by SL Beaumont
“Come on Stephanie. You know you can’t outrun me,” he taunted. She halted again, but didn’t reply. His voice gave her an indication of where he was - in front, somewhere. Abruptly she changed direction and tiptoed across another two rows. The cellar was vast, but the racks were empty. Weaving her way among them, she reached the final row, which was filled with wooden crates.
Maybe I could hide in one? She thought, but immediately dismissed the idea – I would be trapped.
Creeping slowly back towards the light, she used the crates to duck behind, every few steps.
“Well, you just make yourself comfortable down there, while I finish packing,” Alex called amiably from the alcove at one end of the cellar. He set his powerful flashlight down on the floor, illuminating the rows.
Stephanie pushed herself between the crates, out of sight. I wonder what’s in all of these crates? The crate nearest to her had been broken open. Curious, she peered inside. A skull peered sightlessly back at her.
She screamed and scrambled backwards.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you that you were sharing a room,” Alex called, laughing. “They pissed me off too, you know,” he added, menacingly.
They? Stephanie gulped and started running, zigzagging in and out of the shelves until she was back on the far side of the room. Terror filled her and she struggled for breath. The nausea seemed worse again and she crouched down against the wall trying to calm herself.
Keep moving Steph.
Creeping silently forward, she peeked through a gap in the racks and watched from the shadows as Alex lifted up a tarpaulin and pulled out a large backpack and two suitcases and placed them by the door. He crouched, sorting through a large box on the floor. This is my chance, she thought.
Taking a deep breath, she started running towards the open door. As she passed through the doorway, she saw Alex straighten and turn towards her, his arms outstretched.
“Come back here, you little bitch,” he shouted.
She was so busy looking back over her shoulder to see where he was, that she wasn’t watching where she was going.
“Ooomph,” her breath was knocked out of her as she ran into a solid mass. She felt her arms trapped and looked down to see large weathered hands holding her, vice like. Turning her frightened gaze upwards, her eyes met those of a tall, heavy set, unshaven man. He smiled, smothering her with sour breath from a mouth missing several teeth.
Terror took over. “James!” she screamed before a hand clamped over her mouth.
* * *
“Did you hear that?” James peered down into the darkness. He could have sworn that he heard Stephanie scream his name in the distance somewhere below his feet. Jeez maybe he was hearing things now. Andy shook his head, he hadn’t heard anything.
“Where are those bloody torches? Hurry up,” he shouted impatiently over his shoulder.
“Grace’s gone to find some,” said Andy.
“Arrgh,” James muttered, frustrated. “I’m sure my phone will give enough light. Come on,” he said, as he pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and switched it on by touching the screen. He quickly found the flashlight app.
“Right behind you dude,” Andy said also pulling his phone out. Together they gingerly descended the stairs.
* * *
“Wadda ya wanna do with her?” the man said to Alex, who came running out of the room after her.
“She has caused me no end of problems, give her to me,” he said. “You take care of the bags.”
Alex pulled her roughly from the man. She tried unsuccessfully to bite him as his hand replaced the other man’s over her mouth. He dragged her struggling, further down the corridor. She dug her heels into the dirt floor trying to slow him down, but he was really strong. He threw her heavily into the wall momentarily dazing her while he struggled with the rusty slide bolts on the top and bottom of a door that appeared to be cut into the brick. Stephanie briefly saw blackness at the edge of her vision and put her hand to her head feeling a trickle of blood from her temple.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw the big guy shake his head and disappear into the wine cellar.
“Alex,” she said sweetly, straightening up and using his arm to balance.
He paused, surprised at her tone, a frown creasing his face.
Putting her other hand on his opposite shoulder, she pulled herself upright and using his arms for extra leverage, quickly raised her knee, slamming it into his groin.
“Arrgh,” he gurgled, doubling over in pain. As his head lowered, Stephanie punched him hard in the jaw, sending him sprawling into the wall.
Two brothers, two days, she thought ironically, shaking her bruised hand, as she began running down the tunnel towards the light.
“Stop her,” she heard Alex shout.
Heavy footsteps pounded after her, but this time she didn’t make the mistake of looking back. As she rounded the corner in front of her, the tunnel abruptly ended.
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. Shining 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.
“S
omeone has been here recently,” Vince said leaning over the bed touching something with his fingers.
“What is it?” James asked, an edge in his voice.
“Blood,” Vince replied.
“Shit,” 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.
* * *
A farm truck was parked in the entrance to the tunnel. Two men stood leaning against it with their backs to her, smoking and talking in low voices.
It was a clear night, with a full moon, which illuminated the landscape. Stephanie knew she had to keep moving and get out of sight. But where, without being seen? The sound of footsteps behind her propelled her forward and she dropped and rolled under the truck. It was cramped, dirty and smelly. Gross.
Alex came limping out of the tunnel.
She held her breath as his feet came to within inches of her face, inadvertently kicking dust into it. She screwed up her eyes, which watered involuntarily. She didn’t dare move to rub them.
“Which way did she go?” he shouted.
“Who?” one of the men asked, pushing himself off the truck.
“The girl,” Alex replied, sounding exasperated.
“Haven’t seen any girls tonight, mate.”
“She can’t have got far. Spread out and search. Quickly,” he hissed, as they hesitated. “We don’t have much time.” He turned and jogged back into the tunnel, the darkness immediately swallowing him.
