A Hole in the Ground

by Andrew Garve

  “I can’t believe it.” Julie voice had sunk to a whisper. “And yet …”

  “What, honey?”

  “I remember now that when I got home from Dorset Laurence had a terrific bruise on his head and he’d smashed his watch. He said he’d run into a door, but he looked as though he’d been in a fight.”

  Ben nodded gravely.

  “But it doesn’t make sense. Laurence isn’t like that—he’s always hated any sort of personal violence. He’d be the last person to kill anyone. And why should he kill Anstey? Good heavens, he didn’t know him—Anstey was just a casual acquaintance, someone he’d just met.”

  Ben shook his head. “You don’t know how well he knew him, Julie. It’s clear he’s been holding out on you for a long while—look at those other times when he was off on some secret business. He may have had dealings with Anstey you never heard of …” He broke off. “Honey, I’m sorry, about this, honest I am. God knows I’m not trying to make a case—I think it’s been made for us. And I think that inspector guy was on to it, too. They don’t put detectives on straightforward accident cases—not with us, they don’t, any way.”

  Julie was hardly listening any more. She was thinking of the distraught apparition in the hall. “If he did kill Anstey,” she said at last, “he must have done it when he was out of his mind and not responsible.”

  “That could well be. If he’s really gone to pieces, he may be homicidal without knowing what he’s doing. Anyway, I guess we ought to let the police know about this visit of his to-night—the sooner he’s found now, the better for everyone.” He saw the reluctance in her eyes and got up and began to pace the floor. “Julie, I hate this, I wish I wasn’t in on it. You’ll be thinking next that I want to get rid. of the guy …”

  “No, no, Ben—don’t say things like that. I know you only want to get everything cleared up, and I do too. It’s just that I can’t bear the idea of his being hunted …”

  “He’s got to be found—he may be dangerous.”

  “He didn’t look dangerous when I saw him—he just looked ill and frightened. Oh, Ben, if only we could find him ourselves!”

  “That would be fine, honey, but where would we start searching? I’m open to suggestions—you know the countryside.”

  “Well, he can’t be far away because he came here on foot. And his hiding place must be something rather special because there are still visitors about in the hills, lots of them, and if he’d been simply lying about in the open he’d have been noticed. anyone who’d seen him would have mentioned him, I’m sure—he’s so unbelievably white and haggard … I can’t imagine how he could have got like that on the fells …”

  She looked up as Ben suddenly clicked his fingers. “What is it—have I said something?”

  “I’ll say you have, and we’ve been pretty slow not to think of it before. The pothole, Julie!—surely that’s the answer? I ought to have realised when you said his face was blanched. Don’t you see, he’s been living underground all this time in the pothole that he and Anstey went looking for, and that’s why no one’s spotted him.”

  “I believe you may be right,” said Julie after a pause. “In that case I don’t see how anyone will ever find him.”

  “He’ll have to come up for food again some time,” said Ben grimly. “Anyway, if he found the place, why shouldn’t we? Julie, are you sure you’ve never heard of a pothole near here—not even a rumour? There could be one, you know. This hill behind the cottage is mountain limestone—I noticed as I came up yesterday. It’s just the place for one.”

  Julie shook her head. “There’s never been a whisper.”

  “Well, I wish I had a clearer recollection about what was on that plan. The shape of the ground might have helped, though I guess the police would have thought of that … He frowned, trying to visualise the scrap of yellow paper.

  “If only I knew the district! There was a sort of hollow and a bumpy slope—could be anywhere, of course. Wait a moment, though, there was one odd thing—I don’t know whether you noticed, it was pretty well washed out, but there seemed to be something sticking up at the entrance. Could have been stone pillars or something like that—rather rare in limestone country.”

  “No, I didn’t notice,” said Julie despondently. “I couldn’t make head or tail of the thing.”

  “They were rather an unusual shape—here, let’s see if I can draw them.” He unscrewed his fountain pen and made a rough sketch on the back of an envelope. “Something like that, I guess.”

  Julie gazed at the sketch, and the look of despondency suddenly vanished. “But, Ben, I do know where those are. They’re what Laurence and I call the Pikes—they’re about half a mile up the track behind the cottage.”

  “Was that the way he was running?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, by heck, I think we’ve got it!”

  “But there isn’t a pothole there. I know every inch of it. Laurence and I often used to go and sit …”

  “Spare me the details, honey! Let’s quit talking and go see for ourselves.”

  “What, now? In the dark?”

  “Why not? We can run the jeep up and turn the headlights on the place. And if we find the hole and decide to go in—well, it’ll be dark inside anyway.”

  She looked at him doubtfully. “All right—anything’s better than just sitting here thinking. I’ll go and dress.”

  “Put some warm things on, and strong shoes. We’ll have to organise this a bit. Have you got a torch?”

  “Yes, it’s not much good, though.”

  “Never mind, it’ll help—I’ve a good one in the jeep. Can I pack up some food?”

  “Ben—you don’t really think we’ll find it?”

  “Sure we’ll find it. You lead me to the place and I’ll do the rest—this is something I know about.”

