Wreckers Island (romantic suspense)

by Harcourt, L K

  Dan didn’t respond, he was fixated on the diagrams, constantly looking first at one then the other.

  ‘Come on, stop being mysterious,’ snapped Louise in frustration, ‘if you’ve seen something interesting, tell us.’

  ‘I don’t know whether it is interesting or not, but it might be,’ replied Dan. ‘If you look at that drawing of the island with the lighthouse and outbuilding sketched on, do you see that circle marked on the floor of the outbuilding? At first I thought it indicated the outside toilet or something.’

  ‘Yes, I would think you’re right,’ said John, jumping in. ‘That would be my guess.’

  ‘Ok, how do you explain this?’ pointed out Dan. ‘If you look at the original diagram showing the island before anything was built, that small circle still appears in exactly the same place. If you look carefully, there are two small lines of dashes running away from it. What do you think that might mean?’

  Emma clutched his arm. Dan could at times be obscure and academic and his points opaque – but she always got onto his wavelength far quicker than the others. She saw what he meant. ‘What’s the weather doing now,’ she said, ‘let’s get outside and take a look!’

  At that moment a sheet of sea water smacked into the windows, swept high into the air by the venomous gale. When the glass dried, it looked like the rain might have stopped.

  ‘Take a look at what?’ said Louise and John simultaneously.

  ‘Can’t you see what Dan is getting at?’ said Emma. ‘That circle indicates something in the ground located underneath the outbuilding. It appears on both plans so clearly whatever it is was already there before the outbuilding was constructed. The question is, what is it and why should there be little dashes leading away from it, as if indicating, perhaps, a tunnel of some kind?’

  ‘It might be drainage for the toilet and washing facilities,’ countered John.

  ‘Yes that’s what I would think if it didn’t also appear on the original plan before anything had been constructed,’ said Dan. ‘Whatever it is pre-dates the lighthouse, that is why it appears on the first diagram. The fact that it is also marked on the subsequent diagram suggests that it still exists in some form. What I’m saying is that this might be evidence of an old tunnel leading from this island. Perhaps a tunnel once used by wreckers, perhaps even the reason why Wreckers Island got its name.’

  ‘Right,’ said Louise, ‘this is interesting, but it doesn’t get us any further towards establishing the whereabouts of the tunnel used by the Spanish captain does it? He walked down a tunnel from the shore, leading beneath the seabed.’

  ‘Yes but don’t you see,’ said Dan, ‘it’s a long shot perhaps, but this might be the same tunnel – the island might have been the place it led to. Why not, when you think about it? What a great strategic advantage that would give to any smugglers and wreckers in the know, to be able to use a little island in the bay, linked to the shore by a secret passageway, with underground caves along the way!’

  ‘Oh and think,’ chimed in John, ‘there must be a small chance that if a tunnel leads to this island, while it may have been sealed up from the shore, possibly no-one has thought to seal it from this end.’

  ‘The treasure, therefore, might still be there, is that what you’re saying?’ asked Louise, finally getting the picture.

  ‘Yes,’ said Dan quietly, ‘it might be, if – and it’s a big if – there really is a tunnel to the island and it happens to be the one the Spanish captain used. Especially if, as John says, the shoreline entrance was blocked a long while ago preventing access to it that way. Meanwhile, the other end, leading beneath the outbuilding on this island, became inaccessible or at least, forgotten about. We know that the lighthouse was built in 1877, so that’s getting on for 150 years ago.

  ‘The key point is, would our entrance to the tunnel – assuming it is a tunnel – actually have been blocked up? Possibly not, since the outbuilding itself would have been lockable and under the watchful eye of the resident lighthouse keeper. Anyway, we have an exciting little project to tackle this afternoon, right here on this island!’

  ‘Before we do,’ protested Emma, ‘let’s get some lunch. I’m getting hungry.’

  The others agreed. There was no rush. With the weather so bad, it was unlikely they would be going anywhere that day.

