by Mark Walker
“See you then, old boy,” shouted Riggs as he grabbed up his torch and went off into the night.
There! Shayne ffellows had caught sight of the little beggars. Now if he could manage to get to them, a swift push would be all it would take! The rain beat hard into his savage face.
Ahead the children could see huge rocks and boulders silhouetted against the strange crackling lightning. They must be at Land’s End! And Shayne ffellows was almost upon them. They climbed across a great skull-like rock. Suddenly, a burst of lightning revealed a large hole directly in front of Michael. Had he not seen it, he would have fallen through. Looking down through the gap they saw a small sheltered ledge, but beyond the ledge, the sea crashed far below them.
The rain was falling hard, the wail of the Lowling Howl whipping in and out of the rocks, and up through the hole. Combined with the pounding surf, it was almost deafening. Along with the Anti-Gravity forces, the wind tore at them, trying to pull them off the slippery rock through the hole, and into the sea! They clung to the edge, but behind them they could see the tall sketchy form of the killer in the slashing rain. He didn’t appear to have seen them, and there was only one place to hide.
They would have climb down through the hole and onto the ledge.
Michael went first, searching desperately for a handhold, or bit of root, but there was nothing. His feet barely reached the ledge, and he gulped for air as he settled his feet down. The sea roared beneath him as he fought to keep his balance and stay on the ledge. He felt about him. The rock seemed to give more shelter to the left, where the ledge receded to a matter of centimeters. But there was nothing else he could do. He called up to the girls, and helped Jen down, then Mandy. They pressed against the rock, along the ledge, as far as they could. But suddenly Jen screamed, and slipped over the edge. Had Michael not been holding her hand, she would have been gone. Mandy grasped her other flailing arm, and together she and Michael hauled her shaking form back onto the ledge. Just as Mandy was regaining her own foothold she looked up, through the hole, as a flash of lightning illuminated Shayne ffellows looming over them!
She cried out in terror.
Kelly Riggs caught sight of his prey ahead in the dim light of his torch. He dashed ahead, sprinting between the rocks. Pulling out the Browning, he shouted a warning at the top of his lungs, but his voice was lost in the storm. There was nary a check in the pace of the strange gangly figure. He was climbing down onto a great boulder. Riggs might lose him amongst the rocks. He fired a warning shot, which sparked off the boulder, but Shayne ffellows kept moving toward the edge.
Riggs leveled his weapon to aim once more, when a huge bolt of lightning split the sky. He pulled the trigger. The Browning spoke but once—then jammed!
3
THEY WERE SURELY DOOMED. Shayne ffellows had them. Terrified, the children peered back through the hole at the looming black shape, the lightning just catching the streaming hair, turned to slick, oily silver against the black and white and grey-etched sky. Triumphantly, Shayne ffellows bared his teeth as he saw them huddled against the wet rock. They were right up against the slippery edge, and Michael pressed harder into the girls, spread-eagled to protect them. The next flash of lightning caught Shayne ffellows’ face full on. His eyes were wide with hate, and he was maneuvering down through the hole! Suddenly a loud explosion sounded in a brilliant flash, and it seemed as though the whole cliff were crashing down around them—as if lightning had struck the rock itself.
The girls screamed as Michael, temporarily blinded, strained to keep his balance and hold them in check. They felt a rush of wind in the confined space of the tiny ledge of rock. But as suddenly as they had felt his sinister presence—it vanished! The children whimpered. The lightning flashed again, only this time to reveal the ledge empty. They looked up, and there was nothing but sky showing through the hole! Seizing the initiative, Michael cried, “Come on, let’s get out while we can!” He grabbed first Jen, then Mandy, and helped them up the steep slick wall of rock, and out through the hole. Then it was the girls’ turn to help Michael, nearly losing him twice. They tumbled onto the rock, exhausted, and still shaking with fear. But instantly they were heartened, by the sight of Inspector Riggs and Sergeant Bellows hurrying toward them, and only then they knew for sure they were safe. That they knew, but what had become of Shayne ffellows?
