‘Do you have any better ideas?’
‘No. It seems to be our only hope. It’s a horrible plan though.’
‘It will be an awful lot more horrible if we don’t deal with things quickly and allow the body to start decomposing.’
Dan shuddered.
‘Ok, it’s agreed,’ said John. ‘We’ll go to the lighthouse now and tell the girls we want some lads’ time to do a spot of fishing. The girls will probably appreciate some time to themselves as well. As soon as the deed is done, we come straight back and the four of us take the boat over to the shore and go for another night out at the Smugglers Tavern.
‘We’ll sit in the window which allows us a view of both the harbour and the island so we would see straightaway if anyone takes a boat towards the lighthouse. I don’t like leaving the treasure but it should be secure in that strong, hidden safe, especially as we have that decoy box. The important thing is, it helps create an alibi and a sense of normality.’
Dan shrugged his shoulders with an air of resigned acceptance. He didn’t like what John was proposing at all. Hopefully Zak had survived and limped off licking his wounds and their sordid little plan wouldn’t be necessary.
Chapter XVIII
It was with troubled hearts that John and Dan returned to the lighthouse. Louise and Emma were now in the lounge, sipping wine and chatting away animatedly. They seemed in good spirits.
‘Dan and I fancied taking the boat out for a spot of fishing,’ said John, after a while. ‘Would that be ok by you, Louise? I think I’ve mastered how to use it. We’ll leave you two girls to continue your girlie chat, then how about we go ashore later and have another drink and a meal?’
Emma looked alarmed at the prospect of the boys going off, but she didn’t want to be a spoilsport. But she had no appetite for another session in the Smugglers Tavern so soon.
‘Isn’t it a bit unwise us going out later, given what has happened, and what we’ve got stored in the lighthouse?’ she said.
‘It’s no safer with us here,’ said Dan. ‘If Zak or one of his bully boys were to attack us later, I don’t think any of us could stand in their way. Our only hope would be to call the police at that stage, and we could do that from the shore.’
‘Ok, shall I make you a flask of tea or coffee and get you some snacks to take?’ said Emma, ever thoughtful.
‘No, we’ll be fine, honestly,’ said Dan, ‘I haven’t got much appetite at the moment.’
‘No, nor me,’ said John. ‘Anyway you two have a nice time and we’ll be back later.’
John and Dan headed first to the outbuilding where Louise had reminded them the fishing rods were kept. It gave them a handy excuse to be going back there. Conveniently the outbuilding wasn’t visible from the lounge windows although it was overlooked by the lamp room if the girls happened to go up and look out at the wrong moment. It was a risk they would have to take.
All was quiet inside the outbuilding. With the sun dipping, it was getting gloomy in there. John flicked the light switch, and a single bare incandescent bulb suddenly gave out a bright light, its glare mitigated somewhat by a film of dust across its surface. The place was as they had left it.
‘God I’m dreading this,’ said Dan.
‘Believe me, so am I,’ replied John. ‘Come on, let’s get it over with. I tell you what, I’m looking forward to another night out in the village tavern, I think we’ll deserve a drink after this!’
‘If only we could fast forward the next couple of hours,’ said Dan, as they began removing the junk they had piled on top of the flagstone. His weary, bruised hands cried out in pain as he picked up a spade and began levering it under the flagstone. John did the same with the other.
The slab wasn’t as hard to dislodge this time. They were able to shift it to one side fairly easily. Then it was a simple matter to lift the lid of the shaft – although psychologically it was extremely hard. What John and Dan both needed was the hoppy, fragrant scent of an ice-cold beer. That should have been their reward after such a trying day.
Instead, as the lid was prised off, a faintly sickly odour rose up, like bad air with a metallic hint of drying blood. To their relief, no-one was waiting on the rungs below ready to pop up like a Jack-in-the-box. John shone the torch over the iron grips to be totally sure and then, the horrible moment they had been waiting for: he turned the beam onto the tunnel floor itself.
