by SL Beaumont
Chapter 31
“What the hell is Sam doing here?” James said. “He works for Steph’s Dad.”
Two men remained just inside the front door talking quietly. They carried themselves with the alert wariness of bodyguards.
James and Andy silently edged back along the passage to James’ bedroom and quietly closed the door. James called DI Marks to relay the information on their visitors. He put his phone on speaker so that Max could hear. There was a brief moment of silence when James said that one of the guys meeting with his brother was Sam Jones.
“Are you sure, James?” Max asked.
“Positive,” James replied. “Is there any news on Steph?”
“No. We’ll be there in 15 minutes. Stop them if they try to leave,” DI Marks instructed.
“Ok.”
James had just clicked his phone off when it chimed signalling the arrival of a text message. James opened it. It was from Michael.
I remember. David says your GF smuggled Germans thru wine cellars under your house. S could be there?
He passed the phone to Andy, so he could read the text.
“Where are the wine cellars?” he asked.
“Haven’t a clue – the current wine ‘cellar’,” James said writing air commas, “is off the kitchen in an air conditioned room. I didn’t know there were any others. Although now that you mention it, Stephanie told me that she read that all of these big houses used to have tunnels which led out to the sea, relics from the old smuggling days.”
“Do you know if there are any plans or drawings of the house?” Andy asked thoughtfully.
“Dunno. Let’s check the library,” James replied leading the way.
The boys left the library door ajar as they searched through a row of cupboards under the bookshelves on one wall.
“Here. What are these?” Andy said pulling out several rolls of blueprints. They began unrolling them on the desk when they heard voices coming from downstairs.
James went running from the library leaving Andy pouring over the plans.
Sam was standing in the entrance foyer looking up the staircase. Behind him Alex and the other man were shaking hands. The two security guys had taken up position, one at the front door and one bringing up the rear. Alex started leading his visitors to the door, but they didn’t notice that Sam wasn’t following.
“Back to get ya arse kicked again, Sammy boy,” James taunted, slowly descending the stairs.
“Look, it’s the gay one from the boy band,” Sam scowled at him.
In the distance, James could hear the low thump of a helicopter approaching. He had to stall them.
“Find ya car keys Sammy?” he asked.
“Piss off and die you little bastard. She’ll see you for the punk you are. And when she does I’ll be there to pick up the pretty little pieces,” Sam said giving James a knowing look. James flushed an angry red, clenching his fists at his sides.
Alex cleared his throat and glaring at James, said coldly. “I see you have met my little brother. James, please go back to your room. I will deal with you later.”
To his guests he said smoothly, “My apologies gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”
Sam smirked at James’ telling off. Hearing the raised voices, Andy had come down the stairs behind James with a roll of plans in his hands.
Alex swept the front door open, ushering the older man through. The sound of cars speeding up the driveway and the flash of headlights greeted them.
“Perfect timing,” Andy said softly. The noise from the helicopter was suddenly deafening as it swooped low over the house.
James leapt from the third step at Sam as Alex yelled, “Oh God, James. What. Have. You. Done?” Alex leaned forward and snatched the large art folio that the older man was carrying, and rushed back into his study slamming the door and turning a key in the lock.
Sam went down hard, with James on top of him. They rolled around the foyer throwing punches at one another, while the older man shouted at his security, “Get into that room and stop him. He has both the money and the painting.”
The security men rushed through the open doorway and started trying to force the study door open.
The headlights of at least half a dozen cars appeared around the lake and the helicopter took another turn over the house. Outside, one of the drivers dropped down behind the open car door, and pulling a gun took a shot at the swooping helicopter.
From the helicopter, Max Cooper surveyed the scene below. The front of the house was bathed in light from both inside and from the headlights of all the vehicles in the driveway. The helicopter banked and turned at that moment, obscuring his view.
Max held onto the handrail above his head and leaned slightly out of the open door of the helicopter. Something whistled loudly past his head and hit the helicopter with a thump. They were being shot at.
“Move,” the officer beside him shouted pulling a semi-automatic rifle from beneath the seat. Max hastily undid his safety harness and slid to the middle of the bench seat, as the officer took his position in the open door and began firing on the cars immediately in front of the house. On his other side and in the front passenger seat of the helicopter the other officers were doing the same. Max sat forward and looked out of the front window. The doors of the cars were open and men with guns were taking shelter behind them and returning fire.
A police car ran off the driveway and rolled towards the lake, its tires shot out. A man rolled from the driver’s seat and lay on his stomach, weapon ready to fire. Max’s thoughts drifted to Stephanie. There had been no message from her or from whoever she was with. He prayed that she hadn’t somehow gotten mixed up in this. But in his heart, he didn’t believe that.
He silently cursed himself for sending Stephanie to the village when he suspected what Alex Knox was up to. Although he knew that he couldn’t have factored her getting involved with his younger brother, into his plans.
The helicopter passed over the house and banked again for another sweep over the driveway. There was another series of thumps into the metal sides of the helicopter and the pilot came over the headset announcing that he was going to have to put it down, right now.
