“Whenever you feel like cooking it,” Alicia retorted, and walked out the door. Yes, life would be easier if they had live-in staff, but she preferred her privacy, even if it meant she had to do everything herself.
The garden may have been large and bordering on neglected, but it soon became apparent that Will was not in it. Alicia searched the shrubbery at the front, where Will had built a den, and then at the back, where he had his tree house. Lexi trailed behind, muttering darkly, huddled into her black hooded coat like a petulant Death Eater. Finally losing patience, Alicia sent her up into the tree house.
“He’s not here,” Lexi announced from the top of the ladder. “This is such a waste of time. You know, I’m supposed to be having the afternoon off. Autumn’s gone to the cinema. Why don’t we ever go to the cinema?”
Alicia was only half-listening. “Where can he be? We’ve searched everywhere?”
Lexi pointed over the hedge to the churchyard. “How about in there?”
“He’s not allowed to go over there on his own.”
“Whatever. Can I go inside now?”
“No,” said Alicia grimly. “I’m going to search the graveyard and you’re coming with me.”
So she trekked all the way down the drive, along the road and through the lych-gate into the churchyard - where she found Lexi already waiting for her, having apparently forced her way through a gap in the hedge. Alicia decided to let it pass.
“There aren’t that many places to hide,” Lexi said, looking around. “It’s nothing but gravestones.”
“Think like a ten-year-old. We’ll start by the road and work our way towards the castle. If we’ve not found him by then, I’m calling the police.”
The graves were mostly Victorian. Many were less than waist height, although they were still wide enough for a smallish child to hide behind. Away from the main path the graveyard was very overgrown, with long yellow grass and brambles hiding the smaller monuments, making them easy to stumble over. As Alicia and Lexi passed the church, which was thankfully kept locked, the hiding places grew fewer. Alicia felt almost sick with panic. How could Will have vanished like this?
Lexi stood still and held up her hand. “I can hear something.”
It had stopped raining. In the distance was the hum of what passed for rush-hour traffic in Calahurst; closer still, the gurgling of rainwater surging through the church guttering.
Alicia pushed back the hood of her coat to hear more clearly and waited. Interminably.
“I can’t hear anything.” She took out her phone. “I’m calling the police. He could have been abducted, anything!”
Lexi was still standing with her head on one side, listening intently. “No, I can definitely hear something … someone shouting … ” She swung around. “It’s coming from the castle.”
Alicia had already begun to dial 999. “It’s probably the workmen Granny hired to sort out the garden,” she said, but when she looked up, Lexi was darting between the gravestones to where the gate to the castle estate had swung open and was crashing into the wall with each gust of wind.
Why hadn’t she noticed it was open?
Alicia thrust her phone back into her pocket and set off after her daughter, but Lexi was already ahead of her, sprinting along the woodland path in the direction of the castle. As Alicia puffed her way to the top of the hill, leaving the graveyard far behind, she also heard the forlorn cries for help and doubled her efforts.
Emerging from the dark avenue of yew trees, Alicia caught her first glimpse of Will. He was sat at this end of the castle lawn, beneath the ruined walls of the chapel folly, with Lexi already beside him trying to calm him down. He had one leg bent awkwardly beneath him and was red-faced and tearful. Had he been climbing the chapel walls and fallen? Had he broken his leg? How long had he been out here on his own, in the rain and the cold?
“He’s fine,” Lexi said, before she could say a word. “He’s not hurt at all.”
“I’m stuck!” wailed Will.
“Stuck?” It took a moment for her to understand.
Will was sitting directly on top of the old well. While one leg was out in front of him, the other had become jammed through the metal grille covering it. His jeans were dirty and torn, where he had impatiently tried to free himself. She could see a nasty scratch on his exposed skin, little beads of blood already staining the denim. Her stomach turned over.
“My foot is stuck,” he repeated patiently, as though they could not understand his predicament. I can’t get it out.”
At least he was calmer now.
She ruffled his hair and gave him a hug. “Oh, Will, we were so worried about you!”
“Why would you even want to stick your foot in there?” asked his sister, distinctly unsympathetic.
“I didn’t do it deliberately. I was standing on it and dropping stones to see how deep it was and my foot slipped and I fell between the bars. And I can’t get my foot back in case my trainer falls off and I lose it forever.”
“Who cares about your stupid trainers? Pull your bloody foot out! I’m soaked through because of you.”
“No!” Will screwed his face up again. “I like my trainers! They’re cool!”
Alicia felt her stress levels rising. “Both of you, calm down, please!”
As they lapsed into indignant silence, she knelt on the grass, rested her hands on the metal gate and peered into the dark cavern beneath.
The well, like the chapel folly and the library, was all that remained of the original medieval castle. It was level with the ground and quite wide - over five feet across. There had once been a winch and pulley system to draw up the water and then, more recently, a pump. Now it was only a hole in the ground, with the metal gate bolted over the top to stop the unwary from falling into it. Although that had not had prevented Will from giving it his best shot. Thankfully it had been strong enough to bear his weight.
“OK,” she said to Will. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to ease your trainer off. You’re going to slowly pull your foot back through the hole and I’ll bring your trainer up separately. Do you understand?”
