by Bill Kitson
I climbed into the driving seat and started the engine. I deliberately made a hash of engaging reverse gear. ‘Sorry,’ I told Bartlett, who was alongside me, ‘I’m a bit out of practice at driving.’
We reached the main road and as I glanced right and left to make sure there was no traffic, I noticed that Bartlett had relaxed. This should have been good news, but I realized that the revolver, which had been pointed at my heart, was now aimed at a very sensitive part of my anatomy. Eve wouldn’t be at all happy if I got wounded there, I thought.
Chapter Twenty-six
When we reached the clearing in the forest, I stopped the car with its front end facing the woodland. Bartlett ordered me to get out of the car first. I did so and began walking towards the rear of the vehicle.
‘Where the hell are you going?’
I turned and stared at him coldly. ‘I’m going to get a couple of shovels out of the boot. You surely don’t imagine my grandfather would have been stupid enough to leave the gold out in the open, for any Tom, Dick, or Harry to discover by accident, do you? Have you never heard the expression, “money doesn’t grow on trees”? That’s bound to be true in this case. Only an idiot would believe we could find it without having to work for our reward.’
I tried to put as much arrogance and contempt into my voice as I could. That, along with the insults, I hoped would rile Bartlett. I wanted him angry. The risk was small. He needed me, or Latimer, as he believed me to be, at least until such time as he got his hands on the gold. After that I knew it would be open season on me. Before then I hoped to provoke him into making a mistake. Not yet, but as soon as I was certain that Eve and Barbara were safe.
I held a shovel out for Bartlett to carry, an offer he declined. His refusal came in the form of a gesture with the gun that was unmistakeable. I stared at him coldly. ‘And how do you think you’re going to find the gold without me to help you?’ I gestured towards the woods. ‘If you don’t have me along to guide you, I reckon you’d be lost within half an hour of going in there.’
‘Yes, and if I don’t return safe and sound with the gold, that woman of yours and her ginger-haired friend will be dead meat, so get on with it.’
I led the way into the forest. On my previous trek I’d lost track of time, but Brian hadn’t. Earlier that morning he’d told me how long it would take to reach the various markers he’d carved for my guidance.
After we’d been walking for twenty minutes or so, I judged it to be time to stir Bartlett up a bit. Apart from that, the story I was about to tell him might make him stop and reconsider before acting rashly. ‘Have you ever been in the forest before?’ I asked him as an opener.
‘Shut up and keep walking.’
I glanced back over my shoulder. Bartlett was obviously out of condition. The walk wasn’t exactly a forced march because the terrain didn’t allow for rapid progress. Despite that, he was already perspiring freely. That gave me the perfect excuse to mop my face, and by pretending I was sweating too, I had chance to check my watch without arousing suspicion.
‘Did you know the forest has a very bad reputation? The locals believe these woods to be haunted.’
‘No, I didn’t, I told you to shut up.’ It seemed that conversation wasn’t his strong point.
I ignored the instruction. ‘I’m not saying I’ve seen the ghosts myself, but I do know others who have. They say they’re the spirits of three dead children who were murdered in these woods. Either that; or they wandered in here, got lost, and were devoured by wolves, or bears. Yes, it wasn’t that long ago that this forest was home to both bears and wolves. According to the legend, the ghosts of the dead children roam the forest for all eternity looking for a way out. The most sinister part of the legend is about their uncanny ability to foretell death. I’m told they appear to someone close to the person who is about to die, and to nobody else.’
‘Superstitious claptrap,’ he growled.
‘That’s as maybe. The story of the children might be no more than a myth but I remember something else that happened in here when I was a small boy. Two ramblers who were part of a walking party got separated from their colleagues in the forest. They were unable to find their way out, and although the others raised the alarm and search parties were sent out, they didn’t find the bodies until over two weeks later. Of course, there wasn’t a lot left of them by that time. If I remember it right, they never could tell whether they died of starvation or whether they were killed by predators. Animals,’ I added cheerfully, ‘there are plenty of carnivores in this forest. Did you know there’s a herd of wild boar in here? They’re extremely dangerous. Then there are the foxes and badgers, to say nothing of the eagles and crows. And of course the maggots. No, it’s hardly surprising they couldn’t tell which was the man and which was the woman.’