The storm had temporarily abated, the rain turning to fine mist. As Riggs, Bellows, and the children made their way back across the moor toward the tin mine, they began to see flashes of light out at sea. It was the signal!
“Look! It’s the Amanda Lee! Let’s hurry to the mine!” Riggs took off on the run, with Bellows moving along behind with surprising alacrity. The children trailed along, having difficulty keeping up with the ‘tecs for a change. They reached the mine, and could clearly see the ship now, the wind beginning to whip up again. Then as they watched, they saw an answering flash from the hidden cave, almost directly beneath them! They hurried to the entrance to the mine, descending carefully, and picked their way as far as they could go due to the rising water. Suddenly, the Lowling Howl screamed through the openings in the crumbling old building and they grasp each other to keep from slipping, pressing against the walls to the front windows. The small beach below them had completely disappeared, and the sea was now crashing almost to the first floor of the mine. From their vantage point at a third-floor window, they could just see the entrance of the cave. It began raining hard again.
The ship was struggling to hold steady in the burgeoning gale and AG forces, visibly floating high amidships, but the signal light stayed amazingly steady. It flashed toward the cove, unaware that the man it signaled was not one of theirs. Shayne ffellows had possession of a skiff, loaded with as much treasure as he could manage, and was casting off the lines! The current was terrible—it was madness to try in the storm—yet the desperate character was risking everything to get away with a handful of the riches. Riggs, Bellows and the children strained to hold on, as they watched the skiff emerge from the cave. Yet no greater gulf could have existed between them than that roiling, charging twenty-five meters of rock and sea. Riggs and Bellows trained their electric torches on the skiff as best they could. They were covered with foam and spray, the pounding surf blasting up below them. The rain was biting, and needle sharp, the lightning cracking overhead.
Astounded, they watched as below, two black heads emerged from the churning water, the lightning flashing off their glass facemasks. Divers, from the ship! How on earth! They were almost upon the rocking boat, Shayne ffellows fighting to manage it. Now, he lost control as he yanked one of the oars out of its guide, and struck out at diver on his left, but by then the other was grasping at the right side of the boat. He shook off the left-hand diver, and using a heavy coil of rope, fouled the attempts of the other. Both divers seemed to be pulled into the frothing mass of waves and disappear. Gaining control of the skiff again, ffellows began frantically rowing again, making for the channel between the rocks.
Now they were able to see down into the skiff, and behind Shayne ffellows there were several small suitcases and travel cases—and something else—the PUFF Pack! He must have found it on the motorcycle and used it to fly from there down into the cave. He’d divided the treasure into small enough units that it could be easily transported. The sodden group of spectators watched helplessly from the mine at the surreal scene before them. The waves bucketed and pitched the little craft, sitting almost atop the waves. In the mist and loam, fish were floating on the service, some actually flying through the air from the wind, and AG activity.
“He’s getting away!” called Michael.
“We must do something!” cried Mandy.
“There’s nothing we can do,” replied a dejected Riggs, cursing the useless Browning automatic in his pocket. Riggs felt sick that Shayne ffellows might escape with three murders on his hands, let alone some of the treasure. The ship continued to light his way with the signal lamp. Riggs reflected
it might be bad for Mr. ffellows after they got him onboard, yet he might still make another spectacular getaway.
Then, to their astonishment, out of the mouth of the cave ten meters behind Shayne ffellows, they saw a pale blur in the water, and Riggs and Bellows trained their torches on—the figure of Digger Graves! He must have somehow got through the tunnel to what was left of the landing. He was naked to the waist, swimming, impossibly swimming, his body seemingly riding on top of a board or plank of some kind, his legs kicking behind. They could see the powerful arms and shoulders covered with tats, glinting, straining in the flashing light. He seemed propelled in some fashion, though no motor was apparent—none except the physical motor of bone and sinew and neurons—blind with madness, with but a single purpose.
He was gaining at an extraordinary rate on the little skiff with the treasure and Shayne ffellows, undoubtedly aided by the AG, which had yet to clear the rocks and reefs. They watched, mesmerized, as the tattooed streaking form of Digger Graves closed in on the skiff. Shayne ffellows never realized the pirate was upon him until Graves clambered over the side and leapt into the boat. By then, the skiff was just through the rocks and almost into open sea, but Digger Graves was so exhausted he could not finish off his prey!
