‘We’d better get the police back here. They’ll need to make inquiries and no doubt spend hours poking around. Oh lord, just what we need at this point. Can you put the Klargester in somewhere else?’ she asked anxiously.
‘I’ll move well over to one side of the shaft. It shouldn’t be a problem. Are you going to call the police? I reckon it’s been there a good long while. Still, shouldn’t take them too long to remove it and do whatever they need to do.’
‘OK. I’ll call them. You guys can get back to work for now.’
She dialled the number and gave them all the information. They promised to get there as soon as they could.
‘It’s been there for quite some time,’ she told the police officer. ‘No need to break your necks getting here.’
It was a subdued group who carried on working. Something like this didn’t happen very often and they all felt slightly awkward at the thought of someone’s body lying buried nearby. When the police arrived, they all downed tools and went over to watch. The two policemen went to look down the hole.
‘We need to get climbing ropes organised and someone will have to go down there. Like the lady said, he’s obviously been there for a long time. I’ll call the station and we’ll get the other lads out. You going to tape it all off?’ he asked his colleague.
‘Sure. I’ll get some posts erected and do it.’
He produced some plastic posts and attached striped hazard tape to it.
‘Keep away from the site, please,’ he told the men watching.
‘Comes to summat, doesn’t it?’ Jimmy said aloud. ‘Can’t even dig a bloody cess pit without someone interfering with it. Right lads, nothing else to see for a bit. We’ll all come over to watch you later,’ he said to the policeman.
They all went back, working somewhat slower than they had earlier. They were all too interested in seeing what was going to happen next. They didn’t have to wait for long before another van arrived, this one with climbing gear and someone to abseil down on the ropes.
‘Let us know if we can help,’ Bill told them.
‘We’ll be fine, thanks.’
The climber attached the rope to himself and to another officer to act as an anchor. Slowly, he went down the side of the old mineshaft, hanging on to the rope as he did so.
‘OK,’ he called up. ‘A couple more feet should do it.’
He tried to balance himself on the ledge where the body lay and suddenly slipped.
‘Whoa, I’m gonna need to hang on,’ he called. ‘Hold me tight, please.’
‘I’ve got you,’ called the anchorman, bracing against the nearby mound of excavated earth.
‘I’ll grab the other end of the rope,’ one of the crew told him. ‘Don’t want you slipping down there as well.’
The activity went on for some time, until finally the body was hauled out of the shaft. They had taken a stream of pictures of the remains lying in their final state and then the corpse was put onto a sort of stretcher before being lifted clear. A forensic officer arrived on the scene and made a cursory examination before taking it to the lab to conduct the post mortem.
‘Been busy round this area,’ he said aloud. ‘I think this chappy met his end a good few years ago mind. OK. Let’s load him into the vehicle and get him back. Thanks, everyone.’
He drove away and they were left with the two original policemen. They had all been questioned and given statements.
‘Another quiet day at the ranch then,’ Tom commented as they packed up to leave.
‘We’ll have to fill in the old mine shaft, I guess, said Drew.
Rosie was somewhat thrown by this latest development.
‘When they’ve finished peering down it. Don’t know how long that’s going to take them. All a bit strange really.’
‘Do you think it was anything to do with Grace and Harry?’
‘Who are they?’ Bill asked.
‘The old couple who owned this place originally. She died suddenly in the night and he left it, saying he didn’t want to be here any more.’
Drew had remembered the story from the chats at the pub
‘I suppose it could be. There was certainly something strange going at the time.’
Tom cast his mind back to the time when the village was speculating about the farmer leaving so suddenly. He remembered his parents talking about it.
‘Ah well, no doubt we’ll hear all about it tomorrow. I’ll get off home now if that’s OK? Bye.’
‘Cheers, Bill.’
Gradually, they all headed off home.
Drew left things taped off round the new hole he was digging and Rosie set the security cameras.