  The four went over to the lamp room window and stared out, flinching as more spray lashed the glass. The towering waves showed no sign of abating. They went down to the kitchen. Louise and Emma got out the crusty bread they had bought the previous day and started to make some sandwiches. ‘Does anyone fancy a beer?’ asked Louise.

  ‘No,’ cautioned Dan. ‘Let’s keep a clear head this afternoon – we can celebrate with a beer afterwards if we get anywhere.’

  The others agreed. At times, Dan’s common sense and cool head were called for. Not that his head was entirely cool. Under his calm, passive exterior, his mind buzzed with the revelations uncovered in the diary and the mystery thrown up. At the same time, he was puzzling over the mixed messages received from Emma.

  Dan desired her so much, both physically and emotionally. Yes of course, he wanted her underneath his duvet and to be able to explore every inch of her. More than anything he yearned to hold her close and kiss her, to place his lips on hers – the woman he loved.

  ‘Dan is miles away, dreaming of Spanish galleons and buried treasure,’ said Louise with a grin, when her efforts to hand him a mug of tea failed.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, reaching for the tea. As he pressed his lips against the rim of the mug, he imagined them pressed against Emma’s. Above all, that was the treasure he truly wanted, far more so than any hoard of gold coins – although, that would be nice too, of course!

  Chapter VI

  By the time lunch had been cleared away, Dan had pushed romantic musings aside. He focussed instead on the task of poking around the outbuilding to see if, just possibly, something of interest waited to be uncovered.

  Louise, despite her initial scepticism, was now fizzing with enthusiasm. ‘Isn’t it sooo thrilling! The prospect of a hidden tunnel leading to our little island. It’s like something out of a book.’

  ‘Very true, and that’s why it may end up in one big disappointment,’ warned Dan. ‘If this were a book, no doubt we would find a tunnel, but as it’s real life, the chances are we will find some sort of drainage shaft and that will be it.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Louise, refusing to be deflated. ‘It’s still great fun! I have to admit, in all the times I’ve been to this island, the thought that there might be a long-forgotten passage beneath it never occurred to me. My parents have certainly never mentioned it.’

  ‘That’s a good sign it doesn’t exist, but on an afternoon like this, it’s got to be worth having a look,’ said Dan, wrapping the diagrams carefully, not wanting them to be damaged by the wind, rain and sea spray.

  They put on thick jumpers since it would be cold and draughty in the outbuilding and trooped to the main door of the lighthouse. John had to use all his strength to wrench it open as water had swollen it and jammed it shut. When he finally succeeded, the students were greeted by a wall of wind determined to push them back inside.

  ‘My God, it’s savage,’ cried Louise, exultantly, loving the power of the gale and the spray in her face. ‘Isn’t this the most amazing sight!’

  The others paused, in awe of the storm raging around their island. It was one thing to watch it from the safety of the lamp room, but to actually be outside in it was an exhilarating, almost frightening experience.

  ‘Look at those monster waves crashing over those rocks,’ shouted Louise, struggling to be heard over the din.

  ‘Be careful,’ shouted John, his hands dug deep into his waterproof, don’t get too close to the water’s edge, if we get swept out to sea, we’ll be done for. Come on, let’s get into the outbuilding and take a good look around.’

  They were glad when Louise managed to turn the key in the stubb
orn lock and let themselves into what was essentially a large shed, closing the door firmly behind them. Inside, it was basic and spartan – a sizeable open area which probably once served as a mini workshop, storeroom and a primitive outside toilet.

  ‘It’s quite roomy, almost like the garage of a house,’ said Emma.

  ‘Yes but when it was built, remember, a lighthouse keeper would have lived on the island all year round. He needed a reasonable amount of space to keep things in and to do some basic carpentry and other odd-jobs,’ pointed out John.

  Dan carefully unfolded the diagrams and spread them out over a trunk full of old lobster pots.

  ‘Ok, let’s think,’ he said. ‘We need to get our bearings and make sure we’re holding the plans the right way round. There’s a compass point on it showing North. If the sun sets over the mainland as we look at it, west is that way and north must be over there,’ he said, pointing. ‘That puts the storeroom in the left hand corner and the circular shape should therefore be towards the centre of that wall behind us.’

