Wreckers Island

by L K Harcourt

‘Into trouble?’

  ‘You see, as I was saying, Emma adores you and she was desperately upset and cold with anger at Zak for saying he’d killed you,’ said John, pausing as he tried to work out the best way to phrase things. ‘Anyway, she picked up one of the iron spades in the outbuilding that we’d used to prise up the flagstone. They are very heavy, as you know and . . . ’

  ‘Get on with it John, what did she do with the spade?’ said Dan, impatiently, dreading the answer.

  ‘She whacked him with it,’ said John. ‘She hit him with almost superhuman force, she was so outraged and grief stricken. It was sufficient not only to send him tumbling down the shaft but, I am quite certain, to have fractured his skull. If he’s dead, and I believe he may well be, then he will have died from a catastrophic blow to the head, not from a fall and a police post mortem would be sure to reveal that.’

  ‘But I thought you told me Zak fell and that he was unconscious and would take a while to come round?’ said Dan, looking at John in horror, hardly able to believe this revelation.

  ‘No Dan, you asked me if he fell and I replied ‘more or less’. Well, what else was I supposed to have said at that particular moment, when our priority was to get straight back up the shaft to safety? And at the time I assumed he was just knocked out but what I’m now saying is I think he may be knocked out for good. I didn’t know or care down in that tunnel, I just wanted us to escape.’

  ‘So if your hunch is correct, Emma could get done for murder?’ said Dan, slowly.

  ‘No, I would hope not,’ replied John. ‘But the police might well see a case for bringing a charge of manslaughter on the grounds that it was an unlawful killing. The question is the amount of force that was used. Did she use the minimum necessary in self defence or grossly excessive force out of fury at what she thought he’d done to you?’

  ‘But surely any jury, when acquainted with all the facts, would side with her, and would understand why she did it,’ reasoned Dan, ‘and that she was in fear of her life, and for the lives of you and Louise, not least because she thought I was dead? Surely they would acquit in those circumstances?

  ‘And yet I can’t believe we’re holding this conversation,’ he continued, as the full enormity of what John was telling him began to sink in. ‘Emma would never hurt someone like that, she’s not capable. And I don’t believe Zak’s dead either. This whole situation is like a really nice dream turning into a total nightmare. Please tell me we’re not seriously suggesting that my lovely, gentle girlfriend has killed someone.’

  ‘No, not on purpose anyway. But if Zak is dead, then we have to appraise where that leaves us all,’ said John. ‘I certainly don’t see it as murder, and nor would any jury in their right mind. But there must be a possibility that they would convict on manslaughter. Who knows? Maybe the Crown Prosecution Service wouldn’t even bring the case to trial but we have to remember that the treasure is tied up in all this. It may be seen as in the public interest to put the case before a jury to decide.

  ‘We may, in the eyes of the authorities, and indeed a jury, seem less innocent somehow when they know that, prior to the death of Zak, we had got our hands on long-lost treasure and wished to guard it at all costs. And if any criminal action arises, we could lose our title to its value. We almost certainly would if either Emma or any of us for that matter were convicted of a criminal offence relating to it.’

  ‘That would be so utterly unfair,’ said Dan, miserably. ‘Above all, on poor Emma when she’s the sort of person who wouldn’t harm a hair on someone’s head.’

  ‘Precisely,’ said John quickly seeking to move the conversation on from that unfortunate turn of phrase. ‘Your Emma isn’t the villain in all this, she’s been a hero today Dan, as much as you have. Without her prompt, decisive action, Zak would have climbed up out of that hole and we would have been at his mercy. I like to think I would have coshed him with the spade, albeit not landing such a heavy blow, but I have to admit that Louise and I were sort of struck dumb by him saying he’d killed you. We wouldn’t have reacted quickly enough to prevent him from climbing into the outbuilding. But Emma just exploded, she went off like a rocket. I’ve never seen her like that before. She has, effectively, saved us and the treasure.’

  ‘Well they do say that it’s always the quiet ones you have to watch,’ said Dan, wryly. ‘Oh God, what a mess, just when things looked to be going our way.’