‘As someone said, an ‘interesting’ day,’ he remarked. ‘Let’s go and get cleaned up. I fancy a pub meal tonight. How do you feel?’
‘I s’pose so. Mind you, the talk will all be about the body we found.’
‘If it’s a problem, we can go somewhere else,’ Drew offered.
‘Not really. I just feel exhausted. A shower might fix me up. I’ll see later on, if that’s OK with you? You can go out, anyway. You don’t have to wait for me.’
They had got used to the habit over the weeks of sharing their evening meal.
‘OK. As you like.’
In the end, she did go out to the local pub with Drew. The comments regarding the latest find were limited to a few random questions, so they were able to eat in peace. They spoke about it between themselves and decided firmly that it was a body that had been left in the mine, possibly by Harry and Grace. With nobody to put them right, it was clearly only their speculation.
The police were back the following day to search the mineshaft some more. They found no more signs to indicate whether the man had died in there, and if so, why. There was a large raft of concrete beneath where the body had rested, put down there by the local council when the mine was capped. Drew was told they could now fill it in, which he duly did. Hopefully, it was all now finished with and they could continue with the build unhindered.
‘So who do you think did him in?’ asked Bill.
‘We really don’t know,’ the policeman told him. ‘They’’ve told us it seems he was hit on the head with something, maybe a large pot. I suspect the old couple who lived here may have been responsible but as they’re both long dead, we’ll never know the whole truth. Whoever did it dumped him down in the shaft, where, as you know, he was found. Probably we’ll never know any more about what went on at the time.’
‘How about old Dennis? Any news on his killer?’ another of the workers asked.
‘Nothing as yet. We’re still looking for Martha. I suspect she knew a bit more about it all than she let on.’
‘You can’t think she did it?’ Rosie asked.
‘We simply can’t be sure. Anyway, let us know if you see anything of her.’
‘Heavens, I wouldn’t have thought she was strong enough to actually kill her man. And if she did, I wonder why? She seemed very upset the day she found him in the barn.’
‘Who knows what goes on behind closed doors?’ the policeman remarked.
‘He always seemed to, well, sort of bully her,’ Drew told them. ‘Maybe he went a step too far on this occasion.’
‘It’s certainly a thought,’ said the policeman. ‘As I said, let us know if you hear anything.’
‘Sure.’
They drove away and everyone reluctantly went back to work. Rosie remained thoughtful. After his suggestion that Martha was under suspicion, she wondered how plausible that really was. Why would she have come over from the farm, to fetch Rosie? Why didn’t she simply disappear at the time, instead of waiting around for well over a day? It was all somewhat puzzling. She shook her head and turned to get on with the day’s work.
The conversation whenever they stopped working was always the same. “Who did it?” and “Where’s Martha gone to?” Speculation was rife and each had their own ideas about where the woman could be. She had no relatives, as far as anyone kne
w, and her friends were also minimal. Typically, at one of their morning tea breaks, talk turned to the same old topic.
‘I reckon she went up-country somewhere,’ one of them suggested.
‘Nah, she was Cornish all the way through. Probably got it written right through her middle like a stick of rock from Blackpool.’
‘I think she’s probably camping or summat,’ suggested Jimmy. ‘She’s a tough old bird and could easily put up with the weather.’
‘Maybe,’ Drew agreed. ‘But now it’s time you were back at work.’
They left their flasks and food packages in the caravan and went back to their tasks. Left on her own again, Rosie began to look on various websites at kitchens and items for finishing off the house. It would be a long time before she could actually buy them but there was no harm in seeing what she might choose. A few moments later, Drew came back.
‘We seem to have lost the nail gun. Have you seen it anywhere?’
‘No. Not at all. When did you last have it?’
‘Latish on, yesterday. I thought we’d left it in here. Maybe it was put in the shed.’
‘Sorry, I haven’t seen it. You must have left it somewhere else.’
He went off again and she heard no more until lunchtime.
‘Did you find the nail gun?’ she asked, when they came back for their lunch.