  His confidence drew a smile from her. “Well, you’ll find all the stuff lying about in the kitchen where Laurence left it. There’s another thermos in the pantry. I won’t be long.”

  “I suppose there wouldn’t be any rope around the joint?”

  “There should be some climbing rope, unless Laurence has taken it. In the barn.”

  “Okay, I’ll look.”

  The next ten minutes were taken up with vigorous preparations. Ben put on water for coffee and hacked some bread into sandwiches and then he groped his way out into the barn. He found the rope at once—a big coil of nylon in almost new condition—and flung it into the back of the jeep. That was a stroke of luck! He tested his torch and searched in the toolbox until he found a spare battery. He was just going in again when Julie joined him with a basket. “Laurence has the rucksack,” she said. “Will this do?”

  “I guess it’ll have to. Everything in?”

  “I think so. I’ve brought the brandy, just in case.”

  “Good for you. Right, let’s go.”

  They climbed into the jeep and a moment later it was roaring up the track, flinging them from side to side as it bumped and bounced over the rough ground. The night was still black, but the headlights were powerful and Ben had no difficulty in keeping to the old ruts. In a matter of seconds, it seemed, they had topped the ridge and begun to drop down into the limestone bowl.

  Julie pointed ahead. “Those are the Pikes.”

  Ben grunted and swung the jeep on to the short turf so that the ground between the stones was floodlit. “We’ll soon know now, anyway.” He jumped out and strode quickly to the granite piles. “Mind your step!” he called back. “The hole must be open if he’s down there.” He reconnoitred the stones, walking between them and around them, flashing his torch on the scree. Then he stopped and looked at Julie in chagrin. “Hell, I guess I was wrong at that—there’s nothing here.” He stared at the Pikes. “I could have sworn this was the place, though—look at the shape of those things, they’re unique.”

  He gave a disgruntled kick at the loose scree. Then suddenly he was down on his knees, examining it. It wasn’t loose
! His exploring fingers closed on a small stone that didn’t move, and another. “Hey, Julie, come and hold my torch, will you?” he called. “There’s something mighty queer here …” She knelt down beside him, flashing the light so that he could see into the crevices between the stones.

  “Good lord!” he muttered. He grasped two of the stones and heaved, and in a moment a square yard of scree had lifted and come away in one piece.

  “Well, what do you know!” he exclaimed, gazing down into the hole and then at the square of scree-covered wood. “That guy of yours sure is thorough!” The outer surface of the trap had been cemented over and stones cunningly sunk into the cement so that the surface, to the casual eye if not to the moody foot, was indistinguishable from its surroundings. It was a door that could be replaced from within.

  Julie crouched beside the hole, fascinated but scarcely believing. It was only the day before that she had been reclining almost on this very spot.

  “What a frightful looking place!” she said.

  Ben was shining his torch right down into it. “I can see the bottom. Maybe it won’t seem so bad inside.” He spoke without much conviction. “Look, Julie, why don’t you go back to the cottage and wait there? You can’t hang about up here, it’s too cold, and there’s not a bit of point in your coming down with me. I’ll find him and bring him back.”

  Julie was still staring into the hole as though hypnotised.

  “You really think he can be down there?”

  “I haven’t a doubt of it.”

  “Then I’d better come.”

  “I don’t think you’ll like it, you know.”

  “I’ll be frightened to death if you go in alone. I’m sure it’ll be much safer with two. I’ll be all right, Ben. I’ll come in just a little way and see what it’s like.”

  “Well, for Pete’s sake, be careful.” He turned and slid his legs over the edge. “Got the food there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take it. Shove the rope in the basket. It’s not much of a drop here—I’ll be able to help you down.” He hooked the basket under his arm, wedged his feet and back against the sides of the hole, and gradually manaeuvred himself to the bottom. “Okay, you can come now.” He could just reach her ankles as she lowered herself over the edge and a moment later she was standing beside him.

  “Well, that was straightforward enough,” he said. He flashed his torch into the low passage that led out of the bottom of the hole. “Hello—someone’s left something.” The beam had picked out a bundle of clothes.

  “Laurence’s!” said Julie. “They’re what he was wearing!” All her fears for his mental state came rushing back as she pictured him roaming half-naked in the bowels of the earth.

  “At least we know we’ve come to the right place,” said Ben grimly. He peered into the passage, studying the slope and wishing again that he could remember the details of the plan. “It’s going to be a tough crawl, baby. Think you can manage it?”

  “Of course I can,” she said without hesitation. “I’m perfectly all right, you really needn’t worry about me.”

  Her tone reassured him. “Here goes, then.” He thrust his head into the passage and. began scrabbling his way down the slope, pushing the basket ahead and turning from time to time to make sure that Julie was close behind him. Very soon his torch picked out Anstey’s pitons, and he came to a stop. “There’s a ladder fixed here,” he called back. “There must be a drop. Wait a minute.” He searched around until he found a loose stone, and tossed it ahead into the darkness. Seconds later, the echoes came reverberating up from the chasm.

  “Sounds pretty deep,” he muttered.

  Julie wriggled up to him. “The ladder looks quite strong.”