From her prone position beneath the truck, Stephanie saw the two men slowly walk off in different directions, muttering. She crawled out, keeping the truck between her and the men. Glancing across at the tunnel entrance, afraid that Alex would reappear, she could hardly see it. It had been cleverly disguised to look like part of the hillside.
Unbelievable. Now where to hide?
She quickly made her way to a cluster of rocks and bushes to one side of the tunnel and crouched down behind them, just as the men returned from their somewhat rudimentary search.
“Girl? There’s no girl here. You don’t think he’s losing it, do ya,” one of the men said chuckling. They resumed their positions leaning against the truck.
Stephanie watched as Alex ran back out of the tunnel, a backpack slung across one shoulder and carrying a large art folio.
Her breath caught. I hope that’s not the Van Gogh, she thought.
“No sign of her?” he demanded. The waiting men shook their heads. Alex spun around slowly in a complete circle, his eyes scanning the hillside. He swore under his breath. The big guy came puffing out of the tunnel behind him, lugging two heavy suitcases, which he lifted onto the flat deck of the truck
“Ok. We are out of time,” Alex said glancing at his watch. “She won’t get far in the dark.”
Alex and the two men climbed into the truck’s cab and the big guy hoisted himself up on the back. The truck started and they began driving down the rough track towards the river.
From her hiding place, Stephanie felt a wave of relief flood through her and she let out a long shaky breath. Jeez, that was close.
Staying hidden, she watched the truck continue its journey down the hill. Stephanie could just make out the outlines of the hedgerows and stone walls which separated the fields. Very different from the wire and wooden fenced paddocks of New Zealand farms, she thought, suddenly feeling a little homesick. The river wound its way down through the valley.
She shivered in the cool night air and wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to keep warm. Her legs began to cramp painfully. Just as she stood the truck stopped. Crouching quickly down behind the rocks again, she watched as the men got out and began unloading onto something at the river’s edge. Her view was obscured by both the distance and the unfortunate position of a group of willow trees. What are they doing?
Suddenly a second engine roared to life and a speedboat pulled away from under the trees and raced down the river towards the coast.
Well, you had that all planned out, didn’t you Alex, she thought standing up and stretching. Right, I’d better work out where I am.
She turned around and started laughing. Of course. There on the hill behind her loomed Knox Manor.
Chapter 35
DI Marks and Max Cooper sat across from Peter Jones in the drawing room. Two plain clothes officers stood at attention behind him.
“So you’re telling me that even though you knew that as a firm we were working with Scotland Yard to follow up the leads on the missing art, you went behind my back to warn Knox?” Max was rapidly losing patience. They had been questioning Peter for half an hour and he was no closer to understanding why his trusted business partner had betrayed him.
“It’s not that simple, Max,” Peter began.
“I can manage complex,” Max said through gritted teeth.
“We have many clients who have a penchant for exclusive art works, Max,” Peter said.
“And so you thought that you would do a little side deal. What did you stand to make?” asked Max.
“No comment,” Peter said quietly.
DI Marks put his hand on Max’s arm, quietening him. “And the name of this client is?” He asked.
“Sorry, no can do. Attorney client privilege,” Peter said sitting back.
“We’ll see about that,” DI Marks replied.
* * *
The boys were still reeling from the macabre discovery, when a message was radioed from the house.
The girl has just turned up.
James and Andy looked at one another and raced along the tunnel and bolted up the stairs, arriving in the study at the same moment that Max walked into the room, with Stephanie leaning heavily on him.
She was a mess. Her hair was matted with blood on one side where she had a nasty gash on her temple. One cheek was shiny and bruised and her clothes were dirty
and torn. James gave an involuntary gasp and rushed toward her.
She threw her arms around him.
“Thank God,” James breathed, holding her close. Over his shoulder, she gave Andy a weak smile.
After a few moments, James led her to the sofa, and sat with his arms around her.
The house was a hive of activity, despite the late hour. Grace appeared in the broken doorway of the study carrying a tray of hot drinks, followed by her husband Ken, his arms full of blankets.
She put the tray on the coffee table and taking a blanket from Ken, placed it carefully around Stephanie’s shoulders. “There you are love,” she murmured. James smiled gratefully at her.
“Can we get a paramedic in here?” Max called. He was hovering beside his daughter, stroking her hair, not quite believing that she had just turned up on her own.
“How did you escape? You were in the cellars, weren’t you?” James asked.
Stephanie nodded. “Yeah. I got sick of waiting to be rescued, so I just had to do it myself.” She gave a shaky laugh.
“Was it Alex?” James asked, quietly.
She nodded. “I’m sorry James.”
“God, no. It should be me who is sorry. I should’ve realised that he was capable of something like this,” he replied, holding her gaze.
One of the paramedics, who had been attending to the wounded gunmen, came running. She crouched down in front of Stephanie.
“Do you want me to move?” James asked. Despite her bravado, Stephanie was leaning heavily on him.
“It’s ok. I can work from here,” the woman said quietly.
“Now Stephanie, my name is Carol. Can you tell me where you hurt?” she asked.
“My head and here,” Stephanie said, indicating to her ribs. “And I’m really thirsty. Could I have a glass of water, please?”
“Of course – let me look at your hand first,” Carol said. The flesh across Stephanie’s knuckles was completely scraped away and was oozing blood. Her sleeve rode up as she held out her hands and James noticed the deep cuts that ringed her wrists.