‘Nope. Seems to have disappeared completely. I’m afraid it’s been nicked.’
‘But how? It could only have been stolen if one of you left it lying around. And there was nothing on the security cameras today.’
‘When did you put them on?’ asked Bill.
‘When we were leaving. Soon after you lot had gone home,’ Drew told them.
‘Luckily, it wasn’t the most expensive of materials we have here. You’d better get another one when you’re next ordering from the suppliers.’
Rosie was irritated they had lost it but knew it wasn’t worth the anguish of reporting it.
The next theft was the following night. A collection of wood had disappeared. Again, there was nothing recorded by any of the cameras.
‘I think someone has worked out where our cameras are placed. I need to move them, I think. It’s ridiculous to imagine anyone can just come and steal the stuff I’ve paid for.’
Rosie was working herself into something of a bad mood.
‘Yes, you will need to move them. But do it when the others have gone home. Just to make sure it isn’t one of them taking stuff,’ Drew said.
‘You surely don’t think one our lads could be stealing from us?’
‘Not really. But they do all know the locations of the cameras. I reckon anyone could get past them.’
‘This is really troubling. I think I’m going to stay on site for a while.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’d be putting yourself in danger. Your life is worth a helluva lot more than a few pieces of wood.’
‘I know all that, but if it’s known I’m here, and if it is one of our chaps, then they would never try anything, would they?’
‘Depends on how desperate they are,’ he replied. ‘But you may be right. Letting everyone know there’s someone staying here may do the job. But I shall stay, not you.’
‘It’s my site and my money at risk,’ she protested.
‘I won’t let you stay here on your own, so don’t argue with me. If anyone is staying on site, it’s me. I’ll come back home to collect my stuff and I’ll sleep here. No more arguments.’
‘I am going to argue.’
‘I’m not listening.’
So saying, he went outside again. She sat there, thinking about his words. He does make some sense. Maybe we could share the staying over. It would doubtless mean a load more arguments but it wouldn’t be forever. For now, she would accept his offer and let him be the one to stay. It would mean a few changes in their routine but it could be worth it.
She spoke to him again when he came in for lunch.
‘OK, Drew. Thank you. I’ll accept your offer to stay over tonight, but it’s my turn tomorrow.’
‘Let’s argue about tomorrow when it comes. I’ll come home for supper and then come back here. I’ll bring a small TV set with me, and I’ll be fine.’
She nodded her agreement.
It seemed strange to be alone in someone else’s house. She kept hearing noises throughout the evening and got up to look out several times. She finally went to bed, but still felt uneasy. She wondered how Drew was getting on. Was he asleep, or hearing strange noises too? She had moved the cameras before leaving and hoped that would prove effective. She began to wonder if she was doing the right thing in building at the site in the first place. She turned over again and tried to sleep.
Suddenly there was a crash, which sounded like some sort of explosion to her over-sensitised ears. She shot out of bed and went through to the other room. Everything seemed to be in order. She wondered if it had been Drew returning, and went to tap on his door. He wasn’t there, of course, and she began to think she might have imagined the sound. Perhaps I fell asleep and dreamt it? She peered through the windows but all seemed quiet. She went back to bed and tried to settle down again.
At five-thirty, she gave up and rose, wondering what on earth she would do until it was time to go to the site. She sat pondering over a coffee and had finally decided it was indeed her overactive imagination at work. She picked up a book and tried to read, but Rosie Breeden was not a lady who could sit by idly.
A further two hours of twitching, then she gave in and decided to take breakfast to the site, so packed up a bag with bacon, eggs and bread to make toast. She would use the tiny cooker in the caravan and, hopefully, wake him to the enticing smell of bacon cooking. She was about to set off when she thought of the frying pan.
When she went back inside to collect it, she saw a glass pane had been broken. It was a smallish window near to the door. How could she not have noticed it before? There was broken glass lying on the floor. It must have been the cause of the noise she had heard in the night. Clearly, it was someone trying to break into Drew’s house. She found a piece of wooden board and stuck it into the frame, hoping it would be safe. She drove to the site.