  He nodded, testing one of the pitons. “Okay,” he said at last, “I’ll go down and see what it’s like.”

  “I’m coming too, Ben.”

  “Oh, no, you’re not. You know darned well you can’t stand heights.”

  “I won’t think about it. Ben, I must go on, now I know he’s here. I can’t stand the uncertainty any longer. I’m going to find him now if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “It could be, at that.”

  “I’ll be careful. It’s only when I can see I’m high up that I turn giddy. As long as it’s dark I shan’t mind.”

  He put a hand on her arm. “Why, you’re trembling now,” he said.

  “It’s only excitement. Please let’s get it over.”

  Ben sat silent, trying to decide. He could see that she was in a pretty desperate state of mind and would take a lot of Dissuading. The ladder must be all right, since it had supported Quilter’s weight. If their nylon rope proved long enough he hadn’t any doubt that he could get her down safely. He didn’t much fancy the idea of her going ahead, but the complete absence of light below suggested that Quilter had moved farther down the pothole, so there was no danger that she would have to deal with him on her own.

  He uncoiled the rope, tied a stone to one end, and lowered it over the edge. The hole didn’t seem to be so frightfully deep—when the stone touched, he had still twenty feet of rope in hand. That should be plenty. He hauled up again.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll have to rope you up, though—you’ll feel more secure and if anything did happen I’d be able to bold you. Let’s see if we can get it round you.”

  Every movement was difficult in the confined space, but at last he succeeded in tying a bowline under her arms and belaying the other end of the rope round one of Anstey’s pitons. He stuffed her torch into the pocket of the windcheater she was wearing.

  “Right—over you go,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as matter-of-fact as possible. “Keep your feet on the rungs and your mind on the job. When you get to the bottom, untie the rope and wave your torch. I’ll draw up and let the basket down and then I’ll be with you.”

  Julie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She squeezed past him, turned on to her stomach and groped for the nearest rung. The gentle pressure of the rope under her arms gave her confidence. She must feel her way down, she told herself, and not think. She tried the rung, testing her weight on it It didn’t feel nearly as rigid as an ordinary ladder, but she would have to get used to that. She took one last look at Ben, who was lying well back in the passage with the rope looped round him and his feet braced against the rock wall. As always, he looked reassuringly solid. Then she dropped below the edge. Everything was black as pitch around her; for she needed both hands for the descent. She moved very slowly, making sure of her footing, concentrating on the ladder. Soon she got into a sort of rhythm—right toe down, a scraping movement to get a foothold, a shift of the foot to get the metal rung firmly under the instep, then hands down to the next rung, and finally the other foot.

  Suddenly her toe scraped in vain, as she reached the place where the side of the chasm jutted out and the wire ladder hugged the rock. She could feel nothing at all below her—it was just as though there were no more rungs. As her toe scrabbled against the rock, the violence of her movement set the ladder swaying. At once she was conscious of the black emptiness below her, and of her own inadequacy. She would never make it! A cry broke from her.

  Distantly she heard Ben’s shout. “Are you all right?”

  “I—I don’t know. Oh, Ben—Ben!” Her head had begun to swim—she knew she was going. She felt her fingers slip ping from the rung. She gave a great shriek and swayed, away from the ladder, clawing at the bulging rock.

  Ben felt the jerk of the rope against the steel bar and took the sudden strain. “Julie!” he shouted. “Julie, can you hear me?” He jammed himself tighter in the passage and managed to take a turn of the rope round the second piton, though in doing so he had to let it out a few feet. That felt more secure—she should be safe enough now, if only she could help herself. “Julie!” he yelled again, but got no reply. She must have passed out. There was no hope that he could pull her up, not from this cramped position. He’d have to lower her—she
’d come round at the bottom.

  Suddenly the strain went off the rope, and for a fearful moment that stayed for ever in his mind he thought that his knot had given way. Then, faintly, from far below, he heard her call. “I’m all right, Ben. I’m better now. I’ve found the ladder.”

  “Okay,” he shouted, and sweat poured into his eyes. “Take it easy.” Slowly he paid out the rope. He could hear nothing now from the depths. The coil at his feet was getting rapidly smaller. Only a few more feet of it! With horror he realised that he’d miscalculated—the place where the stone had stopped couldn’t have been the bottom, it must have been a ledge! God, this was frightful! He held on now, not daring to let out any more. He felt the tug as she tried to descend. It was no use—she’d have to come up again. But there was no way that he could tell her.

  Then the rope went slack once more. He pulled, but there was no weight on it. He couldn’t imagine what had happened. He wriggled to the edge and looked out but could see no fight. In desperation he was just going to start the descent himself when he saw the tiny gleam of Julie’s torch.

  That solved all problems for the moment. In a short time he had lowered the basket and was on his way down. The bulge in the rock gave him a bit of trouble but he was too concerned for Julie to worry about it and was soon past the worst. The light of her torch was just beneath him now, and in a matter of seconds he was beside her.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Only a bit scratched.” Her voice was shaky. “I’m sorry, Ben—I nearly fainted and I couldn’t hold on.”

  “I was a goddam fool to let you come,” he said savagely. “Was the rope long enough? What happened?”