by Ruby Loren
“If these people find it first, we’ll take them down. If you find it, bring it to us,” one of the suits said and she folded her arms at him.
“How will that help Rob? From where I’m standing, the bad guys… if that’s even what they are… are holding all the cards. Who am I more likely to hand this thing over to?” She was just as careful as the note writer had been to not reveal exactly what she knew. With Rob captured while presumably still carrying the artefact, it wouldn’t be long before at least one of the other competing parties knew exactly what was hidden on the edge of the National Park.
The men looked at each other again before a thin smile lifted one of the men’s lips.
“Miss Winter, I think you’ll find we can be very persuasive.”
Holly just shook her head.
“It’s irrelevant really. The other guys have the one you want. It’s Rob who knows all this stuff. I’m just a private detective. That’s hardly a credible source for you to be relying on, right? The police will tell you just how much my input isn’t usually wanted,” she said with her own thin smile. Take that.
In the end, they let her go. Holly wasn’t sure if it was because they believed her when she said she knew nothing, or if they finally figured out she was the useless one of the pair in this case. Holly was dropped off at the hotel by a silent driver and immediately went to check up on Watson, pleased to find him asleep on her bed despite everything. She almost wished he were a little bigger so he could give them all a scare. She smiled at the sleeping puppy. It was silly to wish these days away, he’d never be a puppy again. He was already growing at an alarming rate and she knew she really had to work on some obedience training or suffer the consequences when he was a full grown dog.
She sighed and sat down on the lumpy bed, wondering where Rob was and if he was okay. The men in suits had told her that the note instructed her to find the answer and then find them and she hadn’t a clue how to do either of those things.
“I don’t know what to do, Watson,” she said before lying down on the bed and falling asleep fully clothed.
She woke up the next morning feeling panicky and with a dry mouth. What if someone had found the sample while she’d been asleep? What if it was all over for Rob? She shook herself awake, brushed her teeth, clipped a lead on Watson (grabbing his food on the way out) and raced to her car. Ten minutes later, she was pulling up near the digging field.
As soon as she got out of the car, she knew something was wrong.
The usually silent surroundings were broken by the sound of many shovels digging. Holly wasn’t willing to believe her ears and walked through the thin line of woods that divided the road from the field. She was confronted with an extraordinary sight. Close to a couple of hundred people all digging in the field. She couldn’t tell who was working for who, but there were the usual few amateur archaeologists who were scratching their heads as they tried to figure out what had got everyone so excited. Holly lowered her spade. Unless she got super lucky, she wasn’t going to beat these diggers to the punch. Not when she was guessing the same way they were. Even if she did, by some miracle, dig it up first, with all of these watching eyes someone would see and she wouldn’t have a chance to… she bit her lip. She hadn’t actually thought about what to do with the item if she did find it. She knew that Rob would tell her to go public so that it was impossible for anyone to use the find politically or criminally (not that there was a huge difference between the two). But that would mean giving Rob a death sentence and she knew she couldn’t do that. Holly shook her head and vowed to think of something… right after she’d found the vial of disease.
Holly walked a little way up the hill, past the field. She had a lot to think about. She was going to make the assumption that the people who had taken Rob were the ones who’d flown the drone which had killed the amateur archaeologist, Douglas Patterson. If she figured out who and where they were she’d be able to find Rob and hopefully bring the killers to justice. The note had said she’d be able to figure out how to find them. She snorted. Some of their lackeys were down in the field, weren’t they? She’d found them easy enough, but somehow she suspected they wouldn’t be happy to tell her where they were keeping Rob. She chewed her lip, pausing to look out across the landscape from the side of the hill, her eyes sweeping over the diggers and the hilly fields beyond.
Her mind flashed up a piece of useless information - things were often buried at the top of hills, or mounds. She tilted her head and noted that the diggers were digging in a valley. But then, the same rules didn’t necessarily apply to an ancient but highly advanced society. Who used moonlight to hide secret writing, she silently reminded herself and wondered if they were closer to nature than most people were today.
She sighed, not feeling that she was getting anywhere. She wasn’t an archaeologist. She didn’t really have a clue what she was looking for and doubted she’d be able to gather any knowledge in the next 24 hours that would allow her to magically know the location of the Midastophian relic.
Sunlight flashed off metal and her eyes were drawn to the main car park for the National Park. The car park that all of the people digging had presumably used. She might not be an archaeologist, but she was a detective. It was time to put those skills to the test.
Watson darted around the car park, sniffing cars as Holly did the same, although without any actual sniffing and acting as casual as possible. She was glad she had Watson there as it gave her a good excuse to be prowling around.
Think, Holly! Her eyes were drawn to a couple of vans. One of those would be big enough to hide a drone in, she realised and wandered over, first walking around the front to check that the vans were empty and then doing a complete circle.