I looked at Bartlett again as I finished spinning my preposterous yarn. There was little doubt that he believed every word of it. Proof of how well he’d been taken in came via his pale expression and the nervous glances he kept casting towards the dense woodland that was all around us.
He was obviously trying to remember where he was, but any attempt to fix your bearings in such thick cover was impossible; certainly without a signpost. As I turned back to concentrate on the track ahead, I noticed the first of the carved pieces of trunk a short distance ahead. I was confident that Bartlett wouldn’t see it, let alone realize its significance, because had I not been on the lookout for it, I would most certainly have overlooked the bare rectangle where the bark had been removed.
‘We turn off here,’ I told Bartlett confidently when we reached the fork in the track. ‘The trail we were on was part of the old logging route. From now on it gets harder. This bit has only been used by deer, and possibly wild boar,’ I added, to remind him of the creatures he might encounter.
I think my intimate knowledge of the forest, as he perceived it, must have dispelled any lingering doubts he might have held regarding my identity, and I began to feel more comfortable. Apart from the shirt I was wearing, that is. It was of a thick weave that was uncomfortably hot and itchy. I made a mental note to have a word with Brian about his taste in clothing.
Always at the back of my mind during that long trek was concern for how he was faring with his mission to rescue Eve and Barbara. I felt a degree of confidence from the fact that he would be taking Bartlett’s partner in crime by complete surprise. That, along with Brian’s undoubted military prowess, bolstered my hopes, but there was always a degree of concern that something might go wrong. At least our little charade at the doorway of Brent Cottage had made Eve aware that something was about to kick off, and I knew that the girls would be ready to assist Brian if the need arose.
Quite how Brian had intended to carry out the rescue bid, I wasn’t sure. However, as I’d been changing into his clothes at Linden House I’d glanced out of the window in time to see him loading various items into the back of the Range Rover, one of which looked suspiciously like a petrol can. The significance of this became more apparent when I’d been chauffeuring Bartlett towards the forest. When we’d been travelling about a mile or so, I’d glanced in my rear-view mirror and seen a plume of smoke rising from near the cottage where the girls were being held. Had Brian torched the building, I wondered?
Although he hadn’t let me into his confidence about the rescue bid, Brian had given me clear instructions as to what to do when I reached the falls. ‘Cross over the beck using the stepping stones and as soon as you reach the other side; look up towards the Silent Lady. If I’ve been successful, you’ll know straightaway.’
‘How?’
‘Because either Barbara or Eve will be standing there, on the right hand side of the falls as you look at them. She’ll only be visible for a second or so, in case Bartlett looks that way too.’
Eventually, we reached the clearing, and I was able to appreciate how clever Brian’s handiwork had been. Even in daylight, the log cabin he had constructed was barely noticeable, camouflag
ed as it was by the surrounding trees and the dense undergrowth of briars, brambles, and bracken. To distract Bartlett from seeing the cabin rather than imparting information, I told him, ‘We need to cross the beck. The place where the gold is hidden is on the opposite bank somewhere.’
I gestured towards where Brian had told me the stepping stones had been placed. Bartlett stared at the steep banks of Thorsgill Beck. ‘How are we going to do that?’ His tone was weary, and as I glanced at him, I noticed how pale and tired he looked. That cheered me. Tired men make mistakes; their reflexes are slower, and they fail to take in minute details, which was exactly what I wanted.
Bartlett’s question should have been easy to answer, but in truth I wasn’t sure. Although Brian had assured me the stepping stones would be clear, when seen in daylight, Thorsgill Beck appeared to be in full spate; leading me to wonder if the stones would be clear of the surface. ‘Follow me,’ I told him, my tone reflecting confidence I didn’t feel.
