Dark Lake

by Clare Revell

  He will never forgive me for marrying Mabel. He often tells me that I married beneath me and am, thus, not fit to be his heir.

  If I could find a position elsewhere, leave all this behind, I would do so. But with Frederick perishing on the Titanic and William’s death in a car accident, I am the one remaining son. I have no choice but to stay.

  July 10

  The march in London accomplished nothing. The flooding of Abernay and Finlay will go ahead on the completion of the dam in September. The resulting conflagration will be the Aberfinay Dam and Reservoir. Father is talking about adding the necessary modifications to make it one of the new hydroelectric power stations. This would make him even more money.

  The foggy nights continue. No one can remember weather like this before. On my way home from delivering the Fletcher baby, a girl they called Melissa, I found the body of Frank Phillips. There was no doubt he’d been murdered as the back of his head had been caved in with a sharp object. I alerted the local constabulary, but they do not think they will find the person responsible. Sgt. Johns thinks it was a vagrant, a robbery as Frank’s wallet was missing.

  How many vagrants carry hammers? A simple mugging would have resulted in Frank’s wallet being taken. There is no doubt in my mind this was deliberate, as with the investigation into Frank’s death, the protest against the dam will likely fold.

  ~*~

  Lou glanced up. Rising, she padded across the room and gazed across the foggy courtyard. Lights glowed from the wing opposite. Who could be over there? That part of the manor was usually in darkness. She closed the curtains and reached to grab her sweater from the chair. She tugged it over her head and threaded her arms through the sleeves as she walked back to the bed.

  She climbed in and snagged the covers over her.

  Despite the journal’s many missing pages and sections too faded to read clearly, the account was chilling.

  ~*~

  August 13

  Plague. I had hoped, prayed, I was wrong. Tommy Philips, Frank’s boy, died just before ten o’clock this morning. More cases come by the hour. I am unprepared for such great numbers.

  Food supplies are being left beyond a barrier half a mile away. We have no contact with the outside world at all. Strangely there is no mention of our plight on the wireless. Perhaps they do not wish to alarm anyone. I fear something more sinister is afoot.

  August 20

  I have quarantined all those infected in a building on one side of town. But numbers are rising, and I fear it may be too little too late. I am treating the patients myself, along with Nurse Mount. Not that there is much I can do. I lack the proper medication or facilities. It has been a week since the first case, and the deaths are increasing to a point where the dead outnumber the living. I am dog tired and long to see Mabel but cannot risk infecting her.

  ~*~

  The next few entries were in a different hand, each signed R.M., so Lou surmised they must have been written by Nurse Mount. Each consisted of a list of names and ages, presumably those who had succumbed to the disease.

  Tears tracked down Lou’s cheeks unattended.

  Whole families wiped out, so many children taken by so cruel a disease. It certainly explained the barrier that Professor Cunningham had mentioned.

  Lou made out the words Dr. Close and sick, so he too had succumbed to the plague.

  Strange that Evan never mentioned it. She knew he didn’t die, as Evan had said he remained in Dark Lake and lived in the manor after the village was flooded.

  September 1

  Finally I am well enough to write. It is thanks to Nurse Mount that I am recovering, albeit weaker than I have been for some time. Mabel has also been helping out, though I now fear for her. She looks pale and tired. Over half the village is now sick. CS says it is fortuitous as only those who oppose the construction of the dam and flooding of the villages are sick. He took my illness as proof that I also am opposed, but as the person treating the afflicted, I am at most risk of infection.

  September 5.

  Mother is sick. I have moved her from the manor. Father wanted her to remain there with him, but it is best she does not stay there and infect any more of the servants. Her lady’s maid, two of the parlour maids, and a cook are already sick. One of the gardeners is showing symptoms, so I have moved him to the outer cottage here. That way, if he does turn out to be infected, he will not be putting the lives of his family at risk also.