They landed on the grass beside the lake, behind the police cars that now lined the driveway. Max gingerly jumped onto the grass, running in a crouch position towards a line of trees until he was well away from still rotating blades of the helicopter. “Get down, sir,” said an officer who had followed, covering him. Max crouched, his heart racing and breathing rapid.
All around the cracks of gun shots echoed for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a minute or so, until one by one they went silent.
A voice called out through the dark night, “Throw down your weapons and stand up slowly”. The crash of metal hitting gravel sounded for a few more seconds. Then the sound of feet running over gravel and shouts of “Clear” as each of the security team was disarmed.
Max stayed where he was until the officer guarding him called, “It’s all clear, sir.” Max took a deep breath, straightened up and followed him towards the house.
Four men were lying face down in front of the house with their hands on their heads, being body searched and handcuffed. Two more sat against a car with blood on their faces and shirts.
“Paramedics on their way,” said DI Marks as he stepped forward taking charge. “Secure those weapons,” he ordered an officer to his right.
Max continued walking towards the house, where a man in a suit was standing by the open door with two officers holding his arms. Max’s steps slowed and his mouth fell open in disbelief as he turned towards him.
“Hello Max,” said Peter Jones.
Chapter 32
When bullets had smashed two of the front windows, James and Andy had taken cover under the stairs. They didn’t know (or care) what Sam had done, but once the shooting stopped, James had seen him trying to slip into his grandfather’s study and had shoved him hard
up against the wall and held him there. Through the open door they could see the police rounding up Peter’s security team.
“It’s ok mate. The cavalry have arrived,” Andy called. James stepped back letting Sam go, but the look of violence in his eye told him in no uncertain terms what would happen if he tried to escape again.
Sam stood unsteadily wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. His suit was dishevelled and tie askew. James’ lip which had just healed from their last fight had opened again and blood was dripping onto his shirt. He gingerly put a hand to his ribs. He was going to be sore tomorrow.
“What are you doing with my brother?” he asked Sam.
“None of your business,” Sam said.
“Actually, I’m beginning to think it might be,” James said. He strode over to Alex’s door and turned the handle. Locked. He shook it and banged his fist on the door.
“Alex! Open up,” he shouted.
There was no answer.
He turned as Max strode into the foyer.
“Have you found her?” he asked.
James shook his head.
“Who? Not Stephanie?” Sam asked. He sat down heavily on the bottom step of the staircase.
“Yes, Stephanie. What do you know about her disappearance?” Max roughly pulled him to his feet, his voice a barely controlled growl.
“Nothing, sir,” Sam said unable to meet Max’s eyes.
“Bring Peter in here,” Max called through the open door way to Vince.
Peter was frogmarched back into the foyer.
“You have a lot of questions to answer, my friend,” Max said as he held up his hand in a stop motion, as Peter started to speak, “but first things. Where. Is. My. Daughter?” he finished the sentence shouting.
Peter looked confused and a little wary. “I know nothing of Stephanie’s whereabouts,” he said slowly.
“Have you asked James here? The last time I saw her, she was disappearing on the back of his bike,” Sam spat.
Max gave him a withering look. “A lot has happened since then,” he said. He turned back to Peter and said, “I trusted you. Please don’t tell me that you are involved with Alex Knox and his shady business deals?”
Peter averted his eyes.
“Dude, I’ve found it.” Andy came bounding down the stairs carrying several large sheets of rolled paper. “These plans are from 1860 and these ones are from 1935 – both show extensive cellars and tunnels with several entrances,” he said. He stopped short when he saw the foyer crowded with people. “Ah…”
“Where are the entrances – let me look?” James shoved a pile of newspapers off the circular table in the centre of the foyer and helped Andy unroll the plans.
“What’s this about plans and cellars?” Max asked impatiently.
James sighed and began to explain, “According to your uncle’s memoirs, apparently my grandfather used the wine cellars to smuggle Germans out of Europe before and during the war. We’ve been talking to Michael, who read part of the memoir and he thinks that maybe whoever Alex has working for him may have Stephanie hidden in those cellars. Trouble is, I have lived here all my life and I don’t know of any tunnels or cellars beneath the house,” he said.
“Speaking of grandfathers – where’s yours?” Max asked. “I have a few questions for him. Surely he must have heard this commotion?”
“You would think. But he’s not well and takes a sleeping pill each night, so chances are he has slept through it,” James replied.
Max looked long and hard at Peter, who continued to shake his head and held his hands in front of him, backing away from Max, until he ran into the solid form that was Vince.
“Were you involved with just Alex or the old man too?” Max asked.
“Just Alex, but I was of the understanding that the old man was happy to let Alex do all of the negotiating,” Peter said.
“Huh – you mean Alex steamrolled him – he’s old. He doesn’t know what day of the week it is half the time,” James hissed.
“Where is Alex now?” Max asked.
“He’s locked himself in his study,” James spoke up, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand and pointing at the closed door to Alex’s study.
