The Galloway Case

by Andrew Garve

  From that moment everything seemed to go against us. I’d even been wrong about the right-hand fork being in better shape than the other one. It had started off better, but now it was deteriorating fast. It was terribly wet, and in places we had to splash ankle-deep through pools of mud and water. Many of the props were so rotten that they were bulging under the weight of earth. Some had come away altogether. At one spot, a section of wall had caved right in, forming a mound of mud and props halfway across the passage. If conditions got any worse we’d be in real trouble. I wondered how much further the tunnel went into the mountain. Somewhere, surely, there must be workings. That was what we needed now to give us a chance—an underground quarry with plenty of room.… Then, as I pressed the flashlight button for another quick check, I stopped bothering about what lay ahead. For us, nothing lay ahead—except rubble. The roof had fallen in and the way was blocked.

  Now we were really in a trap. For a moment I could see no ray of hope at all. If Dancy approached us with caution, using plenty of matches, he’d be able to shoot us long before we could do anything about him. We’d be sitting birds. If only there’d been a bit of cover …! Suddenly I thought of the mound of mud where the wall had caved in. It wasn’t much of a place for an ambush but it would be better than nothing and it was only a few yards away. I grabbed Mary’s arm and we raced back. In a matter of seconds we‘d reached the mound and flung ourselves down behind it in the soft mud. Dancy was still hidden by a curve in the tunnel. I switched on the flashlight for a quick reconnaissance. It wasn’t a very healthy spot—the roof timbers were bad, as well as the wall. Several of them had broken away at one end and were drooping down. But we were in no position to be choosy. I snapped off the light. Mary said, “What are you going to do?’’ She was trembling a little. I said, “I’ll have to try and rush him—it’s the only way now.’’ She pressed close against me. “Be as careful as you can,’’ she said. I squeezed her hand, and looked out over the top of the mound. Dancy was just coming round the bend, thirty yards away. He was moving more slowly and carefully than ever and striking far more matches. It was just as though he knew about the mound. I suddenly wondered if he’d been in the mine before. He might have been. He might have known all the time that the passage was blocked ahead. That would account for his leisurely pursuit. He might even have planned to kill us here in the first place. If so, we’d certainly made it easy for him!

  It was a nerve-racking wait in the cold, clammy darkness. He was coming on at a snail’s pace. Matches flickered and died. Slowly, very slowly, the gap narrowed. He must be pretty close now, I thought—not more than twenty feet. I braced myself. The mud wouldn’t make much of a springboard but it was all I had. I could hear him advancing again, very warily. I felt sure he knew about the mound. Anyway, he must have seen it by now. He’d strike one more match, I thought, before he reached it. His gun would be at the ready. I’d have to rush him as the light went out. Timing would be everything. I’d have to try and make it in one bound. I waited tensely. A match scraped. The light was so close I daren’t even raise my head. The match seemed to burn for hours! As it went out I hurled myself forward. At the same instant, Dancy fired. The noise was fiendish in the narrow passage—but he missed again. I plunged toward him. My feet slid wildly in the mud. Suddenly I was falling! I grabbed for the roof to steady myself. Whatever I grabbed was loose and came away in my hand. An avalanche of earth started to pour down on me. There was a deep rumbling noise, as though the whole mountain was splitting in two. I scrambled back, and as I did so the roof in front of me collapsed with a great roar. I called, “Mary, where are you?’’ flashing the light. Then something hit me and everything went black.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I came round to find Mary kneeling beside me. She’d got the flashlight and was shining it down on me. “Peter!’’ she was saying in an agitated voice. “Peter, are you all right?’’

  I struggled into a sitting position. We were on the very edge of the debris. I moved my arms and legs and felt my head. I had a cut over my right temple but I didn’t seem to have suffered any serious damage. “Yes,’’ I said, “I’m all right.… How long have I been out?’’

  “Not long—only a couple of minutes.’’

  “Are you all right?’’

  “Yes, I got out of the way just in time.… Peter, we’re shut in!’’

  I heaved myself up and took the flashlight from her and shone it on the rubble. It was a frightening sight. A mass of earth and stones and props had completely closed the passage where the mound of mud had been. We were imprisoned now between two falls, in a stretch of tunnel scarcely twenty feet long. We were safe from Dancy’s bullets, but it didn’t look as though our prospects of survival had improved.

  Mary said, “How long do you think the air will last?’’

  “Probably longer than the flashlight battery,’’ I said. “Come on, let’s have a look round while we can.’’

  Very cautiously, we picked our way over the outer rubble and approached the new fall. It was quite impossible to tell how far the block extended. I listened, but I couldn’t hear anything from the other side. I said, “I wonder what happened to Dancy?’’

  “I think he got away,’’ Mary said. “I heard him give a shout as the roof collapsed, but it seemed to come from a long way off. I think he must have scrambled back when you did.’’

  I nodded, and had another look at the debris. Everything was terribly loose and precarious. When I tried to pull some of the stuff away, more earth came down and filled the gap at once. If we attempted to do any excavating there, the chances were we’d start another fall and bring the rest of the roof down on top of us.