  September 7

  My father is numbered amongst the sick as are all the servants who remained. The manor lies empty. The servants I was caring for here are dead.

  My mother died early this morning. Father is unaware of this, and I shall not tell him. So much wasted time. So much I wish I could tell her, that now I never can.

  Mabel is yet untouched. I pray she will remain so. I cannot lose her, too.

  September 10

  Father died this morning. This means I now own the house and land and the burden of the dam. I do not want it. If I could revoke the planning permission I would do so, but I fear it would be too late if not impossible. CS is impossible to work with and becoming more and more demanding. He wants access to the manor for some papers of Father’s, but the whole village is sealed, and I will not allow him to enter the building until I have a chance to go through Father’s papers myself. I am no longer sure of what CS is capable of doing. The dam is complete. All that remains is for the flooding to take place once the epidemic is over and the bodies burned, the ashes buried deep in a concrete vault underground.

  September 20

  Finally, it looks as if the plague is over. There are around twenty of us left alive from the original 200 that lived in Abernay. We are exhausted, our eyes sore from shedding tears, faces reddened with grief. I should have been able to save them, but I failed in my duty as a doctor, in my calling, and as a result the village is lost.

  The old rhyme never spoke a truer word. It says for the want of a nail the shoe was lost, the horse was lost, the battle was lost, the kingdom was lost. So for the want of a decent doctor the village was lost.

  September 27

  A fire began almost simultaneously in five parts of the village shortly after seven o’clock tonight. At almost the same time, fog rolled in off the dam and off the mountains, shrouding Abernay and Finlay. With so few of us left, there is little we can do to fight so many fires. It is spreading quickly.

  Mabel thought she heard explosives, but I did not. We are safe here in the manor. We have with us the remaining survivors. As I write this, it is just past midnight. There are only ten of us. The others, we hope, escaped by other means, rather than being caught in the flames. We will not know until morning or until the fires die down.

  Sept 30th

  It’s done.

  24

  As she finished the last entry, a knock at the door made Lou jump. “One minute.” She flung the covers back and padded across to the door. She was stiff and cold and wondered who would want her at this unearthly hour.

  Evan smiled. “Morning.”

  She did a double take, staring at him in confusion. “It is?”

  He nodded. “Half past seven on the dot. You wanted to be at the lake by eight. And when you weren’t at breakfast, I thought I’d come knock you up.” He paused. “I apologize for the wholly inappropriate choice of words there.”

  She grinned. “It’s fine, I know what you mean.” Had she really been reading all night?

  He moved past her into the room and opened the thick, heavy drapes. Sunlight filled the room, the dust shining in the rays. “See, its daylight. You look dreadful.” Concern shone in his blue eyes. “Have you slept at all?”

  “No. I was reading and didn’t realise the time. Have you read the journal at all?”

  “Bits of it. Enough to know my great-grandfather was part of what happened here.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think he was.”

  Evan picked up the journal from the bed and read from the last entry.
“‘My job, my calling, is to save lives, not be responsible for their loss, especially in such appalling circumstances. Maybe it’s fitting I spend the rest of my life caring for the dam here. Caring for the lost, the damned, those I betrayed. The irony is not lost on me.’ And a bit farther on. ‘I just hope someday, maybe in eternity, Father will forgive me this last act. Until that point may God have mercy on my soul and on the souls of those innocents caught up in all this.’”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his spirit in obvious torment over this whole affair. “Over and over he refers to what he did, why he did it.” He put the book down. “All of this,” he indicated the room, the gardens beyond the window, “paid for with blood money.”

  “You should read all of it,” Lou said. As Evan shook his head, she raised an eyebrow. “There are pages missing, and parts too faded to read, but there is enough there to know the truth. He didn’t kill anyone. There was a plague epidemic. He couldn’t save them, Evan. They died because there weren’t medications or the hospital services like there are now. He was a doctor, and he couldn’t save them. That’s why he blamed himself.”

