The Carlswick Affair

by SL Beaumont

  Chapter 34

  James and Andy crept cautiously down the steps – fifteen in all, until their feet landed on a dirt floor. The light from their phones illuminated a tunnel stretched out into the darkness in front of them. The low roof curved over them.

  “What can you see?” Max called down from the study.

  “Not much. It looks like a tunnel, built into the foundations. We need those torches,” James called back, irritated at the delay.

  “Vince is just getting some from the cars,” Max said. There was a pause. “Here he is.”

  “Let me go first, boys – Alex is probably armed.” Vince came down the steps, followed by two detectives, and handed Andy and James a torch each.

  “But he’s my brother…..” James began. He was going to say, ‘he wouldn’t hurt me’, but he suddenly wasn’t sure that that was true. After all the beatings he had received at his hands over the years, he knew how spiteful and nasty Alex could be, especially once their father had died and there was no one around who cared enough or was able to protect him.

  Vince raised his eyebrows to him and James deferred to the older man and stepped aside.

  “Coming, Max?” Vince called back up the stairs.

  Max shuddered, peering into the darkness, “No – I’m going to stay here while Marks and Eli question Peter and Sam. But if you find any sign of her – let me know and I’ll come straight down,” he said.

  Vince and the two officers started moving stealthily down the tunnel with James and Andy close behind. At intervals heavy wooden doors were set into the stone walls. They stopped at the first one. The officers took up positions either side of the door with their hands holding both their guns and torches trained on the door as Vince carefully turned the knob. It swung open. Empty.

  They moved slowly down the passageway, stopping and repeating the process at each doorway. Some doors opened easily, but others were so tightly shut that it was clear that they hadn’t been unlocked in years. The floor of the tunnel was uneven and paved with the same red bricks as the walls and ceiling.

  After about fifty metres the tunnel turned sharply to the right, leading away from under the house. As they rounded the corner they could see a dim light. Vince turned and put his finger to his lips and signalled military fashion to the two detectives who spread out, their guns raised. He held his hand in a ‘stop’ gesture to the boys.

  The floor turned to dirt and a cold breeze gently swept through the tunnel. As they inched further along, it became clear that the light was coming from another room.

  Silently creeping, they saw that the door was ajar. The officers took up a position either side and Vince entered the room, gun raised. After what seemed like an eternity to James and Andy, he called, “Clear.”

  They followed hard on the heels of the two officers into an enormous wine cellar. As they shone their torches to the right, it was apparent that it stretched a long way back under the house. To their left, lit by a single hanging bulb, was a small alcove with a camp bed and desk.

  “Someone has been here recently,” Vince said, leaning over the bed and touching something with his fingers.

  “What is it?” James asked, an edge in his voice.

  “Blood,” Vince replied.

  Andy cursed. He crouched down beside him, picking up a broken piece of plastic box tie. “Hey, what’s this?”

  “Not sure,” Vince said, but he and the two detectives exchanged a knowing look, one of them pulling a plastic bag from his pocket and carefully placing the tie inside.

  James caught the look, a feeling of dread running through him. “Steph’s been here, hasn’t she?” he said fearfully.

  “It looks that way,” Vince said as he bent down and picked up a square white cloth from the floor. He sniffed it gingerly. “Ooooh.” He threw it hastily away onto the bed, for the detective to bag. “Chloroform – that’s how she was subdued. And it looks like it made her ill.” He nodded towards the puddle of vomit.

  James shivered involuntarily. “Well, where is she then?”

  The two detectives did a quick search among the rows of wine racks with their powerful flashlights.

  “Vince – I think you’d better look at this,” one of them called.

  Vince jogged to join him at the far side of the cellar. James and Andy exchanged tense glances and then followed.

  The detective was shining his flashlight into a large crate. “Here, help me get the lid off this?”

  Vince handed his torch to Andy and started lifting the broken lid of the crate. Suddenly he stopped and stepped quickly backwards. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, horror in his voice.

  The detective shook his head gravely. “And there’s more than one.”

  James felt his mouth go dry. “Stephanie?” his voice came out in a whisper.

  “Old bones,” the detective answered, pulling his mobile from his pocket. “We need back up down here.”

  James gathered his courage and stepped forward to look in the crate, unsure that he really wanted to see discover what was inside, if the look on Vince’s face was anything to go by. He tentatively held the edge and peered in. The base of the crate was covered with fabric and scattered bones. But worst of all, two skulls smiled grotesquely back at him.

  “Surely Alex wouldn’t do this?” he said quietly, not quite believing what he had just witnessed.

  “Well, where is he then? I think we need to keep searching – he can’t have gotten far with an unconscious girl,” Vince said.