden answered his question: "Well, it is true, the wardens are sort of locked in here as well, but there's a big difference: We can go home at the end of our shifts."

Bodie and Doyle exchanged glances while the warden knocked at a door. At the cry of "come in", he ushered them into the governor's office.

Callum Dexter had run Dartmoor prison for ten years. During this time, he had seen many hard cases. Hopeless cases, which arrived back in Dartmoor shortly after their release. Then there were men who were never seen in Dartmoor or any other of Her Majesty's prisons again once the exit gate had shut behind them. Dr. Henry Mitchell was a bit of a peculiar case. Immediately after his arrival, his favourite pastime was ranting against the law enforcement agencies in general and against some of its members in particular. However, after a time spent in solitary confinement, the ranting stopped and was replaced by brooding. After what appeared to have been a long soul searching process, Dr. Mitchell asked for an appointment with the governor. It took one hour of conversation to convince Callum Dexter to call Major Cowley to inform him about this inmate's intentions. Now the two agents the CI5 Controller had sent to take Dr. Mitchell to London to put his intentions to the test were led into his office. They presented their IDs and introduced themselves. Callum Dexter shook their hands and eyed them critically. Major Cowley had told him these men were his top team and that they were the ones who had stopped Dr. Mitchell from killing his son. For the governor's liking, they looked a bit too scruffy for employees of Her Majesty, but he had taken a peek at their personal files and their record of successfully completed missions was quite impressive. He turned to the warden and said: "Simmons, go and bring Dr. Mitchell here. Tell him the time for his transfer is now!" The warden tipped his cap and left the office. Mr. Dexter turned to Bodie and Doyle, gave them a smile and asked: "Can I offer you something to eat while we wait? You must be starving after your drive here."

Doyle replied: "Thanks for the offer, but we had dinner at a pub to save you the trouble of feeding two extra mouths, especially one as big as my partner's." He cast Bodie a sly glance and Bodie mouthed "thanks a bundle" in return.

With a knowledgeable smile, Mr. Dexter said: "Truth be told, you didn't exactly fancy prison food!"

Doyle snapped his fingers and exclaimed: "Rumbled again! Looks like you're a good judge of character, so what do you think about our Dr. Mitchell's change of heart?"

After a short period of hesitation, Mr. Dexter said: "I think he's playing it straight. What he has done is unforgivable and I know that he hurt you, Mr. Doyle, but I think he's serious about wanting to make amends. To me, it looks like a case of not being able to wave before drowning and when the water was way too deep, he clutched to that last straw of life in Argentina with his son. Realising that plan was doomed to failure, he went out of control. That's my opinion, but I'm no shrink."

Doyle nodded thoughtfully, then said: "Well, our Dr. Ross is certainly looking forward to some sessions with him."

Bodie added: "I hope that means we're off the hook for a while. Oh, and Mr. Dexter, may we have a cup of tea and some biscuits while we wait? Since my partner here has already revealed the fact that I have a healthy appetite, I feel free to ask. "

Mr. Dexter headed for his desk, reached for the phone and made a call to the kitchen to order some light refreshments. Then he pointed to some chairs and said: "We'd better sit down."

When Simmons arrived with Dr. Mitchell, the conversation in the governor's office stopped abruptly and the temperature in the room seemed to drop by a considerable number of degrees. To the same extent, the tension in the room was rising. Bodie gave Dr. Mitchell an openly hostile look and even on Doyle's face a wary expression could be recognised, though he did his best to hide it.

While Dr. Mitchell shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back apprehensively, he studied the two CI5 agents. The last time he had seen them, they had given testimony during the trial at the end of which he had been sentenced to do twelve years here in this wretched place with an icy calm. Now the short-haired agent radiated an air of contempt and the curly-haired agent tried his best to keep a dispassionate attitude, but failed miserably.

Bodie and Doyle studied the doctor as well and both reached the conclusion that he had lost all the arrogance and aloofness he had shown during the trial. His shoulders were rounded and slumped, his face pale and his eyes dull. His short hair showed more grey streaks than during the trial. Life in Dartmoor was tough for men who had committed a crime against children and even tougher for a man who had sinned against his own son. Men like Dr. Mitchell were at the bottom of the barrel according to the code of honour in this place where the mere thought of the existence of such thing as a code of honour seemed way beyond comprehension considering the horrible crimes those upholding it had committed. Bodie and Doyle hadn't been exactly surprised when Mr. Dexter had revealed to them that the doctor had already had a good deal of accidents and mishaps during his time in Dartmoor prison.

It was Dr. Mitchell who broke the silence. Summoning up what was left of his courage, he drew himself up to his full height, took a sharp breath and crossed the distance to stand in front of Doyle. His voice was slightly shaky when he said: "Mr. Doyle, I want to apologise for you getting hurt when you rescued my son. I hope the wound to your arm healed well. To say I was beyond reason is a very lame excuse for what I did, but I'm truly sorry."