  I crossed to the other block and took a closer look at that. It was a much older one and the earth and props were well compacted. Once again, since the tunnel was completely closed, there was no means of telling how far the block went—but it was certainly in a less dangerous state.

  “We might be able to burrow through here,’’ I said.

  “I’m ready.… Peter, we’ve got to get out now. We’ve simply got to!’’

  “We don’t know what’s on the other side.’’

  “We’ll have to take a chance on that.… Come on, let’s get started.’’

  Very carefully, I began to pull away the earth at the bottom left-hand corner of the fall. It was moist, and by digging my fingers deep into it I was able to drag it away in handfuls. The props at the side of the fall still seemed to be intact. I worked inward from them, gradually scooping out a triangular hole about two feet high at the side and eighteen inches along the bottom. As I pushed the loose earth back, Mary moved it into the tunnel, out of the way. Most of the time we worked in darkness, keeping the torch for examining the hole at intervals. We made good progress at first, burrowing away with desperate intensity, but it was hard on the hands and I didn’t think we’d get far without some sort of tool. In the end Mary took over while I searched around for something to dig with. Most of the small bits of timber lying around were too rotten to be any use, but presently I found a couple of flattish stones in the debris round the other fall. After that we got on faster.

  As we continued to dig, conditions in the hole grew steadily more uncomfortable. The work at the face was terribly exhausting because of the cramped position, and by the time we’d reached a depth of five feet I was having to take frequent rests. To speed things up we organized a system of shifts with ten minutes on and ten minutes off, whoever was shoveling the earth back from the entrance acting as timekeeper. It worked well and we soon developed a smooth rhythm. When we changed over we refreshed ourselves by letting a few drops of water trickle into our mouths from the streaming tunnel roof. It wasn’t much of a restorative but it was better than nothing.

  At six feet I came across an obstacle—a broken roof balk wedged slap across the hole. It was too close to the hard floor to burrow under so I started to scoop the earth away above it. I’d hardly begun when, without any warning
, a weight came down on my head and shoulders, forcing my face into the ground. I gave a muffled yell and flailed wildly with my feet, which was all I could do. With my arms pinned in front of me, it was impossible to wriggle back. The earth seemed to be closing in—I could scarcely breathe. The blood pounded in my head. This, I thought, is it! Then I felt Mary’s hands gripping my ankles and a succession of increasingly desperate tugs that finally drew me back, inch by inch, till I could use my arms once more. I struggled out, spitting earth and feeling pretty shaken.

  “God,’’ I said, “that was a near thing!’’

  Mary’s face was stiff with fright. “You were so heavy I didn’t think I’d be able to move you.… What happened?’’

  “A bit of the roof fell.’’

  “Is it bad?’’

  “It felt pretty bad.’’

  “Shall I take over?’’

  “No, I’ll go back and have a look, first.’’

  I rested a few moments and then went in again with the flashlight to see what the damage was. Actually, it was nothing like as bad as I’d feared. The fall had been a minor one and I soon had the rubble cleared away. It had come from under another jammed beam and as long as that held I didn’t think there’d be another fall in the same spot. I scooped a space between the balks of timber, just large enough to get through, and continued to pass the loose stuff back to Mary. Presently we resumed our shifts.

  There were no more serious incidents, but we seemed as far as ever from a breakthrough. By now we’d been digging for over two hours—my watch showed nearly midnight—and we were so tired that our actions were becoming mechanical. Around one o’ clock we gave up changing places—the hole had grown so deep that we both had to work inside it anyway, so there seemed no point in switching over. We didn’t talk much, except to report progress or trouble. Mostly there was nothing to report at all—we just kept on digging and shifting the earth. The way Mary stuck at it, dogged and uncomplaining, was incredible. I’d never admired her indomitable spirit more.

  By two o’clock we’d penetrated more than twelve feet and we still hadn’t got anywhere. We were both utterly whacked and I was beginning to think we’d had it. We took another short rest out in the tunnel, leaning back against the wall to ease our cramped muscles. The air wasn’t as good as it had been and my head felt thick and heavy. I could easily have given up and drowsed away into a stupor, but Mary roused me and said we must keep going while we could. We crawled back into the hole and I started to scrape away at the face once more. Most of the stuff I’d been hacking out lately had been soft wet clay, but now I’d come to looser stuff again and I was beginning to fear another fall. I dug away cautiously with my flat stone—and suddenly it went through! A draft of cold air blew around my face. I widened the gap and shone the flashlight through it—and there, beyond a pile of rubble, I could see the passage again, intact.

  I twisted my head round and called excitedly to Mary that we’d made it. Then, with infinite care, I pushed out the earth ahead of me until there was enough room for my shoulders to pass through. A moment later I’d wriggled out. I flashed the light back and called to Mary to come. I held my breath as she came elbowing her way through the loose stuff at the end, but she managed it all right. In a few seconds she was standing beside me.

