by Paul Somers
“Yes, I see.… Actually, how were you going to manage the exchange—I should think it could have been a pretty tricky operation. Were you going to trust each other?”
“We certainly weren’t! Barr and I had worked out all the details with the minutest care, so that both parties would be safeguarded and neither would have a chance to cheat the other.”
“May we hear them?” Mollie said.
“Well, Clara was to arrive first, at a quarter to eight, and join me down here. Barr was to come at half-past eight, bringing with him the letter and the gun in a parcel. On arrival at the top of the cavern he was to draw up the ladder and lower the parcel on the rope. Clara and I were to inspect the contents and satisfy ourselves that they were in order. Barr would know that we would have to let him have the money then, because otherwise he could take the ladder away with him, and though I could probably have climbed the rock face to the other passage, Clara couldn’t. So he was safe. Having satisfied ourselves, we were to send the suitcase up on the rope. Barr was then to lower the ladder. We could rely on him doing that because he knew that if I had to I could get out on my own. So both sides were covered.”
“Very ingenious!” I said. “And what was going to happen after that?”
“Barr was to take the money to his car, which he’d have left not far away on the moors, and drive back to London, and hide the suitcase in the loft of his garage. Clara was to follow him out of here and go back to the hotel in Castleton and wait there for my arrival. Around ten I was to join her there, saying the kidnappers had released me, and telling the detailed story I’d prepared.… Afterwards, if all went well, Barr was to fade quietly out of Clara’s life, and eventually go abroad.”
“To South America,” Barr said. “And what an attractive prospect it was!”
“Well,” Landon said, “the plan went wrong, as you know, because you and Miss Bourne followed Clara and were led to the pothole by my footmarks”
“Something else went wrong, didn’t it?” I said. “Oughtn’t Clara to have been down here when I found you?”
Landon said quietly, “She was here.”
I stared at him.
“She arrived here punctually at a quarter to eight.… She was a bit worried because of the disturbing incident with Miss Bourne on the drive up the previous day, but of course she’d no idea she’d been followed to the moor. We sat talking about things, and waiting for Barr. Then your magnesium flare suddenly went off, and you called out, and Clara recognised your voice.… It was a frightful shock.”
I could well believe it!
“I had to cope quickly with the new situation. I sent Clara back up the ladder and told her to pull it up behind her and wait at the top. I took my shoes off and hid them in my sleeping-bag and put slippers on instead so there could be no question of my climbing out with you at once. I pushed the suitcase well down under the pile of stores so that it couldn’t be seen—and I made myself look as dirty and dishevelled as possible.…”
“It was quite an act,” I said, regarding him wonderingly.
“I had to do it, Curtis. Once you start these things you have to go through with them—and I thought I could see a way out. I knew Barr should be approaching the pothole at that moment—we’d agreed to keep to a strict time schedule. If I could get you and your companion to go for the police, I reckoned that Barr should be safely inside the tunnel before you reached the exit, and you’d miss him. Then there would be time for the exchange to be made and for Clara and Barr to get clear away before you returned. I couldn’t be certain things would go smoothly, but it was the only hope. First, though, I had to convince you that while I was anxious to leave with you by the way you’d come, I couldn’t. I’m afraid that was another act. I gave the impression of being so weak, as well as shoeless, that you naturally wouldn’t hear of it—and you went off to get help.”
“He’d make a good scoutmaster!” Barr said.
“Up to a point, all went well,” Landon continued. “Barr was already in the tunnel, and he joined us on time. I told him what had happened, and we quickly concocted a story he could tell in case he and Clara ran into your rescue party on their way out. Then we made the exchange according to plan. Barr lowered the parcel, and Clara identified the gun.…”
I interrupted him. “The gun had been unloaded, I take it …?”
“What do you think!” Barr said sardonically.
