by Joy Ellis
The door was just ahead of him, smaller than the front one, but still sturdy and undoubtedly solid oak. ‘Looks shut up tighter than a bank vault, ma’am.’ Jon called back, then placed his hand on its splintery wooden surface, and jolted back as if he’d been electrocuted.
He gasped and tried to catch his breath. He felt as if he’d been hit in the six-pack by an All Black Prop. His body stiffened, and a surge of adrenalin coursed through him putting him on the alert for danger. For a moment he stood like a statue, only his eyes moving, darting backwards and forwards. Suddenly he realised that his hand was still raised in front of him, although he was now some feet from the door.
He remained that way for maybe a minute, then turned to see a horrified Kate staring at him.
‘What the hell was that?’ she asked.
Jon began to relax, then exhaled loudly. ‘Phew, this place has history.’
‘Recent history?’ asked Kate.
‘That wasn’t. That was really old stuff.’ He puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. ‘I don’t know what this place was used for, but it had nothing to do with God.’ He walked slowly across to the low wall that edged the tiny graveyard, and sat heavily on it. He stared up at the grey stone walls of the chapel and frowned. He had seen people, hoards of them, coming and going, all carrying things, dragging things, hiding things beneath their coats. The frown creased deeper into his brow. Whatever they were up to, they all looked furtive and stealthy.
Kate walked over and sat down beside him. He told her what he had seen, then she said, ‘Maybe they were sacking the place?’
His head shook slowly from side to side. ‘No, they were bringing stuff in, as well as leaving with it.’ He looked across the fields to the edge of the marsh. ‘So where…?’ His voice drifted slightly. ‘Their clothes were all bedraggled, wet and muddied. I heard a terrible wind roaring around me, and screaming, Kate, terrible screams.’ He swallowed hard as realisation dawned on him. ‘Oh my God! They were wreckers! It was the cargo from a ship, and they were bringing it here to hide!’
Kate looked puzzled. ‘Did we have wreckers along this coast? I thought that was the Cornishmen’s favourite pastime?’
‘We had some alright. It’s documented. Mablethorpe had its share, and it looks like this area tried their hand at it too.’ Jon shivered.
Kate stared out towards the marsh. ‘Well, the Wash is just beyond this marsh, and then it’s the North Sea. It’s possible, but it’s a very long way to drag illicit cargo to hide. How did they get it here, I wonder?’
Jon rubbed his chin. ‘Tunnels, maybe?’ He paused. For some reason he had a picture in his mind of a long, straight, red-brick tunnel. He shrugged. ‘But most importantly, they were taking stuff down steps, so there’s definitely a cellar here.’
He stood up shakily and they walked back to the chapel to begin a more thorough check of the dilapidated church.
After a while Kate dropped to her knees. ‘Jon! Here, look.’ She tugged at a tangled mass of brambles and nettles, and as he watched, they pulled easily away to reveal some old stone steps, built close against the chapel wall.
‘Was it my imagination, or did those brambles lift up rather too easily?’ Jon stared at the matted carpet of drying plant material.
‘I just thought the same thing.’ Kate lifted the camouflage cover to one side. ‘And I’d say that these steps have recently been swept, wouldn’t you?’
Jon carefully eased his way past her and down the steps to an ancient, iron hinged door. Taking care not to place his hand on it, after his previous adventure with the chapel door, he just stared closely at the lock. It was clean, dark and shiny. He touched it tentatively with his forefinger, then held it up and showed Kate. It was stained with a wet spot of clear oil.
‘Right, so this place is being used for something, but I don’t want to jump the gun and say we’ve found the venue for the club.’ Kate frowned. ‘And I’m guessing that door is too tough to put a shoulder to?’
‘Even if I had a wrecking ball, I’d still place my bet on the door to win the bout.’
‘Shit, I wish we still held key-holders lists.’ Kate grumbled. ‘We need to find out who has access here. Maybe our friendly neighbourhood vicar will know.’
Jon gave the door a final look, then walked back up the steps and helped her replaced the mat of brambles. ‘Let’s go see, shall we?’
