by Tim Ellis
Quigg wandered over to the middle of the cavern and helped himself to two torches from an open box. ‘Come on, Walsh. And you should let go of that ladder before your hand turns black and drops off.’
‘I’m having second thoughts about being your partner, Sir.’
‘Too late for that, Walsh. You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it.’
***
Walsh caught up with him and took the second torch. They made their way through the archway leading from the cavern and found themselves in a tunnel.
‘What do you make it of it all, Sir?’
‘Have you got no thoughts of your own? You tell me what you make of it instead of stealing my ideas.’
Walsh laughed. ‘You haven’t got any ideas, have you?’
‘I have the idea that next week you’ll be wearing a uniform and be knee-deep in abuse from the general public.’
After twenty feet they came to another cavern, but this one was different from the one they’d left because it was twice as large, and had twelve tunnels leading to and from it. They moved to the middle of the chamber and shuffled round with open mouths at the size of it.
‘This could be the centre,’ Walsh said.
‘The centre of what?’
She shrugged.
‘Which one do you want to explore?’ Quigg asked her.
Her eyes opened wide as she turned first left, and then right. ‘Which one did we come out of, Sir? Oh God, we’re lost already.’
‘You should have brought a ball of golden twine with you. Stop panicking, I know exactly where we are.’ He pointed to a tunnel. ‘We came out of that one.’
‘You’re just making it up, aren’t you? I bet you have no idea which one we came out of.’
‘I’ll wait here, you go back and check I’m telling the truth.’
‘You know I’m not going to go back there on my own.’
‘Well, stop whining then. Which one?’
She pointed to an opening. ‘They all look the same to me.’
They set off along the tunnel Walsh had pointed to, and met two white-suited forensic officers coming the other way. Both still wore their hoods and masks.
‘Are you two mapping the complex?’ Quigg asked.
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Show me what you’ve got so far?’
The smaller of the two held a large sketchbook in front of Quigg. In the centre of the page was a circle with twelve tunnels emanating from it, and a square at the end of some of the tunnels.
The female said, ‘As far as we can tell up to now, that’s the middle.’
‘Yes, but the middle of what?’ Quigg said again. ‘It looks like the hub of a wheel, and these tunnels are the spokes.’
‘We’ve been down seven tunnels so far. They’re all the same length, and the cavern at the end of each tunnel is the same size and design as all the others.’
‘You’ve not found an exit?’
‘No, not yet, Sir.’
Walsh bent over, put her hands on her thighs, and started taking gulps of air again.
‘Will you stop that, Walsh.’
‘We’re never going to get out of here.’
‘I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t leave you here.’
‘You wouldn’t?’
‘Only because the Chief would notice we were a detective missing.’
She stood up straight again. ‘I’m going to put in a transfer request.’
‘Request refused. Now come on. I’d like to find a way out of here, so that we can get some lunch.’ He checked his watch. ‘Look at the time already, it’s twenty past two. No wonder I can’t stop thinking about food.’
They carried on along the corridor, and as the forensic officers had said, the cavern they came to was of a similar size to the previous one. Also, like the other one, there were cones of skulls dotted around the floor, and devices used for torture.
‘What do you think this is used for, Walsh?’ Quigg said standing beside a life-size metal cast of a bull, but where the back should have been, there was a lockable lid similar to a coffin.
‘I don’t want to know.’
‘You’re no fun today. It looks like it might be for slowly burning people alive. It’s all fire-blackened on the outside.’
‘Can we go now? It’s creepy in here, and it stinks.’
They made their way back to the central hub.
‘We’ll try one more, but if we can’t find the exit we’ll have to go back and climb that ladder.’
Walsh pulled a face. ‘I don’t fancy doing that.’
‘I’ll be behind you.’
‘That’s what worries me.’
‘So, how’s it going with that Inspector Robert Muchamore? You’ve been seeing him for quite a while now, haven’t you?’
Walsh didn’t answer.
‘I see, you’re going to let me use my imagination?’
‘You do whatever you feel is necessary, Sir. You could put me in one of those torture machines, and I still wouldn’t tell you about my private life.’
‘You’re a spoilsport, Walsh. So, which tunnel now?’
‘I don’t know. It’s no good going in the ones the forensics people have already been in, is it?’
‘That’s what the chalk marks are for.’ He pointed to chalked numbers and an arrow on the stone indicating which arch they had been in.
‘Oh, I didn’t see them. Well, let’s go in that one then,’ she said pointing to a tunnel with no chalk number and arrow on the stone archway.
‘Your wish is my command.’
At the entrance they felt a slight breeze on their faces.
‘I think you might have won the jackpot, Walsh.’
As they came to the end of the tunnel they heard a noise in the cavern.
Quigg directed his torch beam towards the noise. He expected to see the two white-suited forensic officers, but instead it was a man in dark clothes.
‘Hey you,’ he shouted.
The man froze for a second, and then darted through an arched opening at the other side of the cavern.
‘Stop, police.’ he shouted after the fleeing figure, but the man didn’t stop.
