Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3)

by Mikey Campling

  I stood tall. “No! Get out! I’ll yell my bloody head off.”

  The man shook his head slowly. “No, you won’t,” he said quietly. “Not if you want Callisto to remain safe.”

  At the mention of Cally’s name, a jolt of ice-water raced through my veins. And I knew I’d been right to fear for Cally, right to try and protect her. “It was you. You’ve been following us. In the red car.”

  The man raised his eyebrows. “No. That was nothing to do with me. And anyway, if I’d been following you, you would never have known it.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re something to do with those men at the station. And you burgled Cally’s room.”

  “Again, no,” the man said. “Although I’m unaccustomed to explaining myself, I can assure you that I had no need to bother your little friend—she doesn’t have anything I want.” He gave me a wolfish smile. “You, on the other hand, have something I need very badly.” He lowered his knife to waist height then stepped toward me. And I seized my chance.

  I pushed myself off from the wall and charged at the man. With my left hand, I grabbed his arm and pushed the knife away. At the same time, I drove my right fist at his face. But the man sidestepped smoothly, swinging his upper body around and changing his stance. In one smooth motion he deflected my clumsy punch and took hold of my arm. Somehow, he turned me around, twisting my arm behind my back and forcing my head down until my forehead slammed against the bathroom sink. I struggled, flailing my free hand uselessly behind me in an attempt to grab hold of his leg. But he yanked my body backward, and the next thing I knew, he’d wrapped his arm around my throat, jamming my windpipe in the crook of his arm. He squeezed hard and I gasped for air, but I couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t think straight. My hands were free now, and I took hold of his arm, trying to wrench it away from my throat. But his grip was like an iron clamp: so tight around my neck that my fingers could find no purchase. He squeezed harder and I choked, fighting for breath. The room spun, my heart pounded in my ears, and my chest burned with the need to breathe.

  “Now, have you had enough?” the man said. “Or do you want to end your miserable little life on the bathroom floor?”

  I moved my lips but no words would come. I slapped my hand against his arm, hoping he’d understand my submission.

  “Good.”

  The pressure on my throat eased and I gasped for air, shifting my position to make breathing easier. I took a couple of breaths then I did my best to surprise him. Without warning, I tried to shake him off, turning my shoulders and throwing my full weight into the move. I struggled with all my strength against his grip, but it was no good. He just tightened his hold on my throat, and suddenly, all I could think of was where my next breath was coming from.

  “Silly boy,” he said, and his voice was calm, almost gentle. “I can see I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

  I tried to shake my head, I tried to speak, but it was no good. The room was slipping out of focus, its colours fading to grey. If he didn’t release me soon, I’d pass out. No, I told myself. You can’t let that happen. I focused on the black and white tiles of the bathroom floor and squashed the surge of panic rising from the pit of my stomach. There had to be something I could do.

  I looked back along the floor and realised that the man’s feet were just behind my own. I lifted my right foot and stamped down as hard as I could on his instep.

  He flinched, but it wasn’t enough to make him release me. “You’ll pay for that,” he snapped.

  And then the knife’s blade was in front of my eyes.

  “Keep still,” he commanded.

  I ground my teeth together and gathered my strength, straining to pull my head free. But the knife came down, scratching across my cheek, the blade biting easily into my flesh.

  “That’s just the beginning,” the man said. “If you try anything like that again, I’ll slit your throat and leave you here to die. And then I’ll visit Callisto and do the same to her. Is that clear?”

  I didn’t even try to reply. I just stayed as still as I could, watching my blood drip and splash on the bathroom tiles.

  “I think I’ve got my message across,” the man said. “Now, I’m going to let you stand up.” He paused and exhaled noisily, his breath wheezing in his throat. “If you behave yourself, we’ll get you patched up and then we’re going to have a little chat. But if you misbehave again, you will never leave this room alive.”

  He released me then pushed me away, spinning me around. My shoe slipped in the puddle of blood, but I managed to keep my balance. I stood as far back as I could, facing my attacker, my hand pressed against my cheek, the warm blood seeping between my fingers. “What do you want?” I said. “What do you want with Cally?”

