It was Annie’s turn to shiver. She stopped. ‘Oh, no! I wouldn’t! I do believe, I do believe, I do believe,’ she called into the wind.
When the detectives reached the main road with Crownest in their sight opposite, Charley couldn’t mistake Annie’s sigh of relief.
‘You okay?’
Annie nodded. ‘Pretty damn surreal this. Working here feels like I’m taking part in a reality show,’ her voice took on a hint of excitement. ‘Have you ever watched any of those Most Haunted programmes on the TV?’
‘Most Haunted?’ Charley shook her head. ‘You mean you actually believe in that sort of rubbish?’
‘Methinks you protest too much!’
Charley stopped to face her.
Annie swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. Had she overstepped the mark? ‘Ma’am,’ she said quietly.
Charley walked on.
‘You mean you’ve never seen any of them?’ Annie hurried to walk at Charley’s side. ‘Frightened myself half to death watching it on a Friday night when I was younger, and the folks were out.’
‘Well, all I can say is that if you like that sort of thing, maybe you’d like to be the one to volunteer to go back and sift through the church records with Lily?’
Annie stopped. Her face paled, ‘On my own?’ Seeing Charley nod her head, she hurried to catch her up.
‘You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?’
Chapter 12
Walking always enabled Charley to think; not as much as when she was horse riding, but it was the next best thing when time was scarce.
‘I’ve decided to link the two investigations on the HOLMES computer system,’ Charley said to Annie over her shoulder.
Annie’s eyes were to the ground as she navigated her way across the grass verge. ‘Can I ask your reasoning?’
Charley held her head high, her focus on the big house. ‘The background information on the Crownest and its occupants is the same.’
Annie’s nod was slight. ‘Makes sense.’
‘The last thing I want to do is waste time by duplicating enquiries.’ Charley fell silent.
‘What’s next then?’ asked Annie.
‘I need to allocate a few from the team to look at the enquiries into the older skeleton; an experienced detective sergeant, plus two others should suffice. The majority of our resources will be required to concentrate on the latest murder victim, in the hope that we will find those responsible alive, to be put before the Court. Let’s not forget, we still have a cold-blooded murderer on the loose.’
At the narrowing of the pathway, Annie stepped back to follow in Charley’s footsteps. There was no doubting her SIO’s determination to solve both enquiries. In order to do so Charley needed to think hard about what she knew of the individuals in her team, their strengths and weaknesses, and who would be best placed in specific roles. Experience would help her to solve the crimes in an efficient fashion.
‘First though, I have to update the Divisional Commander,’ she said. The new Divisional Commander, Bobbie Stokes, was a breath of fresh air in the Division, after his predecessor, the despot Brian Roper, had retired before his disreputable past caught up with him, and he faced getting the sack. When Charley called through to the station, Ruth, Stokes’s secretary, told her that Bobbie was in a meeting, but that she would update him on his return.
Two hours had passed since Charley and Annie had left Crownest to visit Lily Pritchard, and neither of them had heard from Ted and his team, nor Detective Sergeant Mike Blake, whom they’d left behind to monitor the mountain rescue team’s exploration of the tunnel. As she approached the house, Charley wondered if the quickening of her heartbeat was caused by anxiety or by excitement.
At the outer police cordon near the gateway, there were a handful of people taking pictures of the coming and goings. Annie glanced at the uniformed police officer at the gate as the two detectives passed. Neither knew if the photographers were from the press, freelance or other. Not one of them approached the officers, nor did they appear to know the SIO, or she them. It spoke volumes about the reorganisation of the newspaper industry in recent years that the photographers seemed more focused on getting their work used as digital content nowadays, rather than on the printed page. The local paper, the Chronicle was no different, switching as it had to a weekly publication. Journalists that Charley had known for years, including those who had supported her through the incident with Danny Ray, had either jumped ship shortly after the switch to weekly publication had broken, or had been made redundant owing to the restructuring. If her ex hadn’t landed himself in jail, then he would have without doubt been a victim himself.