“Oh, yes,” Landon said, “it was part of the safeguard plan that Barr should remove the undischarged cartridges before he brought it down.… When we were satisfied, we tied the suitcase to the rope and Barr hauled it up and lowered the ladder and started back along the tunnel. Clara went off after him. I burned the letter and hid the gun in a rock fissure behind my stores where no one would be likely to find it after my ‘rescue.’ I also found a safe hiding place for my shoes, because I’d told you the kidnappers had taken them away. I made sure that nothing whatever would be found that wasn’t compatible with my having been genuinely kidnapped. Then I waited. If you hadn’t come back into the tunnel, I think the plan would have succeeded after all.… By the way, why didn’t you carry on and fetch the police?”
I told him about the missing boiler-suit and helmet. “Ah!—yes, I’m afraid I overlooked that.… Well, there it is—you know the rest.… There’s just one other thing I’d like to say, though. I realise I’ve behaved in a way that must seem to you quite fantastic and wholly reprehensible—but each man answers to his own conscience, and mine won’t trouble me. In the situation I was in, I’d do the same thing again. I don’t believe that any father with any normal feelings would willingly risk having his daughter hanged for murder if there was anything he could do to prevent it. But that doesn’t mean I had any illusions about Clara—or about what might have happened to her afterwards. I hoped that if we pulled off this tremendous gamble, she might be able to salvage some sort of a life for herself from the wreckage. But I always doubted it. It’s quite possible she did intend to kill Angel. I don’t think she could ever have been really happy again. I think it’s better that I failed, and that she died… ”
Chapter Nineteen
There was a heavy silence after he’d finished. It was, indeed, a fantastic story—a story so removed from ordinary experience that any kind of judgment seemed irrelevant. Genius, they said, was akin to madness—and Landon’s behaviour, if not mad, had certainly been wildly abnormal. Happily, we didn’t have to pass any judgment. For Mollie and me, the only thing that mattered now—apart from making sure that Barr got his deserts—was to get out of this cavern alive and find a telephone and put over what was undoubtedly going to be a sensational front-page splash.
When and whether we’d be able to do that seemed, at the moment, distinctly moot. Barr, with a prospective prison sentence stretching ahead of him to infinity, obviously wasn’t going to let any of us go free to tell the news if he could help it—and that ugly-looking knife still gave him the edge on us. A concerted rush by Landon and myself would probably overpower him, but that knife could kill, and Barr had already shown himself a potential killer. Rushing on cold steel in cold blood wasn’t exactly a beckoning prospect.
At the same time, Barr himself was in a pretty weak position. If he forced the issue by attacking us, one of us would be sure to get him. If he didn’t, he looked like being here for a long while. With the tunnel blocked, and the other passage approachable only up a rock face that he hadn’t the skill to climb, he had no way of escape. Even when the tunnel was clear he’d never be able to go up that ladder as long as we were free to swing it from below. We seemed to have reached a deadlock and I couldn’t see how it was going to be broken—unless Barr did something rash. That was the danger.
Mollie tried reasoning with him. She said quietly, “You know, Barr, you might just as well give up—you haven’t a hope of getting away with this. You can’t possibly deal with us all—and sooner or later we’re going to be found here. Three people have disappeared from Castleton—and you
r car’s out there on the moor to show a search party where to start looking. It’s merely a question of time. And if you’ve used that knife when we’re found, you’ll only get a heavier sentence still.”
It was a good effort—but not good enough. The fact was that even if a search party thought of potholes, the whole district was studded with them and it might take weeks for the searchers to find us. Still, I backed her up, as forcefully as I could. “She’s right, Barr,” I said, “you haven’t a chance. You can’t get away. If you start anything, you’re bound to get hurt. You’d be much wiser to hand over that knife and call it a day.”
He grinned. “If you two feel like going on talking” he said, “do by all means.… Personally I intend to have something to eat.”