‘Look,’ said John, grabbing Dan’s shoulder. ‘Can you see – fingers just visible. Zak’s hand! He’s still lying there.’
Dan peered downwards, his face, whitened already by the chalk he had applied, becoming whiter still. He looked, at that moment, like death himself.
‘Come on,’ said John. ‘Let’s get it over with. We’ll need tarpaulin and rope to tie him up. We should find both in the store cupboard. We must wear gloves, proper thick gloves. It’s a good thing that cupboard is well stocked with things like that, I never thought.’
They found several short coils of rope and threw an end to the tunnel floor to bind him and made the other fast to the door handle as before. Now all that remained was to descend the shaft. John insisted that he go first, psychologically that would make it easier for Dan, who had suffered enough that day.
Dan shone his torch to help his friend see the iron rungs and John shone his up as Dan came down, after initially flashing it nervously along the tunnel. It was horrible to be back in such circumstances.
The silence was total. No-one was about – no-one living, that is. They looked at the grim sight on the floor. Zak had not moved an inch in the two hours since he crashed to the ground. He did not appear to be breathing.
John shone his torch at his face. It looked a strange shade of grey and his glazed eyes stared lifelessly upwards. The top of his forehead bore a purplish red mark where the spade had connected. In death, he looked even more fat and bloated than before. It was a repulsive sight.
‘Zak, can you hear us, we’ve come to help,’ said John, bravely, wanting him to reply at the same time as fervently hoping he didn’t.
He didn’t. John swallowed hard, and reached out and grasped his wrist. It was cold. No pulse.
‘So you were right John,’ whispered Dan. ‘Zak’s dead. Now we have a six foot, probably 18-stone corpse to dispose of.’
‘I’m afraid so,’ replied John, who felt a shiver along his spine. Even though he had expected this, it still shocked him to the core. Now that they were actually confronted with the task of removing the body, he was seized with doubt that it would be possible.
‘Do you know something, Dan,’ said John, slowly, ‘I’m not sure we’ll be able to shift him, I don’t think we’ll have the strength. I can’t see us being able to haul him on a single length of rope. By the time we’ve tied it properly around him, it isn’t going to be long enough, or strong enough. I don’t want to try knotting two lengths of rope together – it could easily come apart.’
‘The only alternative would be to carry him the other way, to the tunnel entrance and try to get him on the boat that end, but we could easily be seen by passers-by,’ reasoned Dan. ‘That isn’t much of an option either. Unless we left it to nightfall, that is, and I don’t like the thought of having to manhandle a heavy corpse in the dark. Plus, how would we explain our disappearance to Emma and Louise? This is becoming a nightmare. We’re stuck John, completely stuck.’
John was better in these sort of situations than Dan. He was a naturally more cheerful-natured chap who would often be able to find a way out, if one could be found.
‘Hang on, I have the germ of an idea,’ he said, suddenly. ‘How about using a safety harness – like yachtsmen wear. I’m sure Louise has something like that stowed in her boat along with the lifejackets. It’s the sort you can attach a safety rope to in case you get washed overboard.’
‘Ok,’ said Dan. ‘That sounds promising. Firstly, let’s try the store cupboard in the outbuilding. Remember, her parents keep their sailing gear in there. Come on, let�
�s go and have a look.’
John and Dan climbed out of the shaft heartily wishing it was for the last time, but at least now they had a glimmer of hope.
John began searching the shelves.
‘Here,’ he said, a few minutes later. ‘What about this?’
It certainly looked like a safety harness, with reflective tape, toggles, shoulder straps, a waistband and – most importantly – a sturdy metal D-ring to attach a line to.
‘That should do it,’ said John, as the pair of them made their way back down the shaft. ‘Now for the yucky bit. ‘We’re going to have to sit him up against that wall.’
The two of them put their gloves on, grabbed Zak’s shoulders and pushed him into a seated position. ‘Lucky that rigor mortis hasn’t set in yet,’ said John, trying valiantly to sound cheery, but it came across as strangely macabre. ‘Sorry to ask but can you hold him in position while I tie the harness on?’