Even though it was not particularly bright outside, it took Charley’s eyes a while to adjust to the inside when the detectives reached the house. When her vision returned, she saw the search team, emerging one by one from the porthole behind the dining room fireplace, like time travellers returning from a mission. Spilling into the room, the explorers immediately loosened the chinstraps under their helmets, and turned off the lamps. They huddled together in muted conversation. Charley knew instinctively to stay clear when a debrief was taking place. From where she stood observing with Annie, the team’s bright orange overalls appeared to be dry and their boots relatively clean. It pleased her as it indicated that the tunnel was dry.
‘Their eyes looked red and sore. I expect it’s the strain of searching in the darkness,’ whispered Mike. Hardly able to stand still with anticipation, he ran his hand through his hair, his eagerness to hear what the mountain rescue team had to say was tangible. ‘Let’s hope there are no more bodies…’
‘That would be a nightmare, but we’d just get on and deal with it like we always do, Mike.’
A few minutes later Ted Bentley walked towards the detectives. As he did so, he put a bottle of water to his lips and eagerly drained the contents before he spoke.
‘Well lass,’ he said, on the back of a long breath, grimacing as the cold appeared to find a nerve in his tooth. ‘No wonder we couldn’t see the end of the tunnel, it follows a downward slope and divides into two, at approximately what I would say is about twelve foot from the church.’
Charley’s eyes were wide ‘There are two exits?’
Ted nodded. ‘There are. For ease let’s call the tunnel that leads to the church tunnel A, and the other that I believe will exit into the graveyard, B.’
‘You’re confirming to me that one of the tunnels does lead to the church?’
‘It’s without doubt. A bricked-up Gothic-style doorway in the south-east corner, and we heard talking, or should I say we heard something like garbled voices, female ones. At a guess I’d say it was probably you guys making your enquiries?’
Charley’s eyes were wide. ‘You think so?’
Ted nodded, and as he did so, his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. ‘Who else could it have been? There are no more dwellings in that area.’
Charley was eager to share her news with the Ted, ‘I can confirm that our enquiries at St Anne’s revealed the place where local rumour suggests there was a doorway, which leads to Crownest’s tunnel, according to Lily Pritchard who has spent her life there. Knowing where it is located, it’s easy to see where the door would have been, although it is a solid stone wall now. It’s concealed behind a curtain. Lily, it appears, is a fount of knowledge about the church and Crownest’s heritage, and is, I suspect, going to be very useful to us with our enquiries.’
‘Maybe she could enlighten us as to why we might find a heap of candle remnants and a ton of old bottles piled up at the foot of the door then?’ Ted paused, ‘and there are two inscriptions, amongst a plethora of scribblings on the walls.’
Charley frowned. ‘What do they say?’
‘They are in Latin,’ Ted said, leaning towards her conspiringly. ‘I only know it’s Latin because Fred over there is a total geek; he allus has been, even at school.’
‘You went to school together?
’
‘We did.’ On hearing his name one of the volunteers, a red-faced, rotund, jolly-looking character raised a hand, and Ted beckoned him to join them. Fred dabbed the beads of sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief.
‘Tell ’em what the motto said in English, will you,’ said Ted.
The phrase ‘facilis descensus Averno,’ rolled easily off the bearded man’s tongue. ‘Basically, it means the descent to Hell is easy.’
‘I suspect that Tunnel B to the graveyard is a later edition.’ Ted paused for a moment as if in thought. ‘Although why the hell you’d want two tunnels going to nearly the same place only Him upstairs knows.’
Fred lifted a shoulder, and hunching his back, he leaned towards Annie, with one eye tightly shut. He gave her an icy stare with the other, his voice nothing short of that of a chilling demon, ‘With ghostly looking caches, suggestive of ancient castles in the days of the Knighthood, connecting this house to a tomb!’
Annie’s stared at Fred, her eyes large and unbelieving.
‘Ignore him. He’s got a sick sense of humour. The translation of the other inscription, please?’ said Ted, nodding at Fred to do his bit.
