The Carlswick Affair
Page 46
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A farm truck was parked in the entrance to the tunnel. Two men stood leaning against it with their backs to her, smoking and talking in low voices.
It was a clear night, with a full moon which illuminated the landscape. Stephanie knew she had to keep moving and get out of sight. But where, without being seen? The sound of footsteps behind her propelled her forward and she dropped and rolled under the truck. It was cramped, dirty and smelly. Gross.
Alex came limping out of the tunnel.
She held her breath as his feet came to within inches of her face, inadvertently kicking dust into it. She screwed up her eyes, which watered involuntarily. She didn’t dare move to rub them.
“Which way did she go?” he shouted.
“Who?” one of the men asked, pushing himself off the truck.
“The girl,” Alex replied, sounding exasperated.
“Haven’t seen any girls tonight, mate.”
“She can’t have got far. Spread out and search. Quickly,” he hissed, as they hesitated. “We don’t have much time.” He turned and jogged back into the tunnel, the darkness immediately swallowing him.
From her prone position beneath the truck, Stephanie saw the two men slowly walk off in different directions, muttering. She crawled out, keeping the truck between her and the men. Glancing across at the tunnel entrance, afraid that Alex would reappear, she could hardly see it. It had been cleverly disguised to look like part of the hillside.
Unbelievable. Now where to hide?
She quickly made her way to a cluster of rocks and bushes to one side of the tunnel and crouched down behind them, just as the men returned from their somewhat rudimentary search.
“Girl? There’s no girl here. You don’t think he’s losing it, do ya,” one of the men said chuckling. They resumed their positions leaning against the truck.
Stephanie watched as Alex ran back out of the tunnel, a backpack slung across one shoulder and carrying a large art folio.
Her breath caught. I hope that’s not the van Gogh, she thought.
“No sign of her?” he demanded. The waiting men shook their heads. Alex spun around slowly in a complete circle, his eyes scanning the hillside. He swore under his breath. The big guy came puffing out of the tunnel behind him, lugging two heavy suitcases which he lifted onto the flat deck of the truck
“Okay. We are out of time,” Alex said, glancing at his watch. “She won’t get far in the dark.”
Alex and the two men climbed into the truck’s cab and the big guy hoisted himself up on the back. The truck started and they began driving down the rough track towards the river.
From her hiding place, Stephanie felt a wave of relief flood through her and she let out a long shaky breath. Jeez, that was close.
Staying hidden, she watched the truck continue its journey down the hill. Stephanie could just make out the outlines of the hedgerows and stone walls which separated the fields. Very different from the wire and wooden fenced paddocks of New Zealand farms, she thought, suddenly feeling a little homesick. The river wound its way down through the valley.
She shivered in the cool night air and wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to keep warm. Her legs began to cramp painfully. Just as she stood the truck stopped. Crouching quickly down behind the rocks again, she watched as the men got out and began unloading onto something at the river’s edge. Her view was obscured by both the distance and the unfortunate position of a group of willow trees. What are they doing?
Suddenly a second engine roared to life and a speedboat pulled away from under the trees and raced down the river towards the coast.
Well, you had that all planned out, didn’t you, Alex, she thought, standing up and stretching. Right, I’d better work out where I am.
She turned around and started laughing. Of course. There on the hill behind her loomed Knox Manor.