Quigg and Walsh raced across the cavern and chased the man through the second archway. Walsh was sprightlier, and managed to nip in front of him. The breeze on their faces had grown stronger and fresher.
They heard a loud explosion, followed by a rumbling sound, and stopped.
‘Back,’ Quigg said, but it was too late to move forwards or backwards.
The tunnel collapsed on top of them.
He was lying on his back. His mouth was dry and full of grit. It was completely dark. His torch must be buried under the rubble. In fact, so was he.
‘Walsh, are you all right?’
There was no answer.
‘Come on, Walsh, don’t play games. I promise I won’t ask you about what you get up to in bed with Inspector Muchamore. Just grunt to let me know you’re in one piece.’
Walsh didn’t answer – grunt or otherwise.
He wondered if he was still in one piece, and began to explore his arms and legs. They appeared to be unbroken. He felt about him, and found rocks large and small surrounded him.
‘Walsh, don’t think you can hide from me. I’m coming to get you, and if I find you’re playing hide and seek with me, well...’ He clambered up so that he was on all-fours and began to crawl in the direction he thought Walsh had gone.
Then he heard a groan.
‘Walsh?’
‘I must be in hell if you’re here as well.’
‘And to think I was worried about you.’
‘You were?’
‘No, not really. I’m more concerned for that torch you were carrying, someone’s going to have to pay for that if you’ve broken it.’
‘Thanks, Sir.’
‘Well, what’s the damage?’
‘I don’t know where the torch is.’
‘Don’t be stupid, Walsh.’
‘I think my left arm and my right leg are broken.’
‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘It doesn’t feel very nice either.’
He finally reached Walsh’s location, and began feeling for her.
‘Hey!’
‘Sorry, accident. Nice firm breasts though.’
‘You’re a lost cause, Sir.’
She held on tight to his hand in the darkness. ‘Do you think they’ll find us?’
‘They will have heard the explosion and the cave-in.’
‘But they don’t know we’re here.’
‘When we don’t re-appear, Perkins will connect the dots.’
‘I hope so, I think my leg is bleeding.’
‘You always have to be the centre of attention, don’t you, Walsh?’
Chapter Three
‘Has Quigg rung you?’ Duffy asked Ruth.
She had wandered through the atrium and into Ruth’s half of the church, which was a mirror image of her own half – through the numerous rooms to get to Ruth’s workroom. Duffy didn’t use this particular room in her half as a workroom; she used it to store her collection of cabbage patch dolls.
Ruth was on the computer typing up an article for syndication. ‘No, he has not phoned me. He does not care that we love him. He does not care that we are having his babies. He does...’
‘There must be a problem,’ Duffy interrupted her. ‘He would have rung if he was going to be late, and he’s not answering his mobile. I’ll ring the station to see if they know anything.’
The Duty Sergeant diverted her to Chief Bellmarsh’s phone. ‘Constable Duffy, this is Chief Bellmarsh.’
‘I’m trying to find out where DI Quigg has got to.’
‘We’ve lost him for the moment.’
‘Lost him?’
‘Don’t worry, we’ve got a team searching for him and DC Walsh as we speak.’
‘I don’t understand.’
The Chief told Duffy what had happened as far as he knew it, and that he’d keep her informed of any progress.
‘We have to go,’ she said to Ruth. She told Ruth everything Chief Bellmarsh had said to her.
‘Oh God, our children will be born orphans.’
‘Come on, get your coat,’ Duffy said. ‘I’ll drive.’
They left the compound in Ruth’s car.
Rafael Valdes – the gate guard – was sitting in his security building and let them out. He then made a phone call on his mobile.
‘We didn’t tell Lucy where we were going,’ Ruth said.
‘Lucy is more than capable of looking after herself,’ Duffy replied.
***
After he’d received the call from Rafael Valdes – his inside man at Quigg’s Fort as he’d come to think of it – Bartholomew rang Jax Whiteley. He wasn’t keen on the name Jax. In fact, he had no idea whether it was a proper name or a nickname. If it was a nickname, he didn’t know what it was meant to signify. Although he wasn’t really bothered what his fixer was called, just so long as he fixed things.
‘Get someone in there. I want that hacker killed.’ He had transferred £100,000 into Mr Valdes’ bank account and told him to disappear. Bartholomew had left him in no doubt what would happen to him should Quigg find and subsequently question him.
‘Leave it with me, Sir,’ Whiteley said.
‘Phone me when it’s done.’
It was as simple as that. Being the Chairman of Hammersmith and Fulham’s Police Complaints Committee certainly had its advantages if you needed people of dubious character to do certain jobs that required people of dubious character.
Not only did Sir Peter Langham collect rare first editions, and other antique artefacts, but he also collected films. These were films of young girls doing certain things to older men. He kept these films on a number of encrypted memory sticks in a secret hiding place in his study.
He was dressed ready for bed in his silk pyjamas and dressing gown. There would be another long day of police complaints to review tomorrow. He sat back in his leather Captain’s chair and re-started the film he’d been watching on his computer when Mr Valdes had rung. His penis had returned to its natural shrivelled state, but now, as he watched the film and began to massage the flaccid member, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he could go to bed satisfied – at least for the moment.