  ‘All is not lost Dan. In fact, nothing is lost, save for that miserable life down the bottom of the shaft. The question is what are we going to do about it?’ said John.

  ‘There are two issues at stake here, assuming you’re right that Zak is dead,’ said Dan, thinking it through. ‘If we tell Emma it will cripple her. She’s not emotionally strong enough to deal with this sort of thing. The sense of guilt and remorse will overwhelm her, she won’t cope. She might very well go and tell the police and sort of ‘face the music’. That could wreck her university course, even if things went her way in the end.

  ‘The other aspect is the fortune that we will all potentially stand to lose. Emma’s cut of it could make the difference between her being able to stay on her degree course and having to give up. And that kind of money would make a huge difference to all of us. But it’s not what happens to the treasure so much that bothers me, it’s what all this is going to do to poor Emma psychologically.’

  ‘Well,’ said John, ‘the only way to protect Emma and our claim to the treasure is not to tell her what has happened, or may have happened, to Zak.’

  ‘If Zak has died, she must not find out about it,’ said Dan. ‘If one life, and a useless one at that, has been destroyed, why should a good life like hers be ruined because of it? Above all, Emma did what she did for the love of me and for us all.’

  ‘My thoughts entirely,’ said John. ‘Well there’s only one way to find that out for sure whether Zak’s alive or dead isn’t there? We need to peer down the shaft and take a look.’

  Dan shivered. ‘I really don’t want to be doing that.’

  ‘Listen Dan, you’ve got to get real on this. We have to find out if we have a dead body down there. And if there is, and we don’t want the world to know about it, you know what that means don’t you? We’ll have to move it. Otherwise, as soon as he is reported missing it isn’t going to take long before the police will be walking up that tunnel and finding him. And if they don’t find him, the archaeology boffins certainly will when they turn up after we’ve reported the treasure.’

  ‘Couldn’t we just leave the body where it is and claim we found the treasure somewhere else, in a different tunnel, or I don’t know, in the ground or something?’ argued Dan.

  ‘Oh that’s nonsense and you know it,’ objected John. ‘We would have to commit fraud on an industrial scale to get that to stick – lying about the actual location of the treasure, which archaeologists with their expertise would see through straightaway, then pretending we knew nothing about a rotting body found in an undersea tunnel leading directly to the island we’re staying on. It’s bound to be discovered soon enough, especially as the shoreline entrance has so recently been unblocked. And then it would be immediately apparent to Emma that Zak had died from the blow she struck him.’

  ‘Ok, ok,’ said Dan, looking at John slightly helplessly. ‘That’s no good then. I was clutching at straws.’

  ‘Now listen,’ replied John. ‘This is what we do. You and I go back to the outbuilding and carefully open up the shaft. Assuming all is quiet, we shine our torch down the hole. Zak’s outstretched hand was visible from the tunnel where he fell. If we can’t see that hand in the torchlight, it means Zak may still be alive and managed to crawl away. If the hand is still there in exactly the same position, then that would strongly suggest he’s dead.

  ‘We must then go down the shaft and find out for certain. If he’s still there, we must then set about the unpleasant task of removing the body from that location and disposing of it elsewhere. My plan would be to wrap the body up
in tarpaulin of some kind, winch it up the hole and then carry it out to Louise’s boat. You and I will then motor off into the bay and dump it overboard.’

  ‘It will most likely float,’ objected Dan, and be washed ashore on the tide.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said John, ‘and that’s what we want to happen. ‘His death needs to look accidental, which indeed it was. If we weigh him down with stones and send him to the sea bed, if and when his body is ever discovered, it will be treated as murder. We must not do anything which could inadvertently make it look as if we have a guilty conscience and are in some way responsible.’

  ‘Well I’m afraid that’s exactly what it will look like if we get caught, John,’ said Dan.

  ‘Do you have any better ideas?’ John asked him.

  ‘No,’ admitted Dan. ‘It seems to be our only hope. It’s a horrible plan though.’

  ‘It will be an awful lot more horrible if we don’t deal with things quickly and allow the body to start decomposing,’ said John. Dan shuddered.

