The sound of the spring was tantalizingly close. He could really do with a drink. Instantly his thirst raged and he cursed himself for thinking of water, so close and yet so utterly out of reach. He couldn’t think of anything but the splash and gurgle of the stream. It sounded almost human ...
He raised his head, listening intently. It wasn’t the spring! Very faintly and from far away came the distant sounds of muffled voices. He couldn’t make out the words but thought he heard his name. He tried to call back but his voice cracked dismally.
Rescuers were digging their way through the blocked entrance. They’d have all the men from the estate going full tilt, trying to break through. He took another look behind him. Although the men didn’t know it, they were in a race with that streak of red advancing up the wooden beam.
He didn’t think they’d make it.
It was bloody ironic, to have them within calling distance and not be able to call; to have the spring so close and not be able to drink.
His eyes narrowed. There was a fleeting light on the water. He gazed at the stream, seeing the slanting light catch the dark ripples. What on earth?
Torchlight! It had to be torchlight! There was someone coming along the passage from the well!
Hope rushed through him in a tidal wave. He raised himself on his elbows, steadied himself and, with a huge effort, called out. His voice came out as a rusty croak, but it got a response.
The light steadied. ‘Haldean? Is that you, Haldean?’
It was Frank Leigh. Frank Leigh, thought Jack with a jolt of fear, had talked about murder with Mary Hawker. Was that why Leigh had followed him into the cave? He desperately tried to move, but he was completely helpless.
There was a slushing sound from the spring as rocks and pebbles were disturbed, then, torch in hand, Frank Leigh emerged into the cave.
Jack blinked, shying away from the dazzling light in his hand. Frank Leigh dropped to his knees beside him, his breath coming in great gulps. The torchlight showed Wood, slumped against the wall. Leigh reached and touched Wood’s face, then dropped his head in relief as he felt the warmth of life on his skin.
‘Are you all right?’
Jack couldn’t answer. Frank Leigh stood up, shining the torch along the heap of rubble and wood. ‘I see what the trouble is. Hold on. I think I can shift it.’
Leigh stripped off his sodden coat and, wrapping it round his hands, took one end of the beam and heaved.
The beam, weakened by the fire, splintered into two, and Jack felt the pressure on his back lighten. He reached out his hands and Frank Leigh took him under the shoulders and pulled. Jack felt himself move and, with the new freedom, dug his foot into the earth behind, adding his strength to Leigh’s. Frank Leigh heaved again and this time Jack was able to scramble free.
Jack crawled to the stream and plunged his face into the icy water, taking great gulps of the shallow water. It was, perhaps, one of the very best moments of his life.
He didn’t want to move, but Frank Leigh slipped his arms under his shoulders again. ‘Come on. Let me get you across the spring. We’ll be safe on the other side.’
With Leigh’s help, Jack stumbled through the water and collapsed against the rocky wall. Beside him, Frank Leigh knelt beside the unconscious Wood, wiping his face with a handkerchief he wrung out in the stream. Wood groaned briefly, then relapsed into unconsciousness.
‘He’s taken quite a battering,’ Leigh said. ‘Thank God he’s still alive.’
He stood up and shone the torch round the cave, face contorting as he saw the mound of mud, earth and fallen timbers blocking the entrance.
He laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘You got him out of that?’ Jack nodded. Frank Leigh’s hand tightened briefly on his shoulder. He felt in his pocket and brought out a hip flask, helping Jack to drink.
‘We’re safe now,’ said Leigh. ‘My men are digging their way in and the fire brigade is on its way. All we can do is wait.’
Jack felt the brandy sting his throat, then utter exhaustion claimed him and he fell asleep.
He awoke as a light shone in his face. A fireman was kneeling by him, shaking his shoulder. ‘Come on, son, let’s get you out of here.’ He helped him stand up. ‘Easy does it. Nothing broken? Good lad.’
The men had cleared a hole through the rubble at the entrance. Dimly, he heard the sound of a ragged cheer as he was helped through the rubble. It was wonderful to see their faces and hear their kindly, concerned voices as he crawled through the passage, stood upright and walked out into the open once more. It was daylight outside, the strong early morning sun blinding against the marble white of the temple.