  They span round and looked expectantly at the spot to which Dan was pointing. In fact, no floor was to be seen. It was covered in old bric-a-brac and furniture.

  ‘Come on Dan, help me shift this chest of drawers,’ said John. The pair of them lugged it to one side, then dragged the other items out of the way, one by one.

  A tarpaulin lay stretched across the area in question so they pulled that back too, eager to discover what was beneath. They saw what looked like a seamless expanse of stone. On closer inspection they realised the floor was covered with large, heavy flagstones.

  ‘That is about where the circle was indicated on the diagram,’ said Dan, pointing.

  ‘Surely what we are looking for is a kind of manhole cover,’ said Louise.

  ‘Yes, that would be nice, but there isn’t one,’ pointed out Dan. ‘There are just great big flagstones right across the floor.’

  ‘Are we sure we’re looking in the right place?’ asked John, scratching his chin.

  ‘Absolutely sure,’ replied Dan, so long as this map is accurate. The circle on that map would be located somewhere beneath that flagstone there.’

  ‘So that’s it then,’ said Louise, looking disappointed, ‘nothing more we can do?’

  ‘We can do one of two things,’ said Dan. ‘We can give up, or we can try and get that flagstone up. It looks a pretty tough job but it might lever out.’

  ‘Why don’t we try it,’ said John. ‘Cheer up Louise, it’s better than finding the floor had been set in a foot of concrete. Question is, is there a suitable tool for the job? We need a strong spade or pick axe or something.’

  They were in luck. There was a full range of garden tools, including two tough, if rusty spades and a pick axe, presumably dating from when the lighthouse had a full-time keeper. He must have had his own garden patch, although the students couldn’t imagine anything growing successfully on that small, windswept island.

  John, being the strongest, first had a go with the pick axe but was unable to manoeuvre either its head or chisel edge beneath the flagstone, which had probably lain undisturbed since the lighthouse and outbuilding were built. He picked up the spade instead, his face contorting in agony as he tried in vain to insert it under the huge slab.

  ‘Let me try at the same time with the other spade,’ suggested Dan. Their combined leverage slowly did the trick and the huge stone tablet began, grudgingly, to yield. With their spades fully underneath, the job got easier.

  ‘Right, girls,’ said John. ‘We need your help now, can you stand on the spade handles to lift the flagstone up as much as possible while Dan and I try to wrench it back.’

  The girls did so and John and Dan pulled hard at its edge. Neither was wearing gloves and its rough edges cut into their hands, drawing blood.

  ‘Aaaagh,’ yelled the pair noisily as the flagstone eventually toppled, propelling them backwards and causing them to fall over, to the amusement of the girls.

  ‘It reminds me of the nursery story of the Giant Turnip,’ hooted Louise.

  The boys weren’t amused; their hands were sore and their backs hurt. Within seconds that was forgotten as they stared at the ground below. John and Dan got their spades to clear the dust and debris away and there before them, was what they had hoped for: a large circular iron lid embedded in the ground topped with an iron loop for a handle.

  John slid the head of the pick axe underneath and tugged upwards. The lid pulled away reasonably easily, and beneath was a circular shaft disappearing into a black void. Dan shone his powerful torch into the hole. He could see a series of iron rungs, presumably for use as a ladder.

  ‘It looks dry down there,’ said Dan. ‘We must be careful of any encroachment of sea water, but I can’t see any. The question now is, do we trust these rungs? They won’t have been used for a long time and if they gave way we’d be in trouble.’

  ‘There’s some rope in the storage cupboard,’ said Louise. ‘Why don’t we make it fast to somewhere then throw it into the hole, so if the rungs start to give way, we can grab it and pull ourselves back up.’

  She went to get it and John and Dan secured it to the sturdy door handle of the outbuilding before throwing the coiled rope into the shaft.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ said John, ‘I’m the heaviest so if the rungs hold my weight they’ll hold everyone’s and if not, I’ll have most strength to climb the rope again.’