  ‘Ok, it’s agreed then,’ said John. ‘We’ll go back to the lighthouse now and tell the girls we want some lads’ time to do a spot of fishing. The girls will probably appreciate a bit of time to themselves as well. And then, as soon as the deed is done, we come straight back and the four of us take the boat over to the shore and go for another night out at the Smugglers Tavern.

  ‘We’ll sit in the window which allows us a view of both the harbour and the island so we would see straightaway if anyone takes a boat towards the lighthouse. I don’t like leaving the treasure but it should be secure in that really strong hidden safe, especially as we have that decoy box. The important thing is, it helps create an alibi and a sense of normality.’

  Dan shrugged his shoulders with an air of resigned acceptance. He didn’t like what John was proposing at all. Hopefully Zak had survived and limped off licking his wounds and their sordid little plot wouldn’t be necessary.

  CHAPTER 19

  It was with troubled hearts that John and Dan returned to the lighthouse and climbed the stairs back up to the lamp room. Louise and Emma seemed to be in good spirits and still deep in girls’ talk.

  ‘Look,’ said John, after a while, ‘Dan and I fancied taking the boat out, just for an early evening ride and maybe do a spot of fishing. Would it be ok by you Louise if we borrowed your boat, I think I’ve mastered how to use it. We’ll leave you two girls to continue your girlie chats and then how about we all go back ashore later and have another drink and a meal?’

  Emma looked a little alarmed but she didn’t have the energy to go out on a fishing trip after the day they had had, particularly not if they were all to be going out later on.

  ‘Isn’t that a bit unwise us going out later, I mean, with what we’ve got in the lighthouse?’ she said.

  ‘It’s no safer with us here,’ said Dan. ‘If Zak or one of his bully boys were to attack us later, I don’t think any of us could stand in their way. Our only hope would be to call the police at that stage, and we could do that from the shore.’

  ‘Ok well look, shall I make you a nice flask of tea or coffee and get you some snacks to take?’ said Emma, ever thoughtful.

  ‘Oh no, we’ll be fine, honestly,’ said Dan, ‘I haven’t really got much appetite at the moment.’

  ‘No, nor me,’ said John. ‘Anyway you two have a nice time and we’ll be back later.’

  And with that, John and Dan headed first to the outbuilding where Louise had reminded them the fishing rods were kept. It gave them a handy excuse to be going back there and which, conveniently, wasn’t visible from the lounge windows. However it would be, just about, from the lamp room if the girls happened to look out at the wrong moment. It was a risk they would have to take.

  John and Dan walked slowly and reluctantly to the outbuilding and unlocked the door. It was all quiet inside and although it was still light outside, it was getting dark and gloomy in there. John flicked the light on, which came from a single bare electric bulb. The place was as they had left it.

  ‘God I’m dreading this,’ said Dan.

  ‘Believe me, so am I,’ replied John. ‘Come on, let’s get it over with. I tell you what, I’m quite looking forward to another night out down the village tavern, I think we’ll deserve a drink after this!’

  ‘If only we could just fast forward the next couple of hours,’ said Dan, as they began removing all the junk they had piled on top of the flagstone. His weary, bruised hands yelped in pain as he picked up a spade and began levering it under the flagstone as John did the same with the other.

  The slab wasn’t as hard to dislodge this time. They were able to shift it to one side fairly easily. Then it was a simple matter to lift up the lid – although psychologically it was very hard. What John and Dan both needed just then was the hoppy, fragrant scent of an ice cold beer. That should have been their just reward after such a trying day.

  Instead, as the lid to the shaft was prised off, a faintly sickly odour rose up, like bad air with a metallic hint of drying blood. To their relief, no-one was waiting on the rungs below ready to pop up like a Jack-in-the-box. John shone the torch all the way down the iron grips to be totally sure and then, the horrible moment they had been waiting for: he turned the beam onto the tunnel floor itself.

  ‘Oh look,’ said John, grabbing Dan’s shoulder. ‘Can you see – fingers just visible. Zak’s hand! He’s still lying there.’

  Dan peered downwards, his face, whitened already by the chalk he had applied, becoming whiter still. He looked at that moment almost like death himself.