He got up, with the knife defensively poised, and backed away to Landon’s food store behind the tent. I couldn’t see him very well, but I could hear the rustle of paper. I looked around—perhaps while he was out of the way I could find some weapon.… But everything useful was behind the tent. There was an uneasy silence, broken only by the faint hiss of the pressure stove. I wondered what the stove would be like as a weapon. I lifted it experimentally. It was very unwieldy—certainly no match for a knife. It seemed to be going out, and I started to pump it. The container must have been empty, for with a final hiss the flame died. I was just going to ask Landon where the fuel was when I heard a fresh sound—a faint click that stirred old memories. I sprang up in alarm.
“The gun!” I cried. “Landon, I believe he’s found the gun!”
“It’s not loaded,” Landon said. “I looked—it was empty.”
“It’s being loaded …! Quick!” I took a step towards the tent—but I was too late. At that moment Barr came out from behind it, pointing the gun. He must have had the unused bullets in his pocket all the time. I turned and took a flying kick at the paraffin lamp. It went up into the air and dropped with a crash and the light went out. At once the darkness in the cave was blacker than night. I grabbed Mollie and pulled her down to the floor and we retreated on hands and knees out of the alcove and into the main cavern. Over on my right, I could hear Landon working his way back, too. Presently we stopped to listen. Barr was still in the alcove. He seemed to be searching among the stores again.
I called out, “Landon!—how many bullets does the chamber hold?”
“Five.” His voice, calm and steady, came from some yards away to the right.
I thought quickly. It wasn’t likely that Barr would have had any bullets with him except those he’d taken out of the gun. Two had been fired. That still left him with one for each of us—but it meant he couldn’t afford to waste one. He’d have to come close and make sure of his aim before he fired. That might give us a chance.
Suddenly a light flickered on. Somewhere in that dump of equipment Barr had found a torch. That altered things again. It wasn’t a very bright light, but with the gun it gave him complete control of the situation. He was flashing it around the alcove. Presently he came out. He was moving very cautiously—we could be anywhere in that vast place, and he’d lost track of us. He began to work his way to and fro across the cavern, shining the light all round him, making sure that his rear and flanks were safe. As he criss-crossed, he slowly advanced.
My spirits sank. I didn’t see how he could fail to hunt us down in the end if he kept going. But it would take time. There were too many obstructions in his path, too many places of concealment for us—particularly at the sides of the cave, where the stalagmite grew like a forest. We continued our retreat, over the shallow stream and back across the open floor towards the rock face where I’d climbed down. I couldn’t hear Landon any more. I hoped he wasn’t trying to slip by behind Barr, or he’d surely be found.
If only I had some weapon! I kicked hard at a piece of stalagmite and it snapped off. It was about an inch in diameter and a foot long, with a fairly sharp point. It was very light and brittle, but better than nothing. I gave it to Mollie, and broke another piece off for myself.
Mollie whispered urgently, “What’s the plan?”
I said, “Pray that he misses!”
We continued to go back. There wasn’t much farther we could go now. But at least we were deep among the stalagmite, and it would give us some cover, as well as slowing Barr.
I looked cautiously out. Barr was still criss-crossing the floor. He was out now in the emptiest part of the cavern—the least obstructed, and the widest. Suddenly there was a noise on his left. He swung the torch. It was Landon, doubling back close to the wall, trying to take him in the rear. There was a flash, and an ear-splitting report. Landon gave a ghastly yell, staggered out into the open, dropped to his knees, rolled over once, and lay still. It had all happened so fast I hadn’t even had time to move.
Barr took a perfunctory look at the crumpled remains of Landon. Then the little pool of light began to advance again. He’d got to finish us now—for what he’d done, he’d hang, anyway. Massacre was his only hope. I reached out and found Mollie’s hand. “I guess this is it,” I said softly. “I’ll try and rush him when he gets close. Join in if you get the chance.” I felt the pressure of her hand in return. It was like a farewell. I peered again through the stalagmite rods. Barr was coming on in a slightly crouching position. He must know he had us cornered. I couldn’t see a ray of hope.