  The ironwork was still strong and John got to the bottom without difficulty. Dan went next, then Louise and finally Emma, who looked a little alarmed. Somehow, the prospect of actually disappearing down a black hole didn’t seem half so appealing as it had from the bright and airy lamp room. She swallowed hard and gingerly descended. Dan shone his torch around. They found themselves in a tunnel which appeared to end at the bottom of the shaft. They had only one direction in which to walk and Dan guessed it was towards the shore, although it was hard to be sure.

  ‘Are we ok to explore?’ he said, noticing Emma’s frightened face.

  The others nodded. They felt jumpy and worried but adrenaline was pumping through them and none had any desire to turn back, not even Emma.

  ‘Come on,’ said Dan and he began to walk along the passageway. The others followed. It was a surreal experience. They heard an intermittent whooshing sound as they walked along.

  ‘I bet that’s the sea above!’ exclaimed John. ‘We must be under the sea bed. That’s good news, it means the tunnel should be dry because the sea is actually above us.’

  Nonetheless, they looked nervously at the roof as if to check it definitely was intact. The four had to walk with care. The roof would sometimes drop alarmingly and they would need to bend double.

  ‘We’re not going to get ourselves lost, are we?’ she asked.

  ‘That would be impossible,’ Dan reassured her, ‘because there are no tunnels branching off. To get back, all we need to do is turn round and return the way we’ve come.’

  Suddenly, to their left, they saw what looked like another passage. They had to be careful now if this were to turn into any kind of labyrinth.

  ‘It may not be a tunnel at all,’ whispered Dan. ‘It might be a cave.’

  Gingerly Dan stepped through the gap and flashed his torch around. It was a cave! Could it be the one that Felipe, captain of the Providencia, had discovered over two centuries earlier? Could this be the place where he had stored treasure salvaged from his ship?

  Chapter VII

  Dan’s torch beam swept in all directions. ‘Don’t come in,’ he warned. ‘In case another tunnel leads off it, we must not lose our sense of direction.’

  The others stayed put in the entrance. Somewhat to his disappointment, Dan saw no sign of smuggled goods, let alone any abandoned treasure lying about.

  ‘Let’s keep going,’ suggested Dan, rejoining them. ‘Remember that the diary entries I translated talked about two caves, one after the other – a nearer one and one further on. Let’s see if we ca
n find the other. Of course, most probably, this wasn’t the tunnel the Spanish captain used, we have to remember that.’

  To their relief, the path remained dry and easy to traverse.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Dan, aware that he had nearly walked past another aperture without noticing, on the opposite side. ‘Is this another cave?’

  Again the others stood in the entrance while he walked in to check. It was a cave, slightly bigger than the first. There seemed to be nothing in there either, until he noticed a big crate of some kind. It looked old. Dan gasped as the torchlight illuminated it. There was Spanish writing on the side. It appeared to be marked with the name Santander – that was a port not far from San Sebastian, where the Providencia had sailed from. Surely, this was the tunnel that the Spanish captain had used and here was part of his cargo?

  ‘What have you found, Dan?’ asked John. ‘Can we come in if I leave my jumper in the entrance, so we know which way to get out?’

  ‘Yes. Come and see what you make of this.’

  They stared, fascinated, at the crate. All that remained was to lift the top and peer inside. It didn’t appear to be locked.

  ‘Who would like to be the one to lift the lid?’ asked Dan.

  ‘You would. It’s thanks to your detective work we’ve got this far,’ said John promptly. The others agreed. Dan took a deep breath and slowly prised open the lid, as gently as he could since he did not want to damage it.

  He groaned. Nothing of value lay inside, save for what looked like two old wine bottles, both empty and covered in dust. Dan ran his finger through it in frustration. He got to his feet and shrugged.

  ‘Oh well, worth a try,’ he said.

  Emma rubbed his shoulder, sharing his disappointment. They felt crushed that their high hopes had come to nothing.

  ‘Come on,’ said Louise. ‘Let’s get back to the lighthouse and get that beer we didn’t have earlier. It’s a shame but this treasure hunt has still been a fun way to spend the afternoon.’