In his desperation to catch the ship, Shayne ffellows temporarily ignored the heaving, straining form behind him. The storm was worsening, and the ship could barely hold on, but agonizingly, he narrowed the gap, closing in on it. A hoist was swung out to try and catch the skiff, and they could see Shayne ffellows endeavoring to reach it.
He appeared to be struggling with something in the boat. Digger Graves? No, now Riggs could see—ffellows was endeavoring to put on the PUFF Pack harness and fly the rest of the way to the ship! He must be completely mad to try it! The boat was rocking violently, but he barely managed to stand, and had a small bag in his hand. He couldn’t possibly hope to manage a bag and navigate the PUFF Pack at the same time! But in an instant, he lifted off, and up into the air. They watched, jaws agape as he fluttered jaggedly through the pouring rain toward the ship.
Then suddenly, a miracle happened: A jagged bolt of lightning erupted through the bloated clouds, and they watched in horror as Shayne ffellows literally disintegrated in a shower of sparks. Then, almost simultaneously another lightning bolt struck the Amanda Lee squarely amidships, and Riggs, Bellows, and the children shrank from the brilliant light. The engine room exploded, taking with it the little skiff, and Digger Graves. The Amanda Lee quickly vanished in a sheet of fire beneath the icy waves.
Of her crew none was ever found. Of that part of the treasure, none was ever found. And of Shayne ffellows, none was ever heard again, for the body of the wretched young man was never recovered.
Epilogue
THE NEXT DAY DAWNED TO A THICK FOG, but the generator had been put right, electricity was restored, and there seemed little damage to the inn. After first light, a small cadre of Eel’s Cove folk, led by Constable Croft, which included Mr. Skinner, the mayor, the greengrocer’s assistant and the local banker and his son, came to check on the inn’s inhabitants, using a loudhailer to call across to them from the land side.
In short order they had assisted the men on the rock—Tom Melville, Dinky Potter, Riggs, and Bellows in forming a temporary patch across the bridge, so the land was again accessible. A doctor had been called for Flora Phipps, and as soon as the bridge was spanned, he arrived, and set about tending to her. The fog was burning off, and Tom Melville was eager to get after the enormous quantities of fish that he had caught, and those that had been thrown onto the rock by the storm and AG activity. The banker was particularly interested in any damage that might affect Dinky Potter’s ability to repay his loan, and he and his son set about double-checking the inn’s exterior. Fortunately, other than the bridge, there was little damage to the Roundhouse itself, which had held up as admirably, as it had for the past two centuries. Constable Croft joined Riggs and Bellows inside, where he was filled in on the night’s events.
That morning the atmosphere of the inn, after the strain of the past few days, seemed almost ebullient, expertly expressed by an ecstatic Dinky Potter, who would say over and over, “I still can’t believe it! Why, we’ve been sitting on top of the treasure all along!” Even Delia was almost herself, after having been so hurt and betrayed the day before. A cheery Doris Potter managed to create a platter-full of small sandwiches and served tea, and the banker and his son joined them. The children were worried about Flora Phipps, but mostly couldn’t stop talking about watching Shayne ffellows blow up, and the ship exploding. Only Kendra Danes seemed somewhat restrained, and without her usual banter, almost wistful.
The doctor returned downstairs from checking Flora Phipps, reporting the patient was awake, and assured everyone she would make a full recovery, having suffered a mild concussion, and a couple of bruises and scratches. “The patient just needs some rest. Her sister is with her now. I suspect she’ll be up and about later this afternoon. A spot of tea and some food will put her right as rain again. It looks like the fog may clear off later, and some fresh air couldn’t hurt either.”
Constable Croft enlisted the help of the doctor to convey a message back to the undertaker that there were three bodies that would need to be removed and autopsied. The doctor made his goodbyes, promising to return that evening, and the banker and his son (who was particularly attentive to Delia) accompanied him back to Eel’s Cove.