He held out his hand to Doyle and after a moment of hesitation, the CI5 agent took a firm grip of it and said: "Apology accepted. The wound didn't cause a lot of trouble and I hope the same can be said for the wound to your shoulder." He didn't feel like offering an apology for putting a bullet through the doctor's shoulder in return as he didn't regret that shot in the least, though his partner was convinced that he would even blame himself for the invention of gunpowder.

Moving his shoulder, Dr. Mitchell replied: "No major problems, thank you for asking."

The tension in the room eased a little and even the cold glare Bodie had been giving the doctor turned from "way below zero" to "slightly above zero".

Dr. Mitchell gave Doyle an inquiring look and asked: "How is Alan?"

Allowing himself a smile, Doyle replied: "He's fine now. He was plagued by nightmares for a time, but they decreased in number and intensity with Duncan getting better."

Not being able to hold Doyle's gaze any longer, the doctor turned his eyes to the ground.

Doyle added: "The dog made a full recovery. Even the hair at the spot where they had to shave him before the surgery has grown back fully and last week, Duncan won first prize at a dog show. Needless to say, Alan was very proud."

Looking up from the ground again, Dr. Mitchell said: "I'm happy about that. Does Alan want to see me?"

Doyle looked the doctor straight into the eyes and replied: "We haven't asked him yet as this would be very likely to disturb him. Maybe after the trial we can discuss the matter, but the lad's welfare has to be our utmost concern."

The corner's of Dr. Mitchell's mouth drooped slightly and he said: "I understand."

Mr. Dexter said: "These things will happen in their own time, but I guess you should better leave now. I listened the weather forecast shortly before you arrived and they said there might be a thunderstorm." Addressing Dr. Mitchell he added: "I'm not sure whether you'll come back here or whether they will keep you in London. Make the best of this opportunity."

In a determined tone of voice, Dr. Mitchell replied: "I will!"

After good-byes had been said, Simmons accompanied Bodie, Doyle and Dr. Mitchell to the Capri. Bodie stowed Dr. Mitchell's belongings in the boot of the Capri and a few minutes later, they left the prison area. In the distance, the faint rolling of thunder could be heard.

About forty minutes later, the rolling of thunder had increased in loudness considerably despite Bodie's earlier prediction that they would drive faster than the thunderstorm approached. "We'll be out of Dartmoor National Park and in Exeter way before the first drop of rain falls down onto the dry moorland if I do the driving," had been Bodie's exact words. Knowing his partner's attitude behind the wheel, Doyle had been inclined to agree and they had decided that it would be Bodie's turn to take them to Exeter, where Doyle would take over the wheel. What had seemed like a good idea then, now looked like it was doomed to failure as the first drops of rain landed heavily on the windscreen of the Capri, creating bizarre zigzag lines in the layer of dust which had accumulated on the windscreen. These zigzag lines were mirrored by several flashes of lightning which appeared in the sky. Doyle fixed his gaze to the second hand of his watch and when the rolling of thunder could be heard, he said: "The thunderstorm is only about five miles away." Facing Bodie with a frown on his face, he asked: "What shall we do? Shall we try to find cover in Sourton or shall we go on?"

Switching on the wipers, Bodie attempted a grin and said: "We could go back to the Castle Inn to pay a visit to Debra, the lovely barmaid. I'd certainly love to find cover under her covers." Doyle countered Bodie's quib with an exasperated shout: "Bodie, pick your mind up from the gutter for a while!"

Bodie gave his partner a placating smile and said: "All right, all right. As we're under strict orders to play it by the book by the old man, we should head to Sourton and sit tight till the thunderstorm is over."

Now it was Doyle's turn to grin and he said: "Looks like the lovely Debra hasn't killed your capacity for logical thinking totally. I'm very pleased and relieved about that!" When he had a look in the rear view mirror, he could see that he wasn't the only one in the car who felt relieved, Dr. Mitchell seemed to be happy about the decision to seek shelter as well. There was even a trace of a smile on the doctor's face which had been rather tense throughout the trip. Doyle turned his attention back to the road ahead of the Capri. It was raining heavily now and the road turned rather slippery, so Bodie changed down a gear. Checking the rear view mirror more closely because a sudden movement behind them had caught his eye, he said: "Bloody hell, there's a madman behind us, that car is going way too fast considering the terrible weather!"

Doyle didn't get a chance to turn round to have a look at the blue Morris Minor, as the car came alongside the Capri very fast, tail wagging wildly. Doyle reached for his gun instinctively, but before he could get it out of his holster, the Morris Minor had completed its dodgy overtaking manoeuvre, getting back into the left lane far too close to the Capri's nose. Bodie hit the brakes, but the wheels found no grip on the wet moorland road and the car went out of control. Accompanied by a heavy crunching noise, metal impacted with wood when the nose of the Capri hit a telephone pole. Only a split second later, it skidded into the roadside ditch. Mercifully, it didn't roll over, thus saving its passengers from going on a scary ride.

The Morris Minor went on without slowing down the slightest bit.

Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, lending the sight of the damaged Capri in the ditch an otherworldly air. This time, the thunder could be heard almost simultaneously with the appearance of the flash of lightning. Then there was an eerie silence.