Archie's Battleflat Adventures: The Harriman Mystery

by King, Rebecca

  “The hedge,” Edward gasped, glancing at his friend. “Let’s stick to the hedge.” He nodded at the hedge that ran along the road.

  Although it was too dark for Edward to see, Archie nodded and followed. His heart was pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement as they cleared the edge of the hedge. From where they were crouched, they could see the thatch of the tavern several feet away, but they had a problem. To get there, they had to cross the road and would be visible to anyone who was looking – including the murderer, who was hopefully, still hiding further down the road.

  “What do we do now?” Edward gasped, crouching low and peering over his shoulder at his friend.

  Archie studied the area around them.

  “We will have to go further down the road and around the back of Mr Montague’s house,” Archie whispered, eyeing the assorted buildings beside them It would take them several more minutes, but as long as they stuck close to the back of the buildings, they shouldn’t be seen. They could go around the back of Mr Montague’s house and then come up at the back of the tavern.

  “It’s a long way,” Edward warned, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. Behind Archie, the soft glow of the single window that was Archie’s sitting room stood out in solitary splendour, tempting Edward with its reassuring warmth, and the promise of a bed.

  “Then let’s go, before Dad wakes up,” Archie said, shuffling around his friend and heading toward the back of the buildings.

  It took them longer than they had hoped because they had to stop several times to avoid waking up Mr Montague’s hens, and Mrs Dalyrimple’s pigs, but, eventually they found themselves at the rear of the looming bulk of the tavern.

  The small, square windows of the two storey building looked cheery and inviting in daylight. At night, they were dark and forbidding, like watchful, beady eyes. Beside the back door, two trap doors sat closed; trap doors that took them to the cellars.

  “We can’t go in there, it’s a barrel shoot. We can get down into the cellars, but can’t get back out again,” Archie warned, as they crept toward the white stone walls of the tavern. He followed Edward’s prompting and crouched down, as close to the ground as he could get without actually lying on the floor and shuffling along on his stomach.

  “It’s the only way in,” Edward argued, feeling time pressing in on them with each moment they were arguing. They were going to get caught, he just knew it.

  “What if Mr Harriman’s body is at the bottom? I don’t want to land on him, do you?” Archie knew he had won that particular skirmish when Edward lapsed into silence, and studied the door carefully.

  “There is a window open, up there,” Archie announced, pointing to a small, second floor window.

  “That’s worse,” Edward scoffed. “That could be Annie’s bedroom,” he snorted. “Do you really want to land on her?”

  Archie pulled a horrid face and shuddered theatrically. “Gawd, shoot me now,” he groaned, thinking of the rotund face of the very spoilt, and very loud Annie Malcolm, the tavern owner’s daughter.

  Edward snickered, his grin bright in the darkness.

  “Why not try the door?” Edward said, and slowly crept toward the tavern door. Archie watched in amazement as he lifted the latch, and the door swung silently inward.

  “After you,” Edward said, holding the door open to allow Archie through. He couldn’t hide the smug grin that lit his face, and bowed deeply as his friend tiptoed past. If he was honest, he couldn’t believe it was going to be that simple, and was convinced that any moment now, someone was going to appear before them. He could only hope it wasn’t Mr Harriman.

  Once inside, Archie paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He gasped and staggered forward when Edward, equally blinded by the darkness within the building, bumped into his back.

  “Sorry,” Edward grumbled, rubbing his chest.

  “Sshh.”

  Archie paused and frowned down at his feet, rocking his weight hesitantly for several minutes. The floor felt different. He knew without looking that he was standing on the trap doors. The thought of Mr Harriman lying directly beneath was enough to shift him pretty quickly and with a shudder he shuffled to one side, dragging Edward with him.

  “The trap doors,” he whispered directly into Edward’s ear. Kneeling down, he found the handles of the doors and tugged, relieved and horrified in equal measure when one of them lifted. Cold air immediately wafted around them.