  ‘Come on,’ said John. ‘Let’s get down there and get it over with. We’ll need some tarpaulin, there’s plenty of it in the store cupboard and some rope to tie him up with. There’s a coil in the cupboard that should do the job. Oh and we must wear gloves, proper thick gloves. It’s a good thing that cupboard is well stocked with things like that, I never thought.’

  They threw the rope down to the tunnel floor to bind him up and made the other end fast to the door handle of the outbuilding as they had before. It would be far preferable to haul the body up attached to a rope if possible. Now all that remained was to get down the shaft. John insisted that he go down first, psychologically that would make it easier for Dan, who had suffered enough that day.

  Dan shone his torch down to help his friend see the iron rungs and John shone his up as Dan descended, after initially flashing it nervously along the tunnel. How horrible it was to be back down here in such circumstances, thought Dan as he stepped into the passageway to join John.

  There was total silence. There was no reason to think anyone was about – no-one living that is. They both looked at the grim sight on the floor. Zak had not moved an inch in the couple of hours or so since he crashed to the ground. He did not appear to be breathing.

  John shone his torch at his face – it looked a strange shade of grey and his glazed eyes stared lifelessly upwards. There was a purplish red mark on the top of his forehead where the spade had connected. In death, he looked even more fat and bloated than before. It was a repulsive sight.

  ‘Zak, can you hear us, we’ve come to help,’ said John, bravely, wanting him to reply at the same time as fervently hoping he didn’t.

  He didn’t. John swallowed hard, and reached out and grasped his wrist. It was cold. There was no pulse.

  ‘So you were right John,’ whispered Dan. ‘Zak’s dead. Now we have a six foot, probably 18-stone corpse to dispose of.’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ replied John, who felt a shiver go down his back. Even though he had expected this, it still shocked him to the core. And now that they were actually confronted with the task of removing the body, he was seized with doubt that it would be possible.

  ‘Do you know something Dan,’ said John, slowly, ‘I don’t think we’re going to be able to shift him, I don’t think we’ll have the strength. And I really can’t see us being able to haul him up on a single length of rope, it just isn’t going to wor
k. We risk damaging the body and that could be dangerous if and when it’s found.’

  ‘The only alternative would be to carry the body the other way, to the tunnel entrance and try to get it on the boat that end. And we could easily be seen by passers-by,’ reasoned Dan. ‘That isn’t much of an option either. Unless we left it to nightfall, that is, and I really don’t like the thought of having to manhandle that body in the dark. Oh God, this becoming such an absolute nightmare. We’re stuck John, completely stuck.’

  John was better in these sort of situations than Dan. He was a naturally more cheerful-natured chap who, in addition to being able to look on the bright side of even bad situations, would often be able to find a way out, if one could be found.

  ‘Well, I have the germ of an idea, which just might work,’ he said, suddenly. ‘How about using a safety harness of some kind – the sort that yachtsmen wear. I’m sure Louise has something like that stored in her boat along with the lifejackets. It’s the sort you can attach a safety rope to in case you get washed overboard.’

  ‘Right,’ said Dan. ‘That’s a good idea. But first, let’s try the store cupboard in the outbuilding. Remember, this is her parents’ place and they keep all their sailing gear here. Come on, let’s go and have a look.’

  John and Dan climbed back up out of the shaft heartily wishing it was for the last time, but at least now they had a ray of hope.

  ‘Let me go through the stuff in the storeroom,’ said John, ‘I know what I’m looking for.’

  ‘Here,’ he said, a few minutes later. ‘What about this?’

  It certainly looked like a safety harness, with reflective tape, toggles, shoulder straps, a waistband and – most importantly of all – a sturdy metal D-ring to attach a line to.

  ‘That should do it,’ said John, as the pair of them made their way back down the shaft. ‘Now for the yucky bit. ‘We’re going to have to sit him up against that wall.’

  The two of them put their gloves on, grabbed Zak’s shoulders and pushed him into a seated position. ‘Lucky that rigor mortis hasn’t set in yet,’ said John, trying valiantly to sound cheery, but it came across as strangely macabre. ‘Sorry to ask but can you hold him in position while I tie the harness on?’