“Vince?” Max indicated toward the study door with his chin.
Vince rattled the door handle. Still locked.
“Marks?” Vince signalled to the detective who had just walked into the foyer. Together they shoulder charged the door. Apart from a slight splitting sound, it didn’t budge.
Vince reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed a roll of fabric. Inside were several long metal objects a little like crochet hooks. Crouching down he inserted two into the lock on the door and twisted. There was a click and the lock sprung open.
“Handy skill to have,” Andy commented dryly to James.
Holding their guns aloft, Vince and Marks took up position either side of the door. Kicking it wide open, they stepped inside and swept the room with their guns pointed. The study was empty.
“Clear,” Marks called.
“Clear,” Vince agreed after checking behind the large leather chesterfield sofa.
“Where is he then? Gone out a window?” demanded Max.
“No. They are all locked from the inside,” Marks called after checking.
Max turned to James.
“Any ideas – he can’t have just vanished into thin air,” Max said.
James shrugged, at a loss to explain the disappearance, as Andy called out from the foyer. “James – look at this. Does this mean a tunnel entrance?”
James jogged to Andy’s side and together they studied the plans.
“Mr Cooper,” James called. “Can you take a look at this?”
Max examined the plans, running his finger lightly over the parchment. “This looks like steps down here and here,” he said. He pointed to the edge of an internal wall in Alex’s study and also from the sitting room on the opposite side of the entrance foyer.
“Are you sure that your grandfather is not able to help us with this?” Max asked James again.
“No sir,” Grace spoke up. She had appeared at the bottom of the stairs in her dressing gown with her husband beside her. “You’ll be getting nothing from him ‘til morning. I’ve just checked and he’s sleepin’ like a baby,” she said.
Max raised his eyebrows at James questioningly.
James nodded. “Yeah, I know it looks convenient. But it’s true. This is our housekeeper Grace and her husband Ken,” he added introducing them.
DI Marks and Lt David joined them in the foyer. They had been listening to the conversation and leaned over to study the plans. “Ok, then let’s investigate this set of stairs,” Marks said. He pointed to the ones marked on the map in Alex’s study.
“Ok,” said James. “But there’s no doorway or anything in there that I have ever seen.”
DI Marks signalled to two uniformed officers and gave them instructions on looking for a doorway or even trap door. Andy and James joined in the search. While the police officer’s shifted Alex’s desk and lifted the rugs that were beneath it, James and Andy ran their hands along the gaps in between the bookshelves looking for a doorway.
There was nothing.
“It must have been bricked up years ago,” James concluded.
Andy stood back studying the bookshelves. He walked over and started pulling out books and stacking them on the floor. James watched him for a few seconds and then joined him. They emptied the top two shelves and stood back looking at it.
“I dunno mate,” James said. “This looks like a really solid bookcase; he wouldn’t have moved it in a hurry, especially loaded with books.”
“Let’s try one more row,” Andy suggested reaching for a large art history volume in the centre of the shelf. There was a loud click as he started to remove it and the whole bookshelf started moving. It swung outwards and he had to leap backwards to avoid it crashing into him.
The two boys pe
ered behind it. There, cut into the wall where the bookcase had been, was an opening and a brick staircase leading down into darkness.
Chapter 33
Stephanie took a steadying breath and edged her way along the wall into the darkness. The cold seemed to shroud her, causing goose bumps to break out along her arms, and a sweet musty smell hit her nostrils. Ahead in the gloom, she could hear little scurrying feet and she supressed a shudder. Keeping the fingers of one hand trailing lightly against the wall, she took a few more tentative steps, desperately trying to get her eyes accustomed to the dark. This room is much bigger than it appears.
Suddenly, the key turned in the lock and the door flew open. She froze, her heart threatening to hammer out of her chest, as Alex strolled calmly into the room. He paused and swore as his gaze passed over the empty bed.
“Where are you Steph? Do I have to come and find you? Is that what you want? A little game of hide and seek?” he asked mockingly. “What does the winner get?” he continued, his voice turning cold and menacing. “You won’t get away and when I’m gone, no one will find you.”
Stephanie looked around terrified. There was nowhere to go, except further into the darkness. She could sense Alex stalking towards her. There was nothing for it – she had to run. She plunged into the darkness, until hands in front of her, she crashed into a wall. Turning to her left, she caught sight of row upon row of narrow shelves stretching across into the darkness. Quickly skirting along several rows, she raced down one of them, hoping that Alex hadn’t seen which one she had selected. Unfortunately he had. Glancing over her shoulder, she could sense him gaining on her. A break in the shelves appeared on her right and she took it, immediately doubling back towards the far wall again. Her eyes had adapted to the gloom and this time she saw the end wall before she came to it. She quickly skipped along two rows and paused, hiding.
Alex had stopped running too.
Oh, hell, she thought, desperately listening for any sound. A scuff to her left and she started running again, back towards the light. Footsteps sounded behind or maybe they were beside her? She wasn’t sure. The drum beat of her heart threatened to drown out all other sounds.