‘Don’t worry,’ he snarled, ‘I’ll be right behind you.’
The crossing was clear, I could tell as soon as I reached the bank. There was about six inches between the surface of the beck and the top of the stones. However, their surface was damp, and the growth of moss on them could have made the crossing tricky. In the event, I made it in perfect safety, and as I reached the far side, I risked a glance towards the Silent Lady. Sure enough, exactly as Brian had promised, I caught a quick glimpse of a figure standing on the edge of the escarpment to the right of the falls. It was only momentary, but before they vanished from view I was able to recognize them, and my heart rejoiced. There was no mistaking that red-gold hair.
Bartlett had kept pace with me, two stones back to ensure I didn’t misbehave during the crossing, and once he stepped onto dry land I gestured towards the falls. ‘We go that way. From what Grandfather wrote, I believe the gold is in one of these pits, but as to which one, I’ve no idea.’
Reaching our destination took longer than I’d anticipated, as I insisted on descending into each of the bell pits to inspect them for signs of the buried treasure. Bartlett remained on top, prowling the rim of the crater, his eyes never leaving me. It must have seemed to him that I was as keen to discover the gold as he was, whereas the reality was that I was playing for time, to enable Brian to reach a place where he could launch an ambush.
None of the excavations yielded any clue that might suggest treasure within, until we came to the final one. It was close to the edge of the cliff that housed the Silent Lady, and here the waterfall at last belied its name. Although the sound was barely noticeable even after we crossed the beck, when we were nearing the falls the volume increased. It was by no means deafening, but loud enough to mask other noises. This was to my advantage, I thought.
As I stared into the bell pit, I noticed something unusual on the side facing the Silent Lady. It was a pile of rocks that appeared to have been left in purely haphazard fashion, but as I stared at them I was able to make out the shape of the two letters E and L picked out in stone. Unless someone was concentrating on that heap of rock, they would never have spotted the hidden sign, or thought it anything more than a random chance that had left them like that.
I gestured towards the pit. ‘The gold must be in there,’ I told him. ‘I think we should remove those stones and see what’s behind them.’
As I spoke I was thinking, where the hell is Brian? Why hasn’t he shown his hand before now?
‘Get down there and start digging, then.’ Bartlett’s order was curt, but then I was getting used to his abrupt manner.
‘I take it that means you’re not going to help?’
‘Do as you’re told.’
I looked at him. The trek had obviously taken its toll. It had been tiring for me, coming after a long day and a sleepless night combined with a lot of physical activity, but I was younger, much fitter, and more used to exertion, I guessed. Despite the cold weather, Bartlett was sweating profusely, his face grey and etched with weariness, or pain, or both.
I began my climb down to the base of the pit and after ordering me to go to the far side, close to the stone cairn, Bartlett followed suit. I watched him, but my eyes were trained on a spot behind and above him. There, all but hidden by the rim of the crater, was Brian, clearly assessing the scene below, judging the right moment to attack. It came, faster than any of us could have anticipated.
My attention reverted to Bartlett. At first I thought he was staring at me, but then I noticed that his gaze was at something behind me and to my left. I looked over my shoulder, but all I could see was the cliff face. I turned back towards Bartlett. He was still looking towards the same spot, his face a mask of indescribable horror. He raised his hand, the one not holding the revolver, and pointed to where he was looking. I saw that his hand was trembling and his face was ashen, the last vestige of colour drained away. ‘They’re here! The children. They’re here. Can’t you see them? Three of them, just as you said. All covered in blood, like the legend.’ His voice trembled.
I looked again, but still couldn’t see anything but the cliff, the pile of stones and some wispy grass. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘You must see them. Right there.’
I shook my head. ‘You’re imagining things.’
Above and to his right I could see Brian poised, as if about to attack. Bartlett made it easier for him by backing away towards the far wall of the bell pit, desperate to get away from whatever apparitions only he could see. ‘No, no, go away. Look, they’re pointing at me. They’re telling me it’s me they want. Can’t you see? Can’t you understand?’