  She studied her hands. She ought to tell him. She had avoided it last night because she wasn’t sure he wasn’t involved somehow. But now, what did she have to lose? “He mentioned hiding a box in the church crypt, didn’t he?”

  Evan nodded, reading the text again. “‘I have written more and sealed it in a watertight box and hidden it in the church crypt. Nowhere else is safe. The reach of CS knows no bounds.’ I’m not sure who CS is.”

  “My guess would be Chester Sparrow,” Lou muttered. “I discovered last night that Varian’s grandfather was the chief man responsible for the building of the dam. He also had a large stake in the hydroelectric company the dam feeds. I’m guessing Varian still does.”

  Evan didn’t seem surprised. “Why did you ask about the box?”

  “We found it yesterday morning.” She dragged it out from under her bed. “It needs a key to open it, besides being rusty.”

  Evan picked it up. “Heavy. Is this what you tried to sneak in under your coat last night?”

  “I wasn’t sneaking it in, but yeah, it was wrapped in my coat. We found it in the church crypt. There is a crest of some kind on one side.”

  Evan set the box on the bed and traced it with his fingertip. “The crest belongs to my family. Did you try opening it?”

  “Even without the key, which I don’t have, it’s rusted shut. I have the tools to force it open, but didn’t want to damage it.”

  “Where would he have put the key?” Evan wondered aloud.

  “I can think of two places. In the crypt with the box or the cottage they lived in. But that is now in ruins.”

  “There is one other place.” Evan glanced up at her. “When I was a kid, before he died, Grandad told me about a cave that meant a lot to his parents. We drove up there once, but a rock fall had sealed it.”

  “Can you take me up there and show me? Perhaps there’s a way in or the rocks might have shifted as a result of all the tremors.”

  Evan nodded. “Sure. Once you’ve checked the base of the dam.”

  Lou smiled. “I hadn’t forgotten. I also want to go over the inside of the crypt one last time before Varian makes good on this threat to blow up the church.”

  “I’ll put this in the safe.”

  Lou took the box from him. “It stays here.”

  “It belongs to me.”

  “Right now it’s part of the dig,” she pressed. “Therefore it’s mine. Once we’ve opened it, documented its contents, and photographed it both inside and out…”

  “…then Varian will know what it says,” Evan interrupted. Fear roughened his voice, clouding his gaze. “That isn’t a good idea. He still owns the company that runs the dam. Chances are, he’s behind all of this, as well as the attempt on your—”

  He spun around, shutting his mouth firmly. “Forget I said that.”

  She moved in front of him. “Don’t leave it there. Finish what you were saying.”

  “Varian was behind the attempt on your life in the hotel—”

  “What?” Lou interrupted him, anger bursting from her. As Jim once said, Mount Lou was in full scale eruption. “He did what? How do you know? Are you in on it?”

  “That is the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard.” Evan’s gaze pierced her. “If I wanted you dead, woman, I’d hardly do this, would I?” He pulled her against his firm body and fastened his lips over hers.

  The kiss was sudden, passionate, and breath-taking. It siphoned all the anger from her, leaving her dizzy.

  Not moving from his arms, she gazed up at him. “OK, but that doesn’t answer how you know.”

  “He didn’t deny it when I accused him of it. And he was responsible for the boat blowing up yesterday.”

  “He killed AJ?” Her voice was no more than a whisper, her heart aching, her stomach twisting within her. “I should have been on that boat.”

  “That’s what he was banking on,” Evan said. He guided her back to the bed, sitting her down, and resting beside her. “He wants this lake business covered up and if killing you is the way to do it…”

  “Then why did he send me up here in the first place?” Lou said. She sank into him and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t get it.”

  “He told me it’s so he can control what gets reported and made public.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Finish what you came here for,” Evan said. He held her close, rubbing her arm gently. “Find out the rest of the truth of Dark Lake. Publish it. Show him that you’ll not be scared away.”