The first van had rust spots all over it and had years of dirt accrued. It was the sort of van you might see on any street corner. The second van was trying to look the same but the sophisticated satellite tracking system and plush interior gave it away. Either the owner of this van was a very particular tradesman who loved technology, or she’d just hit the jackpot. She pulled her spy-supply lock picking kit out of her pocket, having learnt a thing or two from YouTube. A minute or so of sweating and fiddling with the lock and it popped open, letting her open the back door of the van.
Her jubilation was short-lived as the vehicle’s alarm blared out, loud and piercing in the quiet country air. Holly swore under her breath and pulled both doors wide, letting the cold sunlight stream into the van and giving her the perfect view of the killer drone. Holly sucked air between her teeth as she took in the sharpened rotating blades and noticed, with a sick feeling, that two of them were stained a rusty red.
The alarm was still screaming out its tune, so Holly grabbed her phone and took a few photos, both of the drone and of the van, before shutting the back doors and legging it with Watson panting happily beside her.
She wasn’t a second too soon. The moment she’d reached the cover of trees two men walked out into the car park and went to inspect the van. Holly was suddenly horribly aware of the fingermarks she’d left in the dirt, but fortunately, one of the men put his hand right where hers had been and pulled open the back before shutting it again with a shrug.
“Guess you’ve got a faulty alarm. We’ll have to get it sorted when we’re back at The Grand. The boss won’t like it,” he said and the other one nodded before they walked back off in the direction of the digging field.
Holly stood up from her crouch and brushed herself free from leaf litter. The Grand… what could that mean? It sounded like a hotel to Holly, but she thought that would be an odd place for a load of criminals to hang out and plan operations. Perhaps she was being prejudiced. Bad people used hotels just as much as the good guys. She shook her head. Good and bad was all down to your perspective anyway.
“That’s a good lead, Watson. We might be able to find Rob after all.” She ruffled the puppy’s ears. “Now, I don’t see any reason why those gentleman should be left to dig in peace, do y
ou?” She said and rang the police. At first, they didn’t want to listen to her but she made them give her an email address and then waited on the phone until they’d seen the pictures and agreed that at the very least, the drone was illegal, if not a murder weapon. Holly hung up with a frosty smile.
She hoped the couple she’d met would get some closure.
If only it was this easy to find the hidden vial! She sighed and started to walk back to her car. She was definitely searching for a needle in a haystack. What if it’s not even here? She thought to herself and worried about that too. Things didn’t always stay buried. Someone could have found what they were searching for a long time ago and since lost it.
She rubbed her temples and got back into the car, deciding to spend the rest of the day reading about burial mounds and other points of interest. She supposed it would probably be a waste of time, but it was equally pointless digging with all those other people around. She planned to return that night when she hoped the flock would have thinned out.
Holly glanced at the weather forecast on her phone and winced. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were the only one crazy enough to do a little midnight digging. It was going to drop well below freezing and there was even snow forecast. At least she no longer had to worry about being decapitated by a deadly drone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Society’s Roots
The night was silent as she walked through the wintery woods. She let Watson off the lead and hoped he’d let her know if any trouble was brewing. She felt rather ridiculous creeping around in the dark carrying a spade. If anyone saw her she was sure they’d automatically assume she was up to no good. Speaking of being up to no good, she smiled a little as she thought back to earlier that evening when she’d received a call from James Patterson letting her know that both van men had been arrested and the drone was currently being examined for evidence. At least one part of this case had been solved.
Unfortunately, she suspected the hard part was still to come. A thought had been nagging her all day. Even if she found the vial and handed it over to the lucky party of her choice, what was going to keep her alive? She’d put herself in the shoes of both and had concluded that things would be much simpler if she and Rob just… disappeared. So far, she hadn’t figured out a way to alter the situation. She snorted. Some detective she was turning out to be.
Holly paused on the edge of what had once been a field. She’d learned from Rob that the farmer didn’t mind it being dug up as he was planning on planting crops there, but it looked like a war had taken place. Huge pits and heaps of earth mottled the area and Holly decided she definitely didn’t want to go walking there in the dark. It was a recipe for a broken ankle and being a popsicle by morning.
Instead, she skirted the field and climbed the fence, looking for something… anything… to inspire her. She’d read a lot about ancient burial rituals earlier that day, but nothing felt relevant. Holly felt dismal as she trailed her spade behind her. She supposed some starting point was better than nothing.
“Come on… think!” She said aloud and tried to remember her last conversation with Rob. He’d said that the tablet read something about the vial being concealed beneath the roots of their society. She’d assumed that meant beneath where they used to live but what if the word ‘roots’ was a clue?
“But no tree would still be alive after 5,000 years,” she muttered, looking around at the wood and hills. There was a yew tree on a small hill in the next field. That afternoon, she’d read about yew trees and their symbolism to ancient societies. They also had one remarkable property - the ability to regenerate. There was actually no reason why a yew tree couldn’t be immortal. Parts would die and perhaps rot back into itself, but the tree could continue to grow with new life springing from the old.