Her son regarded her anxiously. “I won’t lose my trainer?”
“No, of course not,” said Alicia, mentally crossing her fingers.
“OK, then.” He screwed up his eyes and braced himself, as though she was about to chop something off. “Go for it!”
Alicia slipped off her coat and lay it on the ground to kneel on. She placed one hand through the bars of the gate and gripped the bottom of Will’s trainer. With her other hand she undid his laces and loosened them - just as Will unexpectedly yanked his foot back through the gap and freed himself.
While he ran around the chapel like a mad thing, whooping with delight, totally oblivious to the fate of his precious trainer, she snatched at it with her other hand - and caught it.
Something small, pink and plastic slipped between the bars and disappeared into the darkness.
Alicia shrieked.
“What’s the matter?” asked Lexi.
Alicia could hardly form the words. “Remember how the only accessible copy of my family tree is backed up onto my memory stick? It’s fallen down the well … ”
“Are you sure?” Lexi peered into the darkness. “I can’t see it.”
Will attempted to give her a hug. “I’m sorry, Mum.”
“So you should be,” snapped Lexi. “It’s all your fault.”
“It isn’t!” Will’s face crumpled in distress. “It isn’t, is it Mum?”
“That’s enough!” said Alicia firmly. “I’ve had enough.” Seizing the gate with both hands, she shook it violently. “Bloody, bloody thing!”
The gate had been made from rods of iron, arranged in a grid and welded into a flat metal ring. On one side there was a hinge, on the other a large padlock. The padlock, although rusted, held firm. The iron ring, which had been set into a large stone beneath, moved. Encouraged, Alicia heaved at it again.
There was a m
etallic squeal and the gate flew momentarily out of the ground, before clanging back into position. Alicia stood up and this time was able to swing the gate up and over, letting it slam into the grass. It was extremely heavy. The padlock, the small iron ring and even the lump of stone it had been fixed to, still hung off the side.
“Can you see anything?” asked Lexi, yanking Will back by the collar of his jacket, as he attempted to look down the well.
Alicia shuffled forward until she reached the edge. It was difficult to see very much, as thick green foliage had sprung up between the brickwork, partially blocking the view of the bottom and making it appear even darker than it was. She could see an iron rung set into a stone near the top, and vaguely remembered her father telling her there were others, leading to what had once been the water level - another reason he had installed the gate.
She took her phone from her coat pocket and switched it onto light mode, shining it down into the hole. “I can see the bottom,” she said. “It’s not far - less than thirty feet. There’s no water, just a lot of rubbish and some rocks where the sides have caved in.” She stuck the phone into her jeans pocket and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge.
Lexi dropped Will to catch hold of her. “Tell me you aren’t serious?”
“It’s perfectly safe,” said Alicia. “I can climb down on these rungs.”
“Which are like, medieval!”
“You could tie a rope around your middle,” Will suggested. “The gardeners have some in their shed.”
Now was not the time to ask how he knew what the castle gardeners kept in their shed. “By all means, fetch me some rope.”
Lexi waited until he was out of earshot. “Are you crazy? You’ll never be able to climb down. You’re not the sporty type. Let one of the gardeners do it.”
“Do you see any gardeners?” sighed Alicia. “I’ve not seen a single one since Granny allegedly hired them. Besides, it is unlikely she pays them enough to risk life and limb, climbing down a well, after something anyone else would consider a silly piece of plastic.”
It is a silly piece of plastic!” Lexi produced her own phone and brandished it about. “I’ll phone Dad,” she said. “He won’t let you do it.”
Will chose that moment to return, with a length of rope draped over one shoulder and unravelling rapidly behind him.
Alicia tied one end of the rope around her waist and got Lexi to do likewise around the nearest tree. “Now listen,” she said. “As the rope is not very long, I’ll climb down the well as far as I can, and then untie it. If I fall from that point it won’t be any distance at all so I’ll be fine. If I do have any trouble, or if it looks the slightest bit dangerous, I’m coming right up. Do you understand?”
Will, thoroughly over-excited, hopped from foot to foot. Lexi merely glowered.
Alicia sighed and returned to the edge of the well, lowering one foot and pressing on the uppermost rung to ensure it would take her weight. The rung proved to be surprisingly solid, although black with age. She slid onto her stomach and lowered herself over the side until both feet were firmly positioned on the top rung, then felt though the weeds for the next one. Thankfully the rungs appeared to be set at regular intervals, although each one had a slight slant, presumably from the weight of previous users.
Alicia tried not to think about that.
As she progressed further into the dark, there was the occasional rung which had worked loose but they were set so close together she was able to avoid them.
The further she went, the colder the air. The rungs felt wet, the surrounding walls were moist. She could see each breath forming a little cloud - until she was too far down to see anything at all. She paused to look back up at the circle of light, to reassure herself it was still there.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this!” Lexi’s boiling resentment echoed down the well.
I can’t believe I’m doing it either, thought Alicia, concentrating on each rung, until the circle of light grew smaller and the rope grew tighter, until a painful jerk to her ribcage told her it had reached its limit. Was she there?