Fendyke Vicarage was a far cry from jigsaw puzzle prettiness. It was a sturdy 1940’s four bedroom home, built in the grounds of the church and occupied by the resident vicar and his family for however long they stayed in the diocese. And probably because of that, it had a rather plain and unloved look to it. The building itself was austere in its structure, and no effort had been made to make it look like someone’s cherished home. And if the house were not stereotype for a vicarage, then the Reverend Michael Barley was even more of a surprise.
The man that answered the door was around six foot tall, broad as he was high, and wore a full beard that screamed salty sea-dog. Kate’s first impression was that his sermons would be less of a gentle guidance to the paths of righteousness, and more of an indisputable eleventh commandment.
‘Come in, come in.’ He stood back and they eased past his beefy frame.
He led the way down a long hallway and into a large airy lounge that looked out over an overgrown lawn. The room itself was a cacophony of ill-matched colours, with busy floral print curtains fighting valiantly with an even bolder patterned carpet.
Lazing on an ultra-modern leather sofa, one that seemed extraordinarily out of place in the rather dated surroundings, was a black Labrador, a white cat and a spotty youth. All three looked up as they entered, but Kate was hard put to know which expression was the most disdainful.
‘Nicholas, call your brother down, please.’ The vicar turned to them. ‘I thought I’d better have both my sons available for you to talk to. He raised a bushy eyebrow, ‘Whatever the reason for your call, it’s bound to concern at least one or possibly both of them.’
The teenager slouched off silently, and then they heard the name of Ethan, being shouted up the stairs.
‘They are in no trouble, Sir.’ Kate smiled. ‘We just need some help with enquiries regarding a missing teenager.’
The Reverend Barley indicated towards two armchairs, then hoisted the reluctant dog from the couch for himself. As he lowered himself down they heard a sigh of objection from the sofa springs, and Kate found herself wondering if his pulpit were under-pinned in some way.
‘Ah, this is Ethan, my eldest boy, and Nicholas, the baby of the family.’
The baby glowered at them from beneath a long, lank fringe, and flopped back down on the far end of the couch.
Ethan dutifully stuck out a hand for a brief greeting, then dragged a giant leather beanbag towards the fireplace and casually draped himself into it. He was a thin young man, narrow-faced, dark hair, black rimmed designer glasses, and one of those bony boys who wear their jeans so low below their hips that they seem to defy gravity.
Jon gave them a concise précis of Toni’s ordeal, and then asked if either of them knew a girl called Shauna Kelly, or a girl with long dark hair called Emily.
All the time, Kate watched them keenly.
Nicholas’s face hardly moved a muscle, but at the mention of Toni’s name, Ethan had taken a sharp breath and frowned. Kate felt no doubt in her mind that this news really was a surprise to him.
‘Is Toni going to be okay?’ he asked.
‘We hope so. She was a very lucky girl to have escaped with only minor injuries.’ said Kate seriously.
A low growl emanated from the vicar’s throat. ‘Best day’s work you ever did, boy, when you broke up with that girl. She’s trouble. I always said so, didn’t I?’
‘It’s hardly her fault if some bastard spiked her drink.’
‘Language, Ethan!’
‘So, do you have a better word for someone who does that kind of thing?’ Ethan swung back.
&
nbsp; Personally Kate couldn’t think of one, but decided not to join the in-house banter.
‘And Shauna, or Emily?’
‘Nah.’ mumbled the baby.
They looked at Ethan.
‘Not Shauna, but a student friend of mine tried chatting up a girl called Emily in a pub in Harlan Marsh, a week or so ago.’ He shrugged. ‘Might not be the same Emily, of course.’
‘Do you know what she looked like?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘I never saw her, but my friend said she was a stunner. He was gutted when she told him to get lost.’
Jon took out is pocket book and wrote down the boy’s name and number. ‘We’ll see if he recalls anything that may help us. Now can you tell me if you’ve ever heard about an illegal, under-age drinking club? One that regularly changes its venue?’
‘Whoa there!’ The vicar leaned forwards angrily. ‘My lads wouldn’t go near that sort of place.’