Dan complied, stifling the urge to vomit as he helped John lift Zak’s arms to allow him to fit the straps beneath them and around his chest. It was indescribable to be at the bottom of the shaft, not knowing if Jake or someone else might burst round the corner at any moment, virtually hugging a dead man – one, furthermore, that his girlfriend had inadvertently killed and whose body was now to be illegally disposed of.
At one point, Zak’s head lolled against his shoulder, nuzzling it as if it were Emma’s. Dan pushed it back, revolted. A distinct sickly sweet, nauseating odour of intestines, dried blood and bad breath rose from his mouth. It was the smell of death. Dan fought the desire to retch.
‘Ok,’ said John, as he attached the rope to the D-ring of the harness pulled tight around Zak’s body. ‘This looks feasible – the harness will help distribute his weight and the ring will take a lot of strain without any risk of the rope unravelling and him plunging back down again. Now we both need to go to the top and haul with all our might.’
John and Dan lifted the corpse to the foot of the shaft and climbed into the outbuilding. They grabbed a stretch of rope each and began to pull and pull. It was incredibly hard-going, especially for Dan whose limbs were already bruised and sore.
Their arms felt as if they were being wrenched from their sockets. Slowly, the great leaden weight at the bottom of the shaft began to lift upwards and begin its journey to the top. Their combined strength was only just up to the task. Yet eventually, this time under very different circumstances, Zak’s head appeared above the hole in the floor for the second time that day. No gloating, seedy grin or bombast this time, just the wax-grey, bloated features of a face in which no-one was any longer at home.
John had laid out the tarpaulin ready to receive Zak’s body as they finally dragged it clear of the shaft. He and Dan rolled the corpse up tightly in it then got several lengths of rope to bind him securely.
‘We’ve been some time,’ panted John, ‘the girls will wonder why we haven’t put to sea yet, let’s pop and check all is well and make sure they’re not looking out of the window when we shift the body.’
John and Dan took off their gloves and, hoping they didn’t smell too much of death, and went into the lighthouse.
‘Hi you two, goodness that was quick,’ said Emma, as they came in.
‘Erm no, we haven’t gone out yet,’ said John. ‘We were sitting on the rocks, looking out to sea, chatting, you know how it is, we’re heading off now.’
‘Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,’ called Louise, cheerfully.
~~~~~
‘What have they been up to?’ said Emma, after the boys disappeared. ‘They both looked deathly pale.’
‘It’s been a tough day for them,’ pointed out Louise. ‘Especially for your Dan. I think he sees John almost as an older brother figure, you know, even though they’re the same age. He probably needed to talk about what he’s gone through today, and get it off his chest. We’ve been having a long heart-to-heart – they probably needed the same.
‘Well it’s me he should be talking to,’ said Emma, put out, ‘but I know what you mean. Let’s hope they feel refreshed after their fishing trip.’
~~~~~
No boats were to be seen close to the island as two reluctant pallbearers strode from the outbuilding holding Zak’s body between them wrapped in blue tarpaulin. They made their way towards the jetty, John holding his head and Dan his feet. They were glad when the path dropped behind rocks out of sight of the lighthouse windows, although fortunately, the lounge windows faced the other way. They heaved Zak’s remains into the boat, which listed slightly under the weight.
John pulled the starting rope and the outboard engine fired up immediately. That was a relief. As they headed away from the island, they looked at each other, as if needing reassurance.
‘I have no idea where would be the best place to choose,’ said John. ‘What about you?’
John stared impatiently at Dan, who had been the star of the show earlier on, but was now leaving him to make the decisions. After all, the whole point of this was to spare his girlfriend the trauma of knowing the consequences of what she had inadvertently done. That and the need to protect their claim to the treasure, of course.
Chapter XIX
‘I wonder how their fishing trip is going,’ said Louise glancing out of the lounge window. ‘Oh that’s them over there, I think. I can see a boat chugging across the bay and it looks like mine. Strange, there’s some long blue object in it – like a tree trunk wrapped in a tarpaulin.’