Isabelle, her face drawn with anxiety, ran to him and buried her face into his shoulder. ‘Jack! Thank God you’re safe.’
He was so tired he could hardly stand.
‘Leave him to us, miss,’ said a fireman beside him. ‘He needs to get to bed and see a doctor too, I shouldn’t wonder. He’ll be all right now.’
‘Mr Leigh,’ Jack managed to say. ‘He saved us. Wood and me.’ He couldn’t think why, exactly, but it seemed very important that Isabelle should know what Frank Leigh had done. ‘Leigh saved us. Good man.’
‘Don’t you worry, sir,’ said the fireman comfortingly. ‘He’ll get the credit he’s due. Let’s get you back to the house.’
He had a hazy, chopped-up vision of sunlit lawns, the oak hall and staircase of the house and then, without knowing quite how he got there, there was the coolness of linen sheets next to his skin and he slept.
It was eleven o’clock in the morning. Jack, after a long sleep and a very welcome late breakfast served on a tray in bed, was submitting, with strained patience, to Doctor Sutton’s ministrations.
‘Hmm. There’s some bruising on your back ...’
‘You’re telling me!’ said Jack with feeling, as the doctor’s firm fingers explored the small of his back. ‘Easy with that rib! I had half of Sussex fall on top of it.’
‘It didn’t do you any lasting harm,’ said the doctor with a grin. ‘You’ve got a good few cuts, bumps and grazes, but all in all, you’ll live. Here, let me help you sit up.’
‘How’s Wood?’ asked Jack, once he was propped up against the pillows.
‘Well, like you, he’ll be a bit stiff and sore for a few days, but there’s nothing that won’t cure. From what I’ve heard, it was lucky for him that you got to him in time.’
‘And lucky for both of us that Mr Leigh arrived when he did.’
‘Exactly,’ said Doctor Sutton, fastening up his bag. ‘I’ll leave you to your visitors, Major Haldean. You’ve got some people who are very anxious to see you.’
He opened the door and ushered in Isabelle and, unexpectedly, Superintendent Edward Ashley.
‘My word, Haldean,’ said Ashley, ‘you look a great deal better than I expected, after hearing what Mrs Stanton had to say on the telephone.’
He brought the fireside chairs over to the bed for himself and Isabelle. ‘We got the report of the fire first thing. As soon as I heard what it was and where it was, I was prepared to bet my pension you’d be involved in it somehow. Then, of course, Mrs Stanton rang and told me what had happened. No sooner had I put the telephone down from you, Mrs Stanton, I had a note to call on Mrs Leigh double quick and pronto, as her sapphires had been stolen.’
‘And have you seen her?’
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know if the jewels have been stolen or not. That chap Duggleby seems convinced they’re fake but what the truth of the matter is, is more than I can tell, so I’ve called in some help. There’s a jeweller in Lewes, a chap called Bloomenfield, who’s helped me out a couple of times before. He owned a shop in Hatton Garden before he retired. I’ve sent him a wire and he’s promised to call in and give us his expert opinion.’
‘Well, that should clear that up, anyway,’ said Jack.
‘Only if the jewels are real. If they’ve been stolen, how the dickens was it done? Mrs Leigh loo
ked at them when they arrived from the jewellers yesterday, then locked them away securely in the safe.’
‘If it’s the safe in the study, it’s been bust before.’
‘True. If they have been stolen, the thief has to be someone in the house. With the sole exception of Mrs Hawker, everyone who was here yesterday is still on the premises, and even she’s expected to call later on, so Mrs Leigh’s agreed to sit it out until Mr Bloomenfield’s had his say. She’s not happy, though.’
‘Does Mr Leigh know about this jeweller chappie coming?’
Ashley shook his head. ‘Not from me, he doesn’t. They’re not his sapphires. And, after hearing what Mrs Stanton had to say, I’m a bit leery of Mr Leigh.’
‘I told Mr Ashley about the séance,’ said Isabelle. ‘And what I heard Mr Leigh and Mrs Hawker say in the gallery. I can’t understand it.’ She shuddered. ‘I can’t tell you how creepy the séance was, Mr Ashley.’