  It was indescribably wonderful to be able to move freely again—but we still hardly dared to hope. This tunnel could easily come to an abrupt end and that would be the end of us too. There might be another roof fall ahead, and neither of us had the strength to do any more burrowing. Indeed, we were so exhausted we could scarcely walk. We set off at a slow, stumbling pace, supporting each other. We’d covered only fifty yards when the tunnel forked again. It didn’t seem to matter much which fork we took. There’d been so many twists since we’d entered the mine that we no longer had the slightest sense of direction. The main thing, obviously, was to keep bearing the same way all the time—then, at least, we shouldn’t lose ourselves entirely and we might be able to work our way round to the entrance again. We chose the left fork and staggered on. After a while we came to yet another fork, and once more we turned left. Almost at once the condition of the passage began to deteriorate. It was nearly as wet as the bit where we’d been trapped. Suddenly I stumbled over something—a loose piece of wood. I switched on the now feeble flashlight and peered ahead. It was what I’d most feared! Immediately in front of us there’d been another fall, and once more the passage was blocked.

  I put my arms round Mary and held her close. The blow was all the worse because at last we’d seemed to be making progress. Now, at the limit of endurance, the thought of retracing our steps and trying to explore the other turnings with a failing light was almost more than we could contemplate. For a moment we stood in despairing silence, clinging to each other. Then the silence was suddenly broken. From just ahead there came a low groan!

  I could hardly believe it. I took a step forward and held the flashlight close to the ground. At first I could see nothing but debris. Then, as I moved the torch, I saw a man’s head. It was Dancy. He was lying on his back at the edge of the rubble, with only his head and shoulders visible. His legs and torso were firmly held by a roof prop and a great heap of earth.

  Even then, I didn’t realize what had happened—not at first. I thought that Dancy must have been caught by a second fall on his way out and that now we were all trapped together. It was Mary who hit on the truth—that this was the original fall, and that we’d worked round to the back of it. That last fork where we’d turned left was the one where, on first entering the mine, we’d turned right. We were only a few hundred yards from the entrance. We were free!

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dancy was conscious, and he kept on groaning, but there was almost nothing we could do for him on our own. He was so firmly held that there wasn’t a chance of extricating him and anyway the roof above him looked as though a touch would bring it down. If he was to be got out alive, a properly equipped rescue party was the only thing. I gave him a few drops of water and told him we’d send help, and we left him.

  The rectangle of pale dawn light at the exit from the mine was the most welcome sight I’d ever seen. Outside, we stopped for a moment to look at each other, exchanging wan smiles of incredulous relief, which was about the sharpest emotion either of us was capable of feeling just then. We were both pretty well all in. Mary’s appearance was terrifying, and mine, I knew, was no better. From head to foot we were completely caked in mud. Our best plan, I thought, was to go straight to the police, who were used to shocks. Somehow we succeeded in dragging ourselves to the car and by concentrating fiercely I managed to keep it on the road for the four miles to Dolgelly.

  There was a gaunt Welsh sergeant in charge of the station. He gaped at us when we staggered in, but once he’d grasped the situation and realized that a man was still trapped in the mine he acted quickly. While the rescue party was being mobilized we told him enough of the background story to make sure that a close eye would be kept on Dancy pending inquiries. A constable fixed us up with some cups of sweet tea and I drew a sketch map showing where Dancy would be found. Then Mary was put in the care of the sergeant’s wife at a cottage a few doors away and I was given a bed in a cell. For the next few hours that was all I wanted.

  I woke just before noon, refreshed and ravenously hungry. Mary, I learned, was already up. Someone got my case from the car and I gave myself as thorough a clean-up as I could manage. Then I walked round to the cottage, where the kindly sergeant’s wife had insisted on preparing lunch for us. Mary had transformed herself and looked more than presentable. She was in such high spirits that she could scarcely contain herself. What she wanted to do, of course, was rush straight back to town and get the wonderful news to her father as quickly as she could, but we had a few things to attend to first. After we’d eaten we went back to the station and had a conference with the Chief Constable and the local C.I.D. people. Dancy, we learned, had been safely brought out of the mi
ne and was now in hospital—fairly battered, but in no danger. We went through our whole story in great detail and it took most of the afternoon. Then we drove back to London.

  For several days after that, things were pretty hectic. It had never occurred to me that as a result of the Dancy business I might get the newspaper story of the year—I’d never been hopeful enough of the outcome—but I’d certainly got it, and now, with an undivided mind, I could set about being a decent reporter again. Apart from getting the story into print there were meetings with high-ups at the Yard and the Home Office that Mary and I had to attend. Things were obviously going to take a bit of sorting out, but Mary and her father had seen the lawyers, and machinery was being set in motion to get him out of prison, by one means or another, at the earliest possible moment. It seemed certain, the lawyers said, that he’d be given a “free pardon’’ as soon as the position had been fully investigated. Mary was indignant at the phrase, but not at anything else. It was wonderful to see her happy again—and in her happiness I fully shared. With luck, I hoped to go on sharing it for a long time!

  It was some days before Dancy was sufficiently recovered from his injuries to be questioned by the police—and then he wouldn’t talk. But they kept plugging away at him, pointing out that after what he’d tried to do to us he hadn’t a leg to stand on, and in the end they got some sort of statement out of him. That, together with what we knew from other sources and what we could reasonably surmise, made it possible to fill in most of the remaining gaps in the case.