‘I’m sure they wouldn’t.’ Jon lied. ‘But it doesn’t mean that they’ve not heard rumours about it, does it? The grapevine is pretty powerful when you’re a youngster.’
The vicar sat back again. ‘Mm, I suppose so. Boys?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘I have never heard of it, but I’d guess Toni Clarkson could help you. She was always on about a place where you could get legless for free.’ He shook his head again. ‘Not my kind of scene.’ He bit his lip. ‘And, if you must know, that was one reason why we broke up.’
‘I’m glad she dumped you. Cheap tart.’ grumbled the baby. But Jon had seen his expression when Kate mentioned the drinking club. Baby Nicholas knew more than he was letting on.
‘And you, Nicholas? Anything filtered your way?’
‘Nah.’ He shifted slightly in his seat. ‘Dunno what you’re on about.’
Kate did not believe him, and she knew Jon didn’t either, but neither of them commented. It would be far better to get the boy alone.
‘And finally, Reverend Barley, would you know who holds a key for the old Chapel out on the Fen Road?’ Kate asked.
Kate glanced quickly at two boys. Ethan looked kind of neutral, but Nicholas gave the slightest start, one that he took great pains to conceal.
‘Well, I do actually. Why do you ask?’ The vicar looked faintly bemused.
‘We are checking all deserted and unsafe buildings.’ said Kate quickly. ‘Because of the missing girl. Could we please trouble you to either unlock it for us, or let us have the key temporarily?’
‘Of course, I’ll get it for you now.’ He eased himself upwards, and the sofa sighed again, this time probably with relief.
A moment or two later he was handing Kate a metal key-ring with a tattered card label attached to it.
‘I wouldn’t care to say how long it is since the door was opened, DCI Reynard. I think it must have been last autumn when we had all those terrible high winds. The bell-tower collapsed and we checked inside for other damage. Since then it’s remained shut up.’
Kate thought differently, but just nodded and took the keys from him.
The vicar glanced at the mantle clock and said, ‘I’d come with you, but I have an appointment with one of my parishioners in fifteen minutes time.’
‘No problem, Sir, we’ll bring them straight back.’ Jon smiled enquiringly. ‘Maybe one of your lads would like to come down there with us?’
‘No fear.’ The baby rose from his couch with remarkable speed and headed for the door. ‘Got things to do.’
Ethan placed a hand behind one ear. ‘Oh yeah, I thought I heard the cry of an abandoned Playstation calling.’
‘Get stuffed,’ came back from the hall.
‘I’ll go with you.’ Ethan didn’t exactly sound enthused, but at least it was a voluntary offer.
‘Good boy.’ said the Vicar. ‘Do you have children, DCI Reynard?’
‘Yes.’ Kate nodded, ‘Like you, I have two boys.’
The vicar raised his eyebrows. ‘Both a blessing and a curse, I fear. Something tells me that Nicholas will not be following his brother and his sister to university.’
‘I doubt he’ll even make it to the Job Centre.’ added Ethan grimly.
The Reverend sighed. ‘We mustn’t give up on him, maybe he’ll surprise us all one day.’
Kate glanced at Jon and she knew that he was thinking the same thing. By the look of Nicholas Barley, the only surprise the vicar was likely to get, was a nasty one.
Kate drove back towards the chapel, and glanced in the rear-view mirror at Ethan. He was not the kind of boy that she had expected, considering the rather scathing opinion of Neil and Ellen Clarkson. And above all, even disregarding their age difference, Kate could not imagine him as an item with the belligerent and lippy young Toni. ‘So what are you studying?’ She asked in a friendly manner.
‘Politics and International Relations. I’m doing a three year degree course at Nottingham.’
‘Are you going to specialise?’
‘I’m planning on taking a module in Globalisation in my third year.’
‘Interesting stuff.’ remarked Jon. ‘And did I hear your father mention that your sister is also at Uni?’
Ethan’s narrow face broke into a smile. ‘Oh yes. Daybreak is the brains of the family.’
‘Daybreak?’ Kate butted in.