‘That could be their fishing rods and gear that they’ve bundled together,’ said Emma, more interested in her glass of crisp, tangy Chenin Blanc than tracking the boys’ progress across the bay.
‘Actually,’ added Emma, ‘as it’s been a warm day today and the rock pools will have warmed up, I’m going to take my wine outside and have an open-air bath. If we’re going out tonight, I could do with freshening up.’
‘That’s a good idea – any room for me in the tub?’ replied Louise.
‘Yes of course,’ said Emma. ‘Let’s go and get ourselves nice and clean.’
They walked down the stone steps leading to the lighthouse with their towels, wash bags and wine glasses, round to where sea water at high tide would get trapped in big, luxurious natural hollows in the rock which under a hot summer sun, would be deliciously warm by early evening.
‘Let’s try this rock pool for a change,’ said Emma, ‘we can just about see the boys messing about in boats from here.’
They stripped off and jumped into the water. It was almost as warm as if they had run a bath at home only with loads more room. It was deliciously relaxing to recline with a glass of wine in their hands, sea air in their nostrils and the lightest of breezes to nuzzling their necks.
When Emma finally stepped out onto the rocks she wrapped a towel round her and looked out into the bay, hoping to catch sight of the boys but she couldn’t see their boat anywhere.
~~~~~
‘Ok let’s have a think,’ said Dan, aware that John was getting irritated that he wasn’t helping more with the decision-making. Dan was exhausted after the day’s events and his body and brain were finding it hard to keep going. He ached to flop into an armchair with a beer in his hand and for everything to go back to normal again.
‘I think it’s potentially risky to dump the body out to sea, we might easily be spotted from the shore and if we are, we’re done-for,’ he said eventually, striving hard to say something meaningful. ‘Why don’t we motor into that ravine Louise showed us the other day, the one where you can row the boat right into the underground cavern, and drop the body there?
‘That’s not such a bad idea,’ agreed John. ‘Assuming there’s nobody in that cavern, no-one will see what we’re up to and it might well take a few days for it to be discovered, by which time decomposition will have set in. The longer it is before any forensic pathologist gets a chance to examine Zak’s skull the better.’
Dan shivered slightly at John’s clinical assessment. He couldn
’t bear to think that someone as wonderful, sensitive, kind and thoughtful as Emma might ever be dragged before a court over something like this. Nor could he bear to think that she had actually caused such an injury in the first place, but she had of course been terrified. Who knows what might have happened if she hadn’t acted as she did?
No, what he and John were doing was right – or at least, wholly justifiable, reasoned Dan as they motored over to the coves in search of the ravine. It was a tragic accident triggered by that most basic of human emotions, self defence against someone you believe to be a killer and who might well kill you. Emma most certainly did not deserve to suffer as a result.
‘Ah yes, it was around here, I seem to recall,’ said John. ‘Yes, you can see the sandbank over there, where you and me got out and jigged about the other day.’
John cut the engine as they approached the fissure in the rock face through which sea water flowed and formed the deep, partly submerged ravine.
There was no merit in following the ravine deep into the cavern. They just needed to be far enough along to ensure that no-one would see them as they undertook their task.
‘How about here,’ said John and Dan nodded.
They were still in fairly deep water, but it was calmer than out to sea. Huge boulders, like sharp black teeth, jutted out of the water and waves would break with an explosion of spray and foam over their tops.
‘He could have sustained that wound by being hurled against those rocks in that great storm,’ said John. The force of smacking straight into them in appalling weather with 12ft high waves could equal that applied by the spade.’
‘I’ve thought of something,’ said Dan, anxiously. ‘That safety harness. He’s still wearing it, we never took it off him.’
‘You’re right,’ said John, his brow furrowing. ‘Why don’t we leave him wearing it? That way, it will suggest he was swept off the deck of a boat or ship – perhaps during that very storm. As a local man who’s grown up on the coast it would be nothing unusual for him to take casual work crewing for passing ships.
Wreckers Island (romantic suspense) Page 14