Then, suddenly, I froze. The corpse of Landon was moving. Not just showing signs of life, but moving like a man unhurt, on all fours, on hands and silent, stockinged feet, up behind Barr. He’d only been shamming dead! Hope surged back. We still had a chance—and it was now or never. I sprang up and rushed into the open cave, weaving and zigzagging. Barr saw me, fired at me, and missed. I kept going, shouting like a maniac to drown any sound from behind him. Landon was almost there. He was there. He was on Barr’s back like a panther, trying to drag him down. But he hadn’t the weight or the strength. Barr flung him off and cracked the butt of the gun on his head as he fell. As he steadied himself to fire at me again I hurled my piece of stalagmite in his face and dived for his legs. He went over with a crash as I sprawled into him—but he still had the gun. I scrambled on top of him, fighting to hold his wrist down. He was bashing at me savagely with his free hand. He was immensely strong. The hand with the gun began to come up. I was concentrating so hard on the gun I couldn’t guard my face. I had to keep the gun down. Then Mollie was there, primitive as they come, jabbing the sharp end of her stalagmite rod into his arm with all her strength. He gave a yell of pain and his fingers loosed their grip on the gun. Mollie grabbed it. Now I had two hands free and things were different. I struggled up and so did Barr. His face was distorted with rage in the faint torch glow. He lashed out wildly and missed me. For a second that rugged chin of his stuck out just a shade too far. I gathered all my weight and hit it fair and square on the point and followed through. He crashed down among the limestone debris and didn’t move again.
I gasped, “Thanks, Mollie!” and picked up the torch. She was already bending over Landon. He was sitting up, holding his head, but he wasn’t seriously damaged. By a miracle, we’d all come through alive. That brilliant sham—his last act, and his best—had saved us.
Chapter Twenty
We lashed Barr up with the rope when he came round and he didn’t give any further trouble. Mollie ministered to our minor injuries very competently—next to starting a fight, there was nothing she could do better than tend the wounded! We spent most of the night in the cavern—I didn’t feel like scaling the rock face again, and it was after five before the tunnel was sufficiently free of water for me to get through. Then I went down to the road and rang for help. By seven o’clock the moor was so crowded with policemen it looked as though they were on manœuvres. By nine, they’d got everyone out of the pothole, and we were all driven off to the local station to make statements. Barr and Landon were naturally kept there. I felt sorry for Landon, on many counts, but of course there could be no simple way out for him. He’d have to face the music, a
nd it was going to be quite an orchestra. All the same, I had a feeling the judge would make all possible allowances for him when the time came, and that meanwhile he’d be working his passage home, back on the job at Crede. Whatever he’d done, he was too valuable a man to waste.
A few of the police stayed behind at the pothole to search for Clara’s body. Others took charge of the thirty thousand pounds. Mollie and I were finally allowed to go back to the hotel. I rang Grant and gave him an account of the tremendous happenings, and Mollie rang the Courier. Then we both went to work on our stories. By the time we’d phoned them, the first London reporters were beginning to arrive in Castleton and we decided to slip away before they started to take us apart. I’d have liked to drive Mollie back in the Riley, but she said the hire people would be wanting the Zephyr. I went out into the drive with her. As I closed the door of her car she leaned out, smiling.
“Well—it was quite a hunch, wasn’t it?”
“It was, wonder girl!”
“I couldn’t have done anything without you, though.”
I gave an ironical bow. “Very generous of you!” I said.
“Honestly, Hugh, I thought you were marvellous.”
“Good! Just try and hold that!”
She laughed. “What are you going to do when you get back to town?”
“Have a good sleep,” I said.
“So am I—but afterwards?”
“What do you suggest?”
“If you cared to come round to the flat about nine I could make you some coffee.”
I said, “This is where I came in.… What about those chances you’d be taking?”
She gave me a charming smile. “This time,” she said, “perhaps I’ll really be in the mood!”