  “That’s it.” Edward’s voice trembled with fear. Now that they were staring down into the gaping void of the cellars that held Mr Harriman’s body, their quest to check the dead man’s hand didn’t seem such a good idea.

  “After you,” Archie whispered, his stomach tightening nervously as he stared down into the bowels of hell. He didn’t want to appear a wimp in front of his friend, and frantically wondered how he could chicken out without showing his fear.

  “Nope. Not this time, Archie my boy. This time, I am definitely following you.” Edward’s tone warned that he wasn’t going to budge on that one, leaving Archie in a quandary.

  They were so close to knowing for sure if Mr Harriman still held the clue, that it was a shame to back out now, but down there, in the chilly darkness, lay a dead body. A body that had been brutally murdered. A body that had been there for two days. Archie felt his stomach churn over and he wondered if he was going to be sick all over the tavern floor. He began to tremble.

  “I need a light. I can’t see a thing down there. I don’t know if there are steps, or another chute, or anything,” he gasped, hoping the tavern had run out of candles and lanterns.

  “You can’t light that in here, someone watching outside will know we are here,” Edward gasped.

  “But I can’t see!” Archie gasped, glaring at his friend.

  “Use your hands!” Edward argued, waving his hands in front of Archie’s face. “Do you feel steps?”

  Archie sighed, and glanced down at the dark pit below them. He was very glad that Edward was with him and knew now that if he had been alone, he would have gone home, with his quest in tatters at his feet. Patting the ground around them, Archie found the first step, leaning into the cold pit as far as he dared. Placing his booted feet before him, he patted around with his feet in search of the second step. As he began his descent, he glanced back at Edward, nodding toward the lamp in his hand.

  “Bring that with you. We may not be able to light it up here, but are definitely lighting it down here,” Archie ordered, his voice trembling in fear and trepidation. The tavern around them was deathly quiet. Unlike his own home, there was no soft snores of his brothers, or grumbles from his father. No squeaking bedsprings, or popping of wood on the fire. It felt as though the tavern had been abandoned. It felt cold, and empty, as though it was waiting for something – or someone. Archie shuddered and quickly closed that thought off.

  Closing his eyes briefly, he glanced back, reassured to find Edward right behind him, and began to shuffle down into the darkness.

  CHAPTER SIX

  With the lantern finally lit, the boys stood side by side at the bottom of the steps, peering into the gloom around them. It was a mess. Even in the darkness, they could see the vast amount of bottles and barrels lying abandoned on the uneven dirt floor. Cobwebs covered practically every inch of ceiling. With no windows, the cavernous room had an eerie feel that made Archie shudder in distaste.

  “At least we know now why the door was left open,” Edward sighed, shaking off the cobwebs that covered his fingers.

  “Because it’s a mess?”

  “Would you want to sort through this lot to find something to steal?” Edward asked, nodding to the chaos around them.

  Archie shook his head, not looking forward to trying to find his way through the mess without making a noise. “Do you see him?”

  Edward sighed and shook his head. “If you think we are going to split up to search for him, you can think again,” he warned, his tone as dire as the look
he threw Archie. “I could get lost in this lot, and not be found for days.” He nodded toward the haphazard pile of kegs stacked beside him. “Besides, I’m not looking for a dead man in the dark.”

  Archie grinned, relieved that his friend was just as scared as he was.

  “Left or right?” Archie asked.

  “Over there,” Edward said, nodding to a dark corner of the cellar. Even from a few feet away, Archie could see the long silhouette that stood out in stark contrast against the mess in the rest of the cellars. Sitting horizontally in a room filled with crooked stacks, it – he, was covered in a pale sheet.

  Now that they were there, it was even worse than Archie had thought it would be. The sight of Mr Harriman lying there, cold and unmoving, brought forth all of the horrible memories of the day of his death.

  “Which hand?”