‘Her name’s Dawn, but she hates it. She calls herself, Danni. I call her my version of her real name. She’s at Oxford studying Humanities. Theology is her thing, and Dad is over the moon. If it weren’t for Nic, he’d really believe that he’d been thrice blessed.’
‘You do know that your brother knows about the drinking club that we were inquiring about?’ said Jon casually.
‘What? Nic? You are kidding!’ Ethan laughed out loud. ‘Nic would need sat-nav to find his own belly-button. He’s thick as sh…, as two short planks. He’d never be clever enough to keep quiet about something like that.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ said Jon with a knowing smile. ‘He reacted the moment we mentioned it. He almost slid down the back of the couch.’
‘I can’t believe that.’
‘We’ll see, shall we?’ Kate gave a shrug, ‘But, forgive me for saying this, what on earth did you see in Toni Clarkson? You two seem poles apart.’
Ethan took a deep breath. ‘Don’t be deceived by Toni, Chief Inspector. She’s far cleverer than she lets on, and what did I see in her? Well, I loved the way she kept true to herself despite her family’s wealth. I loved the way she kicked against the system. I saw a free spirit, and I think I may know her better than she knows herself.’
‘Very deep.’ Jon murmured, as Kate turned into the lane to the chapel.
‘She’ll calm down as she grows up.’ Ethan spoke gently, like some aged mentor, not an ex-boyfriend. ‘You probably won’t believe it, but Toni can be really sweet, when you get her away from her juvenile friends.’
As Kate pulled up and switched off the engine, Ethan said, ‘She had a close call, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, Ethan, she did.’ Kate looked at him seriously. ‘About as close as it gets. We believe she narrowly escaped being abducted.’
‘Is she allowed visitors?’
‘She may be going home this afternoon, so ring first, but yes, I think seeing a friendly face might do her good.’
They got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Kate had decided to check the main chapel before they went into the cellar.
‘What a dump,’ said Ethan, brushing plaster dust from his skinny jeans.
‘Have you been in here before?’ Jon asked.
‘I was at home when the storm hit. I came down with my father and a few of the parishioners to check for damage.’
‘Did Nicholas go with you?’
The boy frowned. ‘Come to think of it, he did, which was pretty weird. He doesn’t usually help with anything.’
They scoured the old building for some ten minutes, but found nothing but dusty broken masonry and pigeon droppings. ‘Okay, let’s check the
cellar, shall we?’
‘There’s a cellar?’ asked Ethan blankly. ‘I never knew that.’
Jon nodded. ‘Well, I suppose it’s a crypt, but yes, there’s a door round the back.’ They both watched his face, but saw only mild surprise. And the surprise intensified when he saw the matted nettles and brambles lift up to expose the steps and the door.
‘Bloody hell!’ He glanced up at Jon and shook his head in disbelief. ‘I bet my father doesn’t know about this. What do you think is down there?’
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ Kate decided that the boy was not play-acting. He actually looked quite stunned by their discovery.
Jon slipped the smallest of the three keys into the lock. The old door swung open far more smoothly than it had a right to, and Jon stepped inside.
The crypt was a large open area, with a stone floor, a low ceiling, and the remnants of one mega party.
Ethan slipped through the door behind Jon and let out a low whistle.
Jon glanced across at Kate. ‘I think we just found one of the venues for that drinking club.’
Her gaze roamed around the filthy crypt and on closer inspection, Kate decided that one mega orgy might have been a better description of what had gone on. Bottles, cans, plastic glasses, cigarette packets and dog-ends, and dozens of spent candles were strewn across the floor.
‘This is really gross.’ Ethan kicked angrily at a used condom with the toe of his navy and white Converse boot. ‘This was a place of worship.’
Kate noted the disgust on his face. Ethan may be a liberated activist when it came to student politics, but something of his father had clearly rubbed off on him.
‘So was Medmendham Abbey,’ said Jon, ‘…and look what the Hellfire Club used that for.’
‘It’s still gross.’
‘That it is, lad. Now, I wonder how the party-goers got hold of the key for this place?’ Jon mused, with a shrewd glance and a raised eyebrow in Ethan’s direction.