She looked at the tree on the hill. It didn’t look that old, not like the yews in church yards that had been around since Roman times. But what if… what if it had always stood there all the same? Just dying down and coming back?
She took a deep breath and started walking in the direction of the tree crested hill. It was as good a place to start as any.
***
Digging beneath tree roots turned out to not be such a great idea after all. When Holly dug she constantly found her way blocked by roots that seemed as hard as iron and as thick as trunks. Technically, it boded well for her theory about the tree’s longevity, but it was murder to dig through. In the end, Holly tried to go between, rather than through and ended up uncovering a web of roots which led down and down. She was on her stomach now, reaching to scrape dirt away with her hands, all the time thinking about Rob. If anyone saw her now, scratching through soil beneath a tree, they’d probably lock her up.
Holly dug down as deep as she could and then realised she would have to dig around the entire tree in the same fashion if she wanted to do a proper search. She shot a guilty look at the yew. Hopefully it would be resilient enough to survive this indignity.
For once, luck was on her side, or with hindsight, maybe it was out to get her, as Holly was only on her second big dig when her fingers brushed against something smooth - something that wasn’t a tree root. With her heart jumping in her mouth, she gently pulled up what turned out to be a slim metal box, made from the same material as the tablet Watson had dug up. The box seemed not to have a lid but as the bright moonlight caught it and Holly held the box against her skin, remembering what Rob had said about temperature, she felt something change. There was a little click as the lid came open and she silently prayed she hadn’t just let some deadly disease walk free, before she peeked.
The interior of the box was lined with something soft, it felt like down but artificially manufactured. Nestled at the centre of the box was tube made of the same metal as all the other artefacts. She felt her pulse quicken. The tube looked like it could quite feasibly contain a vial of something. Next to the tube was another metal tablet, which Holly slipped into her pocket before gingerly closing the box again.
She sat down on a patch of undisturbed soil at the base of the tree. Watson rushed up to her, covering her in puppy kisses and she absentmindedly stroked him wondering what the hell to do now. Two words echoed in her mind, The Grand… she’d done some research earlier and while there had been a hotel called that, there was also a casino, or rather, what had once been a casino in the local tourist town of Entingbourne. It didn’t look like anything had taken the casino’s place so in theory all that was there was an empty building. It was the perfect place for a bad guy HQ.
She took a deep breath and stood up, clipping Watson’s lead back on. Time to rock and roll.
***
The Grand Casino was a far cry from what its name inferred. The building had a faded, grey veneer of exhaust fumes all over it and four letters were missing from the casino sign. The front door and windows were boarded up, although it hadn’t stopped people from writing graffiti all over the chipboard. Holly felt her heart sink as she took in the total dereliction and the boarded up entrances. It didn’t look like anyone had been here for a long time. Had her hunch been wrong?
She got out her mobile phone and dialled a number she’d never imagined she would. A voice answered and she launched into preparing what she hoped would be a decent backup plan - if this was the right place after all. She sighed silently as she listened to what the other person was saying. One down, one to go. After the call, she tapped out a text message and pressed send. It was as good a plan as it got.
She decided to do a full sweep and walked down the side alley. Two men appeared from a concealed door and she ducked down behind a skip full of rubbish. The men walked past, both pulling out cigarettes and Holly saw her opportunity. She tiptoed across the alley and silently pulled open the still swinging door. It had no handle on the outside, which was probably why the men had left it ajar.
Once inside, the casino surprised her again. There was no smell of damp or decay. Instead, the carpet was a deep, lush red and the walls were pane
lled with wood. It was a crime lord’s den worthy of a James Bond film. Holly spared a moment to wish that she was James Bond and not a small town private detective who’d been sucked too deep into a business that shouldn’t have concerned her.
She shook her head. There was no time for that now. She had to find out all she could and then figure out how to get Rob out in one piece. The more knowledge she had, the more she could bargain with. She walked as silently as she could down the corridors, her heart jumping into her mouth at every corner. It was only when she approached a big set of double doors that she heard voices.
“…Doesn’t look like she’s coming. We’ll have to do things another way. Looks like it’s time to die, Mr Frost,” a voice said and Holly couldn’t bear it any longer. She burst in, holding up the metal box.
“Stop! I’ve got it!” She said, looking around a room full of bemused faces but absent of Rob. She frowned, confused until she saw the bank of televisions which were showing surveillance feeds all over the building. Oh.
“Where is he?” She asked, hoping to bypass a ‘you’re so stupid’ speech. A man walked forward, his lips curving up into a smile. He had oiled dark hair and an Italian or Portugese look to him. When he spoke, his voice came out with a clipped British accent.
“Mr Frost is otherwise engaged at the moment. Now why don’t you hand over what you’ve come to bring us,” the man said. Holly thought about denying it for a second but remembered she’d said she had it when she’d thought they’d been about to kill Rob. What if he’s already dead? Her treacherous mind supplied and she shook it away. She still had a couple of cards left to play.