  The man plucked a towel from the rail and held it out to me. “Press that against the cut,” he said. “It’s only a scratch. It’ll stop bleeding in a minute.”

  I stared at him for a long second then I took the towel and held it against my cheek. “Who are you? What the hell do you want?”

  “My name is Crawford,” he said. “And funnily enough, I want exactly the same thing as you.”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh yes you do. Because strange as it may seem, I want to climb that hill and see the black stone.”

  Chapter 33

  1919

  AT THE LOUNGE BAR IN THE WHITE SWAN, Trevor handed a pint of mild and bitter to Brian. “There you go, Brian. That should steady your nerves.”

  Brian sipped gingerly at his pint and looked around the room. “I don’t go to the pub much—most of my wages go to my mum for the housekeeping. And when I do go out, it’s always the public bar. I’ve never been in the lounge before.”

  “First time for everything, eh?” Trevor said. “And since it’s lunchtime, how about a cheese and onion roll to keep your hunger at bay?”

  Brian goggled at him. “I don’t know. I usually just get a packet of pork scratchings.”

  “That’s no good,” Trevor said. “We’ve got to keep ourselves fed if we’re going to get anything done this afternoon.”

  Brian’s brow furrowed. “I’ve got a sandwich and a flask of tea back at the site, but you said we had to rush off. I didn’t have a chance to grab my knapsack. I didn’t even have time to tell the foreman I was going.”

  Trevor smiled to dismiss Brian’s concerns without a word. It had been important to get Brian off the site as quickly as possible; there was no way he could’ve allowed him to go gossiping to the rest of the men. “I’ll tell you what,” Trevor said smoothly, “you find a table and I’ll order us a couple of rolls.”

  “The only thing is,” Brian said, “I haven’t…you know…I didn’t bring any money with me.”

  Trevor raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be daft, Brian. You’re here at my invitation. I wouldn’t dream of asking you for a penny.”

  Brian looked mortified. “Oh. I didn’t mean to imply…I’m sorry, Mr. Marley. I’m not used to socialising with, erm, people of your calibre.”

  “Perhaps it’s time you got used to it, Brian. I can see you have a lot of potential.” He noticed a blush rising to Brian’s cheeks. “But you sit down,” he went on. “I’ll get those rolls and join you in a second.”

  “All right,” Brian said. “And thank you very much, Mr. Marley. Much appreciated.” He shuffled over to a vacant table and sat down, looking uncomfortably out of place.

  At the bar, Trevor paid for their rolls, and he was about to pocket his change when the barman made a point of glaring at Brian; it looked as if he was going to complain about the workman’s dusty clothes. Trevor smiled and slid the change back across the bar. “And have one for yourself, old chap. Make it a large one if you like.”

  The barman beamed and scooped up the money with a practised motion. “Thank you very much, sir,” he said and walked away without a backward glance.

  Trevor picked up the plates and made his
way over to Brian, thinking quickly. Up on that ledge, he’d had to make a snap decision. Since then, he’d been going over the whole situation, looking at it from every angle. And the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. This really was a golden opportunity for him after all. He’d show Matthews what he was made of, and Grigson too. Humiliate Trevor Marley would they? Ignore him? Not this time. He’d cover up this mess and bring the project in on time. And then, without their even knowing it, Matthews and Grigson would owe him a big favour. Trevor savoured the feeling. All he had to do was wait for the right moment—the moment when he could let Matthews know how close his precious project had come to disaster. Only then would Trevor reveal how he’d saved the day.

  In the meantime, the only other person who knew the secret was Brian. And Trevor was confident that Brian could be persuaded to toe the line.

  Trevor sat down next to his new friend. Poor, picked-on Brian, he thought. The man was confused and out of his depth. And very shortly, he’d owe Trevor a very big favour indeed. Trevor handed Brian his plate. “There you go, Brian. Good pint?”

  Brian nodded. “Yes. Thank you very much, Mr. Marley, sir.”