  “But what happens to your name and your reputation if I publish?” She raised her head, her eyes glistening. “You may well lose everything.”

  He shook his head. His finger reached out and wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks. “The truth is what matters. Varian killed once to prevent it getting out. He won’t hesitate to do it again. I have to know what other secrets the lake is hiding. And in return, I’ll be totally honest with you as to what I know. But first we need to go and check the dam.”

  The clock chimed. “Give me a minute to change and grab my stuff.”

  Evan nodded. “I’ll see you downstairs. You should eat first.”

  “No time. I’ll eat later. I shouldn’t dive on a full stomach anyway.” She shut the door behind him and glanced around the room.

  Where would be the best place to hide the box? Not under the bed, obviously. Wrapping it in a plastic bag, she shoved it in the black sack containing her dirty laundry. Then she shoved that in her suitcase and hefted it on top of the wardrobe.

  Dressing in her wet suit, she strapped her leg over the top and finished the outfit with tracksuit and trainers.

  Every nerve ending tingled. She was close to finding answers. This was why she did what she did. There was nothing quite like the thrill of it.

  25

  Evan waited for Lou in the hallway. Rather than bother the staff, he swiped the keys from the cupboard and drove the car himself. He wound down the windows, letting the breeze ruffle his hair. “Not too cold are you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Good. I don’t get to drive very often. Or sit in the front. It makes a nice change.”

  A wry smile turned up her lips. “I don’t get to be driven very often.” She pushed back in the seat. “It’s nice to let someone else do it for once.”

  He drove in silence for a minute then cleared his throat. “About last night.”

  “If you mean Professor Cunningham, there is nothing going on between us. There is no reason for you to be jealous whatsoever, because it isn’t as though you and I are going out or anything. A couple of kisses doesn’t commit either of us to anything.”

  Evan glanced sideways at her. A rosy hue covered her high cheek bones, and the intensity of her gaze gave him pause. Somehow the lady was protesting too much. “Hold that thought. That wasn’t what I mean
t.”

  She widened her eyes. “It wasn’t?”

  He swerved into the side of the road and pulled up the handbrake. The indicator ticked as he twisted in his seat to gaze at her. “No.” He swallowed, somehow tearing his gaze from those perfectly, kissable lips to her eyes and found himself drowning once again.

  Lou studied at him. “Then what?”

  “You’ve been up all night. You’ve had no sleep, and you haven’t even begun to grieve or process what happened yesterday. Not to mention skipping breakfast.”

  Her eyes glittered. “Don’t you presume to tell me what I feel or don’t feel. And as for skipping breakfast, you’re the one who rushed me out the door. Plus I won’t dive on a full stomach as it’s asking for trouble.” She sucked in a deep breath, fingers digging into her palms. “AJ’s dead. Nothing will change that. I want to know why. The answer is in that lake. And I won’t rest until I find it.”

  Evan nodded. “OK. By the way, I got your e-mail. Good on you for quitting.” He checked over his shoulder and swung back onto the road.

  “The worm turned,” she said dryly. “What time is Monty getting here?”

  “Varian said lunchtime.”

  “That doesn’t give me long. They’ll cover all this up. The bodies, explosions, AJ.” She paused. “Can you find out if there is anyone missing from the village?”

  “Why?” He veered off the main road, taking the road to the dam.

  “There was a fresh body down there yesterday. And before you ask, he wore modern clothing and there was no decomposition.”

  He clicked his fingers. “Jasper is missing one of his divers. Did you get pictures?”

  “Yes. I gave copies to the police, but I still have the originals.”

  Evan swung into a parking space and switched off the engine. “Show me.”

  Lou pulled up the screen on the camera. “Here.”

  Evan scrolled through the shots, his stomach turning, threatening to eject the coffee he’d downed before leaving. “That’s Daniel Davies. He used to own a demolition company before the recession.” He handed back the camera, eyes burning. “He was a friend.”