‘It seems very odd altogether,’ said Ashley. ‘I’ve been asking around and there’s no end of stories about Breagan Stump.’ He scratched his chin distractedly. ‘The local lads – and you’d say they were ordinary, sensible police officers who’d laugh at the idea of ghosts and suchlike – said to a man they wouldn’t spend a night in Breagan Stump, not if you offered them a hundred pounds.’
‘I just don’t know,’ said Jack. ‘If it was a trick, it’s hard to see what anyone would get out of it.’
‘Come on, Jack,’ said Isabelle. She glanced behind her to see that the bedroom door was firmly shut. ‘After what I heard Mrs Hawker and Mr Leigh say? Mrs Hawker was out to get you and Wood as well.’
‘In that case, why did Mr Leigh turn up when he did? He saved my life and Wood’s, Belle. There’s no two ways about that.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t get the wrong end of the stick, Mrs Stanton?’ suggested Ashley.
Isabelle shook her head. ‘I don’t see how I could’ve done.’
Ashley sucked his cheeks in thoughtfully. ‘Who suggested the séance? Mrs Hawker?’
‘As a matter of fact, it wasn’t,’ said Isabelle. ‘It was Celia, who you’d think would be the last person to suggest holding a séance.’
‘Why did she do it, then?’
‘I honestly thought it was because she’s been making sheep’s eyes at Leonard Duggleby.’ She grinned. ‘I suppose she’s a bit too old for Postman’s Knock, but it’s much the same idea, isn’t it? Duggleby’s the resident expert on that beastly cave and everything in it and Celia wanted to call up the spirits of the cave. She couldn’t give tuppence about the cave before Duggleby came along.’
Ashley raised his eyebrows. ‘Leonard Duggleby? He’s an odd sort for a lady like Miss Leigh to take a fancy to.’
Isabelle shook her head. ‘Jack couldn’t see it either, but he is attractive.’ Jack and Ashley swapped baffled glances. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll come to anything,’ she added. ‘Anyway, that’s all by the way. Celia suggested the séance but Mrs Hawker was very quick to back her up.’
‘Nobody really objected, Belle,’ said Jack. ‘Mr Leigh had to be cajoled, but he took part. The thing is, Ashley, Celia Leigh could easily have the idea of a séance suggested to her and believe it was her own idea. But as regards Mr Leigh, I’ll say it again. If it wasn’t for him, both Wood and I would be goners by now.’
‘He was desperate when he realised that Wood was stuck in the cave,’ agreed Isabelle. ‘When he found out what you’d done, he was determined to follow you in case you needed help.’
‘Thank God he did,’ said Jack fervently. ‘I was pinned down like a butterfly on a card. Like an idiot, I blundered into the prop holding up the roof and brought it all tumbling down ...’ He stopped and Isabelle saw his face change.
‘Jack? What is it?’ she said urgently. ‘You look awful. Shall I get the doctor?’
He waved her silent. ‘No, it’s not that.’ He struggled further upright in the bed. ‘Oh, my God, Belle, I’ve just remembered why I blundered into the prop. I yelled my head off and jumped six feet. There was a body, a body in the grave.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Ashley. ‘Which grave?’
‘One of the graves that had human sacrifices in them.’
‘Human sacrifices?’ repeated Ashley in a stunned voice. His eyebrows crawled upwards. ‘I beg your pardon? What’s been going on?’
‘Nothing recently,’ said Jack with a laugh. Ashley looked so completely at sea he couldn’t help it. ‘That ghastly god had human sacrifices made to it and a Victorian vicar, who excavated the caves, found the poor beggars in shallow graves in the cave and re-buried them in the churchyard. He marked where they’d been with wooden covers. The wood must’ve been affected by the fire, because when I knelt on one, it crumbled underneath me. There was a body in the grave. It gave me no end of a fright, I can tell you.’
‘But this is incredible,’ said Ashley. ‘Are you sure it was a body?’
Jack nodded. ‘It was a body, certainly, but, what with one thing and another, such as having the ruddy roof cave on me, I couldn’t make what you might call a thoughtful or prolonged examination of the evidence. I was rather more concerned with my own affairs at that point – and for some considerable time afterwards.’
‘I’d better get onto this right away,’ said Ashley. ‘By the stars, Haldean, you don’t half live. It’s just one thing after another. Inspector Rackham’s on his way. I’m going to meet him off the quarter-to-two train. If you’re going to turn up unexpected bodies, it’s probably just as well.’