They were still gathered in the Great Room when Kendra Danes came down the stairs, violin case in hand. She already had her coat and scarf on. “Now that the bridge is repaired, I was thinking of going into town.”
Kelly Riggs stood and asked, “With your violin?”
“Oh, I thought I’d look for some strings in town.”
“Why don’t you play us a tune this morning now that everything’s over with?” he asked broadly and somewhat pointedly.
“Oh, yes, yes, play! Play!” cried the children.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I don’t really feel like playing much today.”
“Oh, but really—I insist,” Riggs, said.
Before she could react, he took the case from her.
“Umm, rather heavy. My, my, what are they making Stradivarius’ of these days, anyway—gold?”
He set the case down heavily where it “clunked” on the long table.
His eyes were steely as he unlatched each catch—one, two, three.
“Care to open it yourself? Well, I rather thought not.”
He raised the lid of the case and the light reflected off the contents of gold doubloons, silver coins, rings, necklaces, and stones.
On the top was a familiar pendant—Flora Phipps’ crystal!
The children gasped, and Fauna Phipps cried in horror.
Kendra Danes clasped her hands together and looked at the tips of her shoes.
“You see, Miss Danes, I found it interesting that you were here at all, I mean a violinist, even if you don’t play Second Fiddle, with the Royal Philharmonic, wouldn’t have time to escort three children out of London, what with rehearsals and all. And I found it odd too, that instead of playing classical tunes, almost everything you’ve played has been a popular number—Minnie the Moocher, I mean really… then there was the closeness in proximity of the Royal College of Art and the Royal College of Music. So, I did some checking with London, and got my answers back fairly quickly. The Royal Philharmonic hasn’t got a violinist or anyone else named Kendra Danes; but the College of Music does or did have a student by that name. And you could have easily met another student from the art school when you were there.
“And there is an old music hall and variety theatre near the Royal Albert Hall—the Royal Follies I believe, and they had a member of their small orchestra suddenly take off without notice—a Miss Danes I believe.
“Then there was that little incident on the beach—not exactly the behavior of your usual posh, high-tone, well-to-do, upper class girl, whose father�
�s a well-known industrialist.”
“It didn’t seem to bother you too much, Inspector,” said Kendra acidly. Then she inhaled suddenly, and her emerald-sapphire eyes flashed, “So you knew then? Why…”
“Let’s say, I suspected then, but I didn’t know until yesterday, when I got the final confirmation from London.” Kelly Riggs began to pace slowly up and down the room. “Besides, most any girl would be excited to go treasure hunting, yet you weren’t all that keen on going. I didn’t exactly have to drag you, but it was just another small chink in your performance. What I suspect is that whole episode was designed to lead me away from the inn and Shayne ffellows, in which you succeeded: But only too well, since it led me to the cave, and to discover the secret of the tin mine, and the entrance to the tunnels. I have to admit, you did handle the finding of the map quite well, and the skeleton too—it did make me almost second-guess myself for a moment.
“What I’m still not sure of is, why you came to my defense last night, when the pirates attacked.
“So, how about it?”
Kendra Danes sighed.
“Well, I’m not sure what came over me. I guess I was weak. Like on the beach,” she added pointedly. Then she addressed the room, “Yes, Scotland Yard here is right, of course. I knew Shayne from school, and we were together from the start,” her emerald and sapphire eyes flicked momentarily, “I’m sorry Delia, dear, but it’s always been that way.” Delia took in her breath. “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. Yes, it was always Shayne and I, from the very beginning. Then he came back out here, and got this construction job, and stumbled onto the treasure. He sent me a letter in London, all about finding a diary and a map, and came up with his mad scheme. I suppose it was, although it sounded so romantic, and the way he played the pirates was so brilliant… or at least it seemed so at the time. We kept in touch, and he told me he’d send for me when the time was right. I’d set myself up with this nanny-gig, and I knew old man Prescott had a trip out this way, so it was easy for me to steer him sideways and get us installed here. The timing was perfect. Well, almost. Until the handsome ‘Yard Dog’ here showed up.”