  Shaking off the horrifying memories, Archie glanced at his friend with a frown. He had to recall the details, relieved to realise that it was the hand closest to them. The hand on the other side was next to the wall, which meant that if they wanted to check that hand’s contents, they would have to literally climb over Mr Harriman’s body to get to it.

  “The one closest to us,” Archie replied, shuffling forward reluctantly.

  “We need to hurry up. Mr Malcolm, or your dad, could wake up at any moment, then we’ll be done for,” Edward warned, inching behind Archie reluctantly.

  Taking a deep breath, Archie squared his shoulders and shuffled across the short distance. He approached the bed warily. He didn’t know quite what he was expecting – Mr Harriman to sit up and shout ‘boo’ probably? If he did, Archie was certain he would expire on the spot himself!

  Edward had hung back from approaching the body, clearly uneasy with the prospect of getting close. Archie flicked his friend a stark look, silently warning him to stay right where he was and not run off.

  With hands that trembled, he eased the sheet back off the cold and lifeless hand. He shuddered in revulsion at the gnarled and mottled limb that lay on the makeshift bed. The fingers were as Archie had last seen them; clenched tightly into a fist. Even in the darkness he could see the tiny piece of white that was clasped between the thumb and forefinger as they lay curled into the palm of the hand.

  “Open his hand up and get it out,” Edward urged, nudging Archie in the middle of the back a little too hard. Hard enough to nudge Archie toward the body.

  “Don’t do that, Edward, what are you trying to do? Make me like him?” Archie gasped, only then realising he had placed his hand on Mr Harriman’s leg. With a shudder he wiped his hand down his trousers. He scanned the jumble of mess around them, but could see nothing they could use to prise the man’s hand open.

  “Oh, heavens,” Archie whispered with a gulp. Using the sheet so he didn’t have to touch the bare hand with his fingers, Archie prised the stiffened fingers open. One by one the quiet popping echoed loudly in the still night air.

  “Eeww,” Edward shuddered, watching his friend in horrified wonder. “Why are they making that noise?”

  “Bodies go stiff when they die,” Archie replied, bending down to prise the small piece of parchment out of the hand without tearing it. Talking about something mundane helped take his mind off the fact that he was actually touching a dead body. “At least that’s what Dad said when I asked him why the rabbit he had shot was as stiff as a board. He said that a couple of days it goes limp again, something called rigor mortis, apparently. It wears off after a day or two.” He tried not to touch the hand, he really did, but it was inevitable that the tips of his fingers would brush some part of Mr Harriman’s cold and lifeless skin.

  “Lord, that’s awful.” Edward screwed up his face with a shudder. “I know when I die, I am not going to get rigging mantis, and that’s a fact.”

  Archie rolled his eyes, and turned to grin at his friend. “I don’t think you get a choice.”

  Suddenly, the paper released from the hand, but was accompanied by a soft ping as something else fell to the floor with it.

  “What was that?”

  Archie shook his head. “I have no idea. Did you see where it went?”

  Both boys squatted down and began to search the grimy floor around them.

  “There!” Edward cried softly, pointing to the small, round object sitting against Archie’s boot.

  Archie bent to pick it up, squinting through the darkness to see what it was.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, but I think it is another clue. We need to get home and take a look at these when we have better light.”

  “Do you mean you don’t want to stop and take a better look at him?” Edward asked, only half joking. He suddenly wished he had kept his mouth shut, and eyed Archie warily.

  “Erm, no. I think I won’t, if you don’t mind,” Archie replied. “I think we need to go home.”

  “Excellent idea,” Edward declared fervently, heaving a pent up breath in relief. He had actually thought for a moment -. “Job done,” Edward declared triumphantly.

  “Well, sort of. Now all we have to do is get out of the tavern, and get back to my house without being caught.”

  “We can only hope that your dad hasn’t woken up and found out that we aren’t there, or we have some serious explaining to do.”