***
‘You haven’t got a ham sandwich or a full English in a pocket that you forgot to tell me about have you?’
‘I feel light-headed.’
‘That’ll be the loss of blood. Don’t worry, you’ve got eight pints of the stuff. They’ll find us before you run out.’
He had a light on his watch. It wasn’t anything like a torch, but he’d been able to keep a check on the time. When they were first buried it had been twenty-five to three. It was now quarter to ten at night. They’d been here just over seven hours. During that time he’d searched around for the torches, but without any luck. Neither his, nor Walsh’s mobile, could get a signal. He’d also found where Walsh was bleeding from, but there was nothing he could do. When he ran his fingers over the wound, he felt the jagged edges of the bone poking through the skin. He also realised that the broken bone was in her left thigh. For some reason he’d assumed it had been in her lower leg, and as such, it was a lot more serious than he first thought. Now, he was worried. If Perkins didn’t find them soon, Walsh would fade away.
‘We might have to have sex, you know, Walsh.’
‘Oh, and why would that be?’
‘Well, I’m not sure about this, you understand, but I heard it from someone, who heard it from an Eskimo, and he said that sex increases your blood levels.’
Walsh laughed, and then had a bout of coughing. ‘You’re trying to kill me off, aren’t you?’
‘Shush, I think I heard something.’
They strained their ears, but there was no sound.
‘No one’s coming for us, are they?’
‘Well, if that’s the case, we’re both going to die. You’ll die fairly quickly, and I’ll die slowly. Before I die though, I’d have to eat you.’
‘You wouldn’t?’
Then they heard a noise again.
‘I heard that,’ Walsh said.
Quigg grabbed a rock and began banging it against another one. ‘We’re here,’ he shouted.
He held his breath and listened. He heard stone knocking against stone.
‘They’ve found us, Walsh.’
There was no response.
He shook her. ‘Walsh, wake up, they’ve found us.’
‘It’s too late for me, Sir. Tell my mum I love her.’
‘Stop being a drama queen, and stay awake.’
‘Hello?’ a male voice said.
‘Is that you, Perkins?’
‘Yes, Sir. Thank God we’ve found you.’
‘About bloody time. Listen, Walsh needs medical help fairly urgently, so the sooner you can get in here and whisk her away to the Hammersmith, the better.’
‘The paramedics are here. It won’t be long now, Sir.’
He could hear rubble being shifted, and light stabbed through the gap behind them.
‘Walsh, are you still with me?’ He shook her. ‘Stop sleeping on duty, Walsh.’
‘I’m so tired.’
‘We’re all tired, but some of us have to stay awake.’
***
Friday 25th May
It took the rescuers another fifteen minutes to open up a hole large enough for them to get Walsh through. The paramedics began working on her immediately by inserting an intravenous infusion in her arm, covering her mouth and nose with an oxygen mask, and putting inflatable splints on her broken arm and leg.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked one of the paramedics.
‘Vic Bagnelle.’
‘Make sure my partner doesn’t die, Vic.’
‘Don’t worry, she’s in safe hands now.’
Vic and the second paramedic worked efficiently, and so
on had Walsh strapped into an emergency basket stretcher.
‘What happened, Sir?’
He told Perkins about the man in dark clothes, about how they’d pursued him, and how the explosion had stopped them in their tracks. ‘The exit is beyond this rubble, Perkins. I want people clearing it away by the morning. We need to find out where it leads. I’ll contact the Chief...’
‘He’s in the warehouse waiting.’
‘Rubbing his hands, thinking he’s got rid of me.’
‘I don’t think so. He seemed genuinely worried .’
‘Worried that replacing me might eat into his budget. Anyway, I’ll get people down here to clear this lot away. I’m going to the hospital to make sure Walsh will be all right, and then I’m going home. I’ll be back in the morning...’
‘It’s already the morning,’ Perkins said.
Quigg looked at his watch and saw that it was ten to three. ‘Bloody hell. Has Duffy rung?’
‘She’s in the warehouse with the Chief, and another woman.’
‘Ruth?’
‘Yes, that’s her name. Is it true that you got both of them pregnant?’
‘You don’t want to know about my sordid private life Perkins, it will drive you insane.’
He followed the paramedics carrying Walsh back to the original cavern. A winch had been set up to lift the stretcher up and through the opening. Also, a Snap-On safety harness had been organised for those climbing up and down the metal ladder.
Quigg ascended the ladder after the second paramedic had stepped off at the top. Only one person was permitted on the ladder at any one time now. The Health & Safety representative had arrived, carried out risk assessments, and implemented certain safety measures.
Once he reached the warehouse and moved beyond the protective barrier, he saw that Duffy and Ruth were waiting for him. He hugged them both, and assured them he was all right.
‘I have to go to the hospital to make sure Walsh is okay.’
‘We will come with you,’ Ruth announced.
He shook his head. ‘No, you should both be at home resting?’
‘You should have thought about that before you risked your life chasing a murderer,’ Duffy said.