  Trevor acknowledged his thanks with a nod then picked up his own glass. “You can call me Trevor if you like. Cheers.”

  “Oh, right. Cheers, er, Trevor.” Brian raised his eyebrows then took a deep draught.

  Trevor took only a sip. He needed to stay sharp. “So, Brian, have you got much other work coming up?”

  Brian shook his head. “No. Nothing.” He cast his eyes down to his plate. “I only got this job by the skin of my teeth—they were a man short.” He took another gulp of beer then frowned down at his glass, as if he’d just tasted something unpleasant.

  Trevor smiled. He was playing this chap like a fiddle. “Ah, so you’d be free if an opportunity came your way.”

  Brian looked up sharply. He moved his lips soundlessly for a moment then said, “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is this all about, Mr. Marley? Have I done something wrong?”

  Trevor laughed and Brian’s face fell even further.

  “Wrong?” Trevor asked. “Oh no, no. You’ve worked very hard. Everything at the site is going really well. In fact, I don’t mind telling you something.” He leaned toward Brian and lowered his voice. “That place is going to be a big success, just like Mr. Matthews wants. It’s good stone, high quality. There’s plenty of it and it’s easy to get at. The new quarry will be good news for this town and it could be good for you.”

  Brian sat up straight. “Good for me? Why is it good for me?” He raised his voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Trevor put down his pint and folded his arms across his chest. “I know you’ve had a shock, Brian, but there’s no need to take that tone with me.”

  Brian looked down at the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” He looked up at Trevor. “I shouldn’t drink at lunch time—I’m not used to it.”

  Trevor let the man stew for a second then let him off the hook. “That’s all right, Brian. As I said, you’ve just been through an upsetting experience. I think you’ve earned that pint, don’t you?”

  Brian nodded sadly and took another sip of his drink then he leaned his elbows on the table and slumped forward, resting his chin on his hands. “Nothing ever goes right for me. I can’t even clear a bit of ground without causing a fuss.” He sniffed. “I’m always at the bottom of the heap. I get sick of it sometimes.”

  Trevor did his best not to grin. His plan was going succeed; he could almost taste it. “Maybe it’s time we changed all that, Brian.”

  Brian didn’t look up. “I don’t see how.”

  “It’s all quite simple. You see, Mr. Matthews is going to need a lot of workers for his new quarry. Some of them will be unskilled, perhaps even casual labourers, but others would have permanent positions—jobs for life. So long as Mr. Matthews can find the right sort of person that is.”

  Brian nodded. “Like a foreman and some chargehands, you mean. So there might be jobs for Eric or Bernie.”

  Trevor almost laughed, but he controlled it just in time and turned it into a cough. It’s incredible, he thought. Can he really be this slow to catch on? He looked Brian up and down. Perhaps he’d over-estimated the workman’s potential. This plan wouldn’t work unless the man had at least a little ambition.

  Trevor leaned forward and looked Brian in the eye. “I’m not talking about men like Bernie and Eric—they’re set in their ways. This is going to be a brand new quarry, with new ways of doing things and lots of new opportunities. They’ll need young men who can be trained up. They’ll need men like you, Brian. Do you understand?” He paused and sat back, enjoying the expression on Brian’s face as his words finally sank in. “How do you fancy yourself as a chargehand?” Trevor went on. “Or even better, a foreman?”

  Brian stared at him. “Me? A foreman? How?”

  Trevor heard the note of hope in Brian’s voice and he knew he’d caught him—hook, line and sinker. “It’s very simple, Brian. I talk to Matthews, and he gives you the job. It’s as good as yours—if you want it that is.”

  Brian nodded furiously. “Yes please! That would be wonderful. And you’d do that for me? You’d put in a good word?”

  “Of course I would,” Trevor said. But then he suddenly frowned and rubbed his chin as though he’d just thought of something. It was time to go in for the kill. “Mind you, there is this one thing though. Yes, now I think of it, I can see that would put a spanner in the works. Oh dear, you have created a problem there, Brian.”