She hooked one arm over a rung to steady herself and took out her phone. Instantly she was surrounded by a comforting, if dim, light.
The stone walls were stained darker with each subsequent water mark, as its level had reduced over each decade. No plants grew here; the fallen masonry left large expanses of bare earth and holes where some of the loose soil had cascaded into the well. Alicia began to get the impression that perhaps this hadn’t been such a clever idea after all. The remaining walls could cave in at any moment and the only thing linking her to the surface was a rope she was about to untie and a mobile phone which would never work below ground.
Although she had managed to get this far.
Alicia shone the light towards the bottom of the well. It was about eight feet beneath her - practically jumping distance. There was no water and the ground was uneven, piled with fallen rocks, earth and a multitude of rubbish - mainly drinks cans and faded food packaging. There was even a football.
“I’m almost there!” she called. “Only a few feet further. I’m going to undo the rope.”
Lexi yelled back a response, but it was unintelligible.
Assuming everything at the surface was still all right, Alicia stuck her phone in her mouth and untied the rope, leaving it swinging against the side of the well. It soon transpired there were only two more rungs. She took the phone from her mouth, checked for a likely landing place - and jumped.
She fell awkwardly, landing on a pile of broken rocks and painfully bashing her knee. At least she hadn’t broken her phone. She could only imagine how awful it would be to be left alone down here in the dark. She shone the light around - and there was her memory stick, its bright pink colour making it easy to see on top of the rubbish.
She scooped it up delightedly, making sure that this time it was secure in the depths of her pocket. All this effort for a tiny square of plastic? No wonder Lexi thought she was mad!
Her light caught on the football. Someone had drawn a rudimentary face on it and she couldn’t help smiling, wondering how on earth it had got through the bars of the gate above?
Perhaps Will might like a souvenir? She reached out and the light she held shone directly upon it, shifting the shadows, redefining the outline until she realised it wasn’t a football at all.
It was a human skull.
35
The police had rolled John Grove onto his back to check for signs of life, and then left him where he lay when it was obvious there were none. The balaclava had been pushed up above his face, revealing tufts of white hair now stained dark-red with the blood pooling around him. The top of his head was a complete mess, shattered by the bullet which had killed him, but Natalie was only aware of those pale grey eyes, which seemed to be staring right through her.
About fifteen minutes after her father had been shot, a police transit van had rolled into the car park and cordoned it off, followed by a multitude of other emergency vehicles, which parked along the road above. Soon the car park was full of people in forensic overalls.
To be out of their way, Natalie and Bryn were sitting up in the stairwell. It was open to the elements and, as the sky darkened, the rain began to fall, thudding rhythmically against the stone steps behind them.
“We should get back under cover,” Bryn said, although he didn’t actually move.
Distracted by flashes of light on the other side of the car park, Natalie watched a police officer taking photographs; first of the surrounding area, then gradually moving closer towards her father’s body. Overview, mid-range and close-up, she thought, oddly detached from the scene playing out before her.
Beside her, Bryn shifted uncomfortably. “Why the hell doesn’t someone cover him up?”
“You don’t have to stay,” she told him. “I can tell the police everything they need to know.”
“I don’t think they are going to let us leave.” He indicated
the uniformed officer standing on the stairwell behind them. “We’re witnesses.”
“Shall we try?” she suggested. “Just to see what they do?”
“I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
The rain was now dripping off her hair and down the back of her neck, the icy rivulets finding their way beneath her clothes. Bryn was right, they should move - but she really didn’t want to be any closer to those cold staring eyes than she had to.
She watched a man walk towards them. He wore a dark suit with an unbuttoned trench coat, and delicately picked his way around the patches of oil until he came to the edge of the steps where they sat.
It was Detective Chief Inspector Bloom.
“Miss Grove,” he said, looking up at her. “My condolences.”
She inclined her head, but didn’t trust her voice to speak.
“Someone should take her up to her apartment,” Bryn said. “It’s unfair to keep her hanging around like this, after everything she’s been through.”
“You’re quite right,” said DCI Bloom. “If you’d like to come with me, Miss Grove?”
It was not the answer Bryn wanted to hear. “I’ll take her. It’s no trouble.”
“I’m sure,” said the DCI, “but I need you to make a statement. So if you would honour us with your company for a moment or two longer, I’ll arrange for one of my officers to talk to you.”
Bryn muttered a word, which could have been ‘knob’. It certainly wasn’t Welsh.
“Miss Grove?” said the DCI. “If you’d like to come with me?”
Natalie reluctantly got up from where she was sitting, but before she could make her way down the few steps to the car park, Bryn jumped up and gave her a quick hug.
“I’ll call you later,” he said, “to make sure you’re OK.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, but when she followed the DCI into the elevator she saw him hit the ‘G’ button instead of the one labelled ‘penthouse’.
“OK,” she sighed, “where are we really going?”
He turned his head and regarded her thoughtfully. “I could drive you to the police station and take your statement,” he said. “I could do everything properly, record every word you said - whether you meant to say it or not. Alternatively, I could take you to one of the cafés and we could chat informally. What do you say?”
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