Fred pulled a face at Ted. ‘Sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras, hoc opus, hic labor est.’
‘What does that translate as?’ asked Charley, matter-of-factly.
‘It’s from Virgil, and it means something like, to get out of Hell, that’s where the hard work lies.’
For the moment it seemed as if the world stood still for the SIO. Why would anyone inscribe such things? And who was supposed to read it?
Ted lifted his boot, and stamped it down. Annie jumped, such was her reverie. ‘The tunnel’s floor is hard-packed clay. The walls are uniform and solid. It’s an absolute credit to the workmanship of those who created it.’
‘Who do you think might have done?’ said Charley.
‘Rumour has it that it was dug by Seth, Jeremiah Alderman’s youngest son. I heard that his mental instability was caused by schizophrenia,’ said Fred.
‘A type of psychosis,’ said Mike. ‘Which might explain his dependency on drink and drugs if he was feeling upset or anxious, or even angry and suspicious of those around him; all traits of schizophrenia, I believe.’
Charley’s eyes were thoughtful as she absorbed what Mike had said. ‘Schizophrenia tends to run in families too, doesn’t it? Which might explain the murderous actions of his father and brother, Felix, before him.’
Fred was sombre. ‘I was disappointed we couldn’t leave the second tunnel B by its intended exit. It would have been satisfying to see where that led.’
‘What was stopping you?’ asked Mike.
‘We think that the soil, beyond a wooden door that appeared to be an entrance to where we do not know, has collapsed, probably due to the lack of beams placed at specific points like in the church tunnel A, which was obviously designed and built to stand the pressure,’ said Ted.
‘There were no other bodies or bones in the tunnels then?’ asked Annie, disappointment written all over her face.
‘Not that we could see,’ Ted’s smile was wide. ‘As far as underground ventures go, this one proved to be quite uneventful for us. The ground beneath our feet was relatively even, it was dry, just dark, and not half as intimidating with the right equipment and me mates alongside me. Like I said afore, a credit to them that built it.’
‘Now we may never know where the second tunnel leads,’ mused Mike.
Ted’s eyes lit up. ‘Now, I didn’t say that, did I? What I haven’t told you is that we managed to push a metal rod up through the tunnel roof to the ground above, which, we suspect, if my calculations are right, should appear, like I said before somewhere in the graveyard, we just don’t know where exactly.’
Charley’s stomach did several back-flips. ‘What are we waiting for?’ she said, beckoning them forward with a wave of her hand. ‘The more sets of eyes looking for the rod, the better! We need confirmation about that tunnel’s final destination.’
The investigative team which crossed the main road in haste didn’t go unnoticed by those gathered outside, whose sole interest was in what the coppers were doing at Crownest. Annie followed Charley in single file, where the overgrown pathway that led to the graveyard from the main road narrowed. Ted and Fred’s booted feet could be heard, as they walked with a purpose, crunching the frozen leaves fifty yards behind.
When Charley turned she could see a couple of hangers-on from the press in their wake, but the landscape and proximity of the church graveyard meant that they were unable to conceal themselves.
Charley and Annie stood at the gate to the graveyard waiting for the others to catch up, and for Annie to catch her breath. Charley offered Annie a mint from her coat pocket. Annie spoke up as she took one, ‘I wonder if it’s true, that people were employed to hang about in graveyards, waiting for “the dead” to ring their bell should they wake?’
Charley nearly choked on her sweet. ‘How does your mind work, Annie Glover?’ she scoffed.
Annie’s cheeks were red from exertion, and the cold. ‘It’s true, I read that in the olden days they thought the dead might be just “sleeping”, so they put a bell above the ground, near the coffin, attached to a piece of string so that if the person awoke, they could ring it and be rescued.’
Even though it was daylight, the graveyard still contained a certain blanket of darkness, mostly owing to the overgrown trees which bordered the plot and the dense low-hanging cloud which had thickened since their earlier visit. Rain threatened, but it was cold enough to fall as snow. Charley quickly looked back to see the men heading towards them.