From being in total command of the situation, Bartlett was now a hysterical, quivering wreck. I stepped forward, hoping to keep his attention focused on what was happening within the pit rather than what was about to take place above.
‘Go away, I tell you. Leave me alone.’ Bartlett’s plea was my cue to risk a second pace forward. As I moved, something hit me very hard in the small of my back. I felt a violent thump on my head and then everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-seven
‘He’s coming round.’
I recognized the voice and I know I was smiling even before I opened my eyes. Eve was cradling me in her arms, but as I struggled to sit up I could see we were still in the bell pit, which had become very crowded. To my right, Bartlett was seated, still staring towards the falls, but he no longer held the revolver. His wrists were secured with handcuffs, which I assumed had been provided by John Pickersgill. The constable was standing a couple of yards away from his prisoner, talking to Brian whilst making notes in his occurrence book.
Barbara was also crouched alongside me. I looked back at Eve, staring into her beautiful eyes as I asked, ‘What happened to me?’
Eve gestured beyond me. You were hit by a low-flying solicitor.’
I turned my head cautiously and noticed the limp body of a woman stretched out on the floor of the bell pit, gagged and with her hands tied. ‘Is that Ursula Moore? Is she…?’
‘Dead as a doornail,’ Eve replied cheerfully. ‘But don’t let it worry you, Adam, she’s no loss. She murdered three people and bragged that she was going to do the same to us. What’s more, she tried to, even though Brian had left her tied up.’
‘What happened to her? How did she die?’
‘Babs was standing on the cliff top, watching Brian, who was about to ambush Bartlett. The idea was that she could distract Bartlett’s attention long enough for Brian to overpower him. Suddenly, Moore ran at her and tried to knock her over the edge. Luckily I saw her in time. I stuck my foot out and tripped her up. I sent her flying, but I didn’t expect her to crash-land on you. Whether it was the fall, colliding with you, or hitting her head on the floor of the pit, we’ll probably never know, but the result is she’s got a broken neck.’
‘How did Pickersgill get here?’
‘We called at his place en route to here, but he was out, so we left a message with his wife for him to
follow us. Brian borrowed a lot of those traffic cones from the police house and left them to mark the route. We brought Moore along as a possible bargaining chip, but we never expected her to take up diving.’
‘What happened down here?’ Barbara asked. ‘One moment Bartlett was threatening you with the gun, the next he looked terrified and when Brian got to him he took the gun from him as easy as anything.’
Eve was watching me as Barbara spoke, and her words brought back my memory of the events leading up to Bartlett’s surrender. ‘Are you all right, Adam? You’ve gone quite pale.’
I shook my head, partly to clear the memory of what Bartlett had said; of what he had seen. ‘I’ll explain later. First of all, I have to try and understand it myself.’
The bell pit became even more crowded once DI Hardy and the young DC arrived, accompanied by four uniformed officers. I gathered that Pickersgill had summoned reinforcements before setting out in pursuit of Brian and the girls. They too had been given instructions to follow the traffic cones.
Two of the uniformed men departed, taking Bartlett with them and with instructions to call the pathologist and coroner. As they left, Bartlett, who as far as I could tell hadn’t spoken a word since Ursula Moore’s death, stopped alongside where I was sitting watching events unfold. He looked at me, his eyes haunted as he pleaded. ‘Did you see them? Please tell me you saw them?’
I shook my head. ‘Sorry, I didn’t see anything. Only the rocks.’
His shoulders slumped wearily, as if this was the final defeat, and the light died in his eyes.
As we watched him go, Eve asked, ‘What did he mean? Who was he talking about? What was it he thought you saw?’
‘Leave it for now, Evie. I’ll explain later, but not here. Not in this place.’
At that moment Brian came across to join us. ‘Hardy’s got the gist of what happened here and earlier, but he wants to talk to everyone concerned. I suggested we adjourn to the cabin and he can join us there later when he’s finished sorting things out and supervising the removal of the body and so on. Anyone fancy a cuppa?’