‘Why’s Bill coming?’ asked Jack.
‘I’m not sure. He didn’t want to go into details on the telephone, but it’s something to do with Wood.’
‘I wonder what?’ asked Isabelle. ‘There’s something very odd about Wood. He doesn’t act like a private detective.’
‘You’ve got so much experience of private detectives, of course,’ murmured Jack.
‘Well, he doesn’t. He acts as if he was one of the house party, not as if he was an employee at all.’
‘How d’you mean, Mrs Stanton?’ asked Ashley. ‘You mean he acts as if he owns the place, perhaps? A bit cocky?’
‘No, it’s not like that at all.’ Isabelle shook her head in irritation. ‘He just fits in.’ She sighed and looked at Jack for support. ‘You know what I mean, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do. He told me he wouldn’t have done this sort of job before the war. Maybe it’s that.’
‘Maybe,’ said Isabelle, twisting the silk of the bedspread between her fingers. ‘I thought Mr Wood might be Terence Napier in disguise, but you don’t think that’s on the cards, do you, Jack?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘I can’t see that’s possible,’ said Ashley. ‘Dr and Mrs Mountford spoke to him at some length in Topfordham. Mrs Mountford told us all about it. She’s a noticing sort of woman and the doctor’s nobody’s fool. They’d have recognised him, even if he was in disguise.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I wish I knew what the devil was going on. Your escapades in the cave have taken centre-stage, Haldean, but now there’s a body to think about as well as those ruddy jewels. What I can’t make out is this danger you’re meant to be up against. Going off what Mrs Stanton overheard, it sounds as if Mrs Hawker’s gunning for you, but why? What have you done to her?’
‘It’s because Jack’s a danger to Mr Leigh,’ said Isabelle promptly. ‘She said Mr Leigh had committed a murder and she’s scared Jack’ll find out about it.’ She coloured slightly. ‘I know I was eavesdropping, but there was no denying how Mrs Hawker feels about Frank Leigh. She’s desperate he doesn’t come to harm.’
‘In one way it seems to have worked out,’ said Jack. ‘Cue the séance, Wood goes off to spend the night in the cave, and the rest we know. Only we don’t know, because Mr Leigh came to the rescue. If he’d wanted to kill me, it would have been easy enough to knock me on the head and let nature take its course. I couldn’t have stopped him and Wood was unconscious. He’ll never have a better ch
ance.’
‘I’m blessed if I know what to make of it,’ said Ashley. ‘However, the fact you’ve found a body, Haldean, makes the idea of murder that much more credible. Did he actually say, I’ve committed a murder, Mrs Stanton?’
‘More or less. Mrs Hawker said words to the effect of, this is murder we’re talking about. I don’t blame you, but this is murder, and he sort of gulped at her and said he didn’t know she knew.’
Ashley shook his head, bewildered. ‘None of it makes sense. There’s one thing for sure though, we need to find that body in the cave. That’s solid evidence. Then, if Mrs Hawker knows so much about murder, maybe she can give us an explanation.’
‘I’ll get up,’ said Jack. ‘I can’t imagine what the cave’s like after the fire, but I can show you where I found the body.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Ashley. ‘I don’t want you suffering a relapse.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Jack, which was near enough the truth for his conscience not to be troubled. ‘Besides that, I want to be up and doing when Bill Rackham arrives.’
FOURTEEN
The path up to the temple had been carpeted with lush green moss. Now it was rutted with churned-up ridges of mud and innumerable scars of boots, all bearing witness to the frantic struggles of the night before. The smell of damp, fire-ravaged timber hit them in a dismal wave as they went through the cedarwood door in the temple.
‘I see this part of the cave is more or less untouched,’ said Jack, as they splashed past the carving of Euthius weeping his tears into the stream. ‘I couldn’t see a thing last night, the smoke was so thick.’ He shone his torch at the carvings of dendrophori. ‘There’s a fair old bit of soot, but that should clean off.’
There were lights and voices up ahead. Four men, gardeners from the estate, armed with spades, picks, buckets and a wheelbarrow, were clearing the rubble from the entrance.
Blood From a Stone Page 21