From a few feet away, Ted hollered at the women. ‘Don’t wait for us! We’ll catch you up! Go find Seth Alderman’s headstone! It seems as good a place as any to start, don’t you think?’ She lifted the heavy metal bar and walked through the wooden gate. She looked around at the church whilst Annie followed, with the search and rescue team not far behind.
‘I wonder why the birds don’t sing in this graveyard?’ said Annie.
Charley could feel the hairs on her arms raise. Goosebumps prickled her skin.
‘Given the location of tunnel A to the secret doorway inside the church, I think if we pace out, it should give me…’ murmured Ted, as he joined them and began walking to and fro between the dull, grey gravestones, with long, purposeful steps. ‘…which should give me a rough idea.’ Suddenly he came to a halt in the overgrown jungle, and searched around with his eyes. No words were necessary. With small steps the others joined him to search for the rod.
‘It’s got to be somewhere amongst this overgrowth,’ he said. Ted appeared to be holding his breath, as did the others, their attention on the grass beneath their feet as they walked in a line, searching.
Charley’s eye was drawn to a dismal-looking headstone where a robin sat. As if the robin’s work had been done, it flew. This was not a bit like the one she had seen in the history books. Roots of a fallen tree had broken it into many pieces whilst freeing it from the earth. She went down on her haunches, straining to read the weather-worn inscription, when she was made aware of someone behind her. ‘If you’d asked, I would have shown you where Seth Alderman is buried,’ Lily Pritchard said, appearing as if from nowhere.
Chapter 13
Annie eyed a rectangular-shaped stone nearby, raised from the ground. It had a stone lid upon it.
‘Don’t!’ shouted Lily, but it was too late. Annie had already sat down.
The younger detective put her hand to her chest, jumped swiftly to her feet, stumbled, and fell flat on her face. She gasped and tried to sit up, holding her stinging right cheek. When Annie withdrew her hand, she could see blood. Charley saw the anxiety in Annie’s eyes.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ Annie replied, with a forced cheerfulness. ‘It was her tone,’ she said, nodding towards Lily. Annie was about to get up.
‘Stay where you are for a
moment,’ said Charley. ‘You’ve had a shock.’
‘It’s an altar tomb…’ Charley could hear Lily talking to the men. She offered no apology for alarming Annie.
Seth Alderman’s broken gravestone was in the corner of the graveyard that was isolated and concealed from view by a large felled yew tree. Their eyes explored the fallen trunk. When upright, the tree had been growing beside part of the cemetery wall which had tumbled down, when the tree had become uprooted.
‘Could it have been that the tree was planted purposely to conceal the exit to the tunnel, by giving the exit a canopy of foliage to protect it from view?’ The thought crossed Charley’s mind.
‘Did you know yew trees were planted in graveyards because they thrive on corpses?’ said Ted.
‘Druids regarded yew trees as sacred plants,’ said Lily.
‘Altar tomb?’ said Annie. ‘What’s an altar tomb?’
Fred walked the few steps to where she sat.
‘They were often placed over the vaults or burial place, sometimes they have supporting leaning statues or memorial brasses on top,’ said Fred. Head down he continued to searched the surrounding area by sight. He offered Annie his hand to help her get to her feet.
The young detective took it with one hand and put her other to the ground as she made to stand. A sharp pain ran up her arm and she squealed. ‘Ouch! What the—’ Instantly Charley knew it had to be Ted’s indicator from the tunnel. The Detective Inspector’s heart picked up a beat.
Ted’s eyes found Charley’s. ‘I reckon we’ll find exactly what we’re looking for under this tombstone,’ he said, with a certain degree of satisfaction.
A minute later Fred was down on all fours, frantically pushing fallen branches of the tree away to reveal more of the buried tomb. Ted dropped to one knee to help. Panic appeared to have set in, such was their desperation to uncover the metal spike, which would announce the location of the exit to tunnel B, before they lost the light for the day.
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