  And Brian fell for it. He couldn’t have looked more shocked if Trevor had reached out and slapped him across the face. “What? I…problem? But—”

  Trevor held up his hand to cut Brian off. “It’s this business up on the ledge. That could take ages to sort out, and once Mr. Matthews finds out about it, he’ll probably cut his losses and sell the site on. He likes to get things done quickly you see.” Trevor looked for some sign that Brian was following him, but the poor man just looked thoroughly miserable. He was obviously going to need a few more nudges in the right direction. “And old man Matthews has got a terribly fiery temper,” he went on. “When he finds out that it was you who spoiled his plans…” Trevor sighed theatrically. “He knows a lot of important people around here. I’m afraid you might find it hard to get work anywhere. Unless…I suppose we could…but no. It’s no good.” Trevor shook his head and looked down at the table, but he said no more.

  Brian was on the edge of his seat, “Unless what, Mr. Marley? Unless what?”

  Trevor shook his head. “Oh, it’s nothing really. I was just wondering how things would be different if Mr. Matthews didn’t find out about your little discovery.”

  Brian’s face creased. “We can’t do anything about that though, can we? You’ll have to tell him. And the police too.”

  But Trevor was ready for this objection. “The police? Oh no. You saw those bones, Brian. They’ve been there for hundreds of years. They’re ancient history. I’ve seen this sort of thing on sites before, Brian. The police just won’t be interested. But once it’s been reported, all hell will break loose. We’ll have college professors swarming all over the place, demanding to set up archaeological digs. We’ll have historical societies protesting about the plans, and newspaper reporters asking lots of awkward questions. I’m telling you, Brian, it won’t take those reporters long to track you down. Have you ever had your picture in the paper before? They’ll probably say something like, Local Man Ruins Quarry Plans. And they’ll print your address too, you know.”

  Brian visibly paled. He opened and shut his mouth several times before he managed to say anything, but then his words came out in a rush. “But, even if the police don’t do anything, you’ve still got to tell them, haven’t you? You’ve still got to tell Mr. Matthews, haven’t you?”

  He’s gabbling, Trevor thought. Perhaps I’ve frightened him a little too mu
ch. Trevor gave Brian a sympathetic smile and tried a gentler tone. “I can see why you’d think that, Brian. But I wonder, with all the money he’s spent on the place, wouldn’t we be doing Mr. Matthews a favour by not telling him?”

  Brian looked doubtful, but before he could say anything, Trevor pressed on. “And then there’s all the jobs the new quarry would’ve created—all gone up in smoke once we make this official. They would’ve been good jobs too—jobs for men like you. All that would go down the drain. And for what? A load of old bones that have been safely under those rocks for hundreds of years. Do you really want to go and stir up all this trouble, Brian?” Trevor sat back and watched Brian closely. Hopefully, he’d led the man far enough. If things went wrong later, it would be useful if Brian thought the whole plan had been his idea.

  Brian squirmed in his seat. “It’s not all down to me though, is it? I mean, they can’t blame me for everything can they?”

  Trevor tilted his head to one side and waited. Brian clearly wasn’t used to making important decisions and it looked like he wasn’t enjoying it. In fact, he looked as though the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders. Trevor let him squirm for a minute then said, “The question is, Brian, what can we do to stop the whole thing going wrong?”

  Brian cast a wary glance around the room then he licked his lips. When he spoke, he kept his voice low. “I don’t know. We’ve got to do the right thing. I don’t see what else we can do.”

  Trevor made as if to stand up. “All right, Brian. I’d better get on the phone to Mr. Matthews right away.” He hesitated. “What was your surname again, Brian? Obviously I’ll need to give Mr. Matthews all the details.”

  Brian flapped his hands at Trevor, gesturing for him to stay sitting down. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he hissed.

  Trevor relaxed back onto his seat and Brian leaned across the table and put his hand on Trevor’s arm. “What if,” Brian murmured, “what if we just didn’t tell anybody about the bones?”

  Bingo! Trevor thought, but he managed a thoughtful frown. “Hmm, I can see what you’re saying, Brian. You think we should just keep quiet about the whole thing, eh?”