‘Morning, Drew,’ Rosie said, as she saw he was already up and dressed.
‘I’ve brought stuff to make breakfast.’
‘Great. I could eat a horse between two mattresses. How did you sleep?’
‘Not well, actually. Someone tried to break into your house. They broke the little window near the door. I heard the bang as it broke and shot out of bed. I only noticed it was broken later … as I was leaving actually.’
‘Oh lord. It’s been deathly quiet here. Nothing to disturb me at all.’
‘So someone knew I was home alone and tried to scare me? How do you think that works?’
‘Sounds feasible. How did you leave it?’
‘I put a piece of wood over the broken bit. It should be safe.’
‘I’ll go back and look. After I’ve eaten the breakfast you promised me. Don’t worry about it, love. We’ll get to the bottom of it all.’
‘Makes me think, though. It’s me they’re trying to put off. I hate to think of you suffering, too.’
Chapter 5
Drew went back to his home soon after they had eaten. He wanted to change his clothes anyway. He looked around outside the cottage and saw several footprints. Some of them were undoubtedly Rosie’s, but one or two may have belonged to the would-be intruder. He saw a rock nearby, so this was, he assumed, the tool used to break the window. Rosie had made a reasonable job of leaving it secure, so he let himself inside. He would repair it later.
All the same, it was rather worrying. Who had known she was there alone? The workers all knew he was planning to stay on site. That meant they must all have realised she was by herself. He wondered which one of them had been to his place and broken the window. He shook his head, not wanting to believe any of them would do something like this. After all, they wer
e all being paid by Rosie to work on the new build.
Rosie linked up the cameras to her computer and ran through the footage. It was all clear and clean. No wonder, she thought, whoever’s causing trouble followed me home, to Drew’s place. Maybe they should tell the police? She’d leave it up to Drew. Meantime, she needed to plan the evening. He was determined not to let her stay here on her own, but if she did, it might be useful to figure out if the unknown person would be able to locate her. It might be somewhat scary, but she was determined to try it out for herself, whatever Drew said to put her off.
They argued intermittently throughout the day but she finally won her case, after everyone else had left the site. Hopefully, no one would know who was there or not … unless they were watching to see who came back. Surely nobody would want to sit around in the dark, waiting on the off-chance? They decided that as she was staying, Drew would drive her car back home and leave his van parked in place at the site. He went back to cook supper and returned with it, kept hot for them to eat together. They looked around before he left and saw no one.
‘I’ll see you in the morning. I suppose I’d better be the one to bring breakfast tomorrow. You’ve got your phone ready, haven’t you?’
She nodded.
‘Plenty of battery left in it?’
‘Yes, stop fussing. But thanks for caring.’
‘You are certain you want to do this?’
‘Yes. Thank you. Now go away and take the dirty washing up with you.’
She was laughing as he left, wearing a hoodie to hide his identity.
‘Take care,’ she called as he left.
One more check of the cameras and she switched off her computer. She put on the television and lay back on the bed. There was nothing she wanted to see so she put on her iPod. Having missed out the previous night, she was soon in a deep sleep. She neither saw nor heard the intruder who came to take away a number of wooden planks and various pieces of equipment. Whoever it was, they were extremely quiet committing the theft, and made a swift exit from the site.
Next morning, she woke early, her iPod still on and looping through her play list for the umpteenth time. She turned it off, stretched, then put on her computer and connected her cameras. It felt surreal, as she watched someone taking the various items and sneaking off. How on earth had they managed it without her hearing anything? She cursed herself stupid for falling asleep and for wearing her iPod all through the night. What on earth would Drew say when he arrived? She had slept too deeply and all this had taken place after dark. She stood up, stretched again and looked outside. As she pushed against the door, she saw an envelope attached to the handle. She took it inside and opened it:
The Phoenix Project Page 6