  Archie nodded, casting one last glance at Mr Harriman’s body. Carefully replacing the sheet, he was on Edward’s heels as they dodged around the debris and made their way toward the cellar steps. Within minutes they had extinguished the lantern and placed it back where they found it, easing open the tavern doorway to allow the cold night air to slither over them.

  Archie smothered a grin as Edward took the lead and slowly opened the door just a crack – enough to peer out into the darkness. After several long moments, he opened the door wider, and beckoned for Archie to follow as he disappeared outside.

  Archie was all too happy to follow his friend around the buildings and scurry down the long wall that led back to his house. He was very glad that Edward had enjoyed the experience tonight. It would mean he was going to be a bit more willing to agree to go with Archie on his next adventure and, having succeeded in their quest tonight, Archie had no doubt they would have to go to Mr Harriman’s house. All he could do was pray that Edward had to stay over for a second night, and his dad didn’t manage to arrange a trap with the other villagers.

  First though, they had to examine the clues they had uncovered tonight, and decide what to do next. A tiny shiver of excitement surged through him at the prospect of an adventure. If he was completely honest, Archie had to admit that it was fantastic having his friend along with him. Not only did it help to have someone to talk to about it, but he wasn’t so frightened having another person with him. It gave him the courage to do what he needed to do to help capture Mr Harriman’s murderer. If only he knew what he needed to do next, everything would be fine. Until then, two heads working on the problem were definitely better than one. With Edward’s help, they would be able to catch the murderer, and life in the small village of Battleflat could return to normal.

  Couldn’t it?

  Archie frowned. Now that he thought about it, would he really want life in Battleflat to return to boring? As he followed Edward back toward the house, Archie mulled that thought over. He had to admit, there was a small part of him that was thoroughly enjoying the adventure. It was brilliant to be involved in an actual murder hunt. Seeing the murder itself hadn’t been brilliant – far from it; especially for Mr Harriman, but outwitting a grown up, especially one who was a killer, made him feel inordinately pleased with himself, and he couldn’t wait to take a look at the clues and discuss what they meant.

  Minutes later they eased the door to Archie’s house closed behind them. Archie held up a warning finger to Edward and tiptoed across the room, opening the sitting room door enough to check that his dad was still seated beside the table, snoring softly.

  Heaving a sigh of relief, he shot Edward a triumphant gri
n as he closed the door firmly behind him. Easing the curtains open to allow a small crack of moonlight to spill over the floor, both boys settled down on the blankets to study their findings. Archie carefully placed the small piece of folded parchment and what appeared to be a coin on the floor between them. Silence settled between them as they stared at the objects.

  “What do you think they are?”

  Archie shook his head. “I need more light to be able to see properly, but I think it is a map of some sort, and a coin.”

  “It doesn’t look like any coin I have ever seen before. Of course, I haven’t seen many, but it doesn’t look like a penny or shilling. Do you think it is foreign?” Edward lifted the coin out of Archie’s finger and tried to see the indentation on the coin’s surface more clearly. Shaking his head reluctantly, he handed it back to his friend.

  “It could be a guinea. I think they are brightly coloured like this one, but I’m not sure. I don’t know ‘bout you,” Archie gasped with a yawn, “but, I need to get some sleep.”

  “Amen to that.” Edward flopped down onto the makeshift bed with a deep sigh and snuggled down into the pillow, glancing at his friend who sat staring at him absently.

  “Tomorrow, we need to take a look at this and decide what we are going to do.”

  “Do you think Mr Harriman was involved in forgery or something?” Edward sighed sleepily, unwilling to succumb to the tiredness that threatened to drag him relentlessly downward.

  “I think he was definitely up to something, and that got him murdered,” Archie whispered, his mind fogged with weariness.

  “Tomorrow,” Edward promised.

  “Yes, tomorrow.”

  The following morning Archie and Edward reluctantly made their way to the sitting room for breakfast. Archie sleepily rubbed at his eyes, wishing he could have at least another hour more. The last two nights were beginning to catch up with him. Was he actually weaving on his feet?