Fear by Night: A Golden Age Mystery

by Patricia Wentworth

  Ann bit her lip till it bled and went on reading.

  The morning was a very long one. After lunch she thought that the men would go out, but they sat on in the dining-room. Presently she heard them call Hector in, and in a flash she ran down the old stair into the kitchen.

  Mary was washing up the lunch things, her figure bowed, her hands moving mechanically, her face drawn and grey. Ann stood in the doorway and called to her under her breath.

  “Mary—come here!” And, as she looked round with a start, “I can’t wait any longer. They’re just sticking there in the dining-room. Show me how to get to him.”

  “Lassie, it’s no safe.”

  “It won’t ever be safe! I can’t wait!”

  “Lassie!”

  “You promised!”

  Mary made a hopeless gesture.

  “Rin out intae the byre then an’ bide till I come!”

  She was there almost as soon as Ann was, with hurry in her steps and fear in her eyes. She thrust a lantern into Anne’s hand and a box of matches.

  “Dinna licht it till I shut the stane,” she said, and began to pull away the straw in the far corner of the byre.

  There was an iron ring set there, very old and rusty. Mary pulled on it, and all of a sudden a flagstone tilted and left a gaping hole. Ann stood above it and looked down. She could see the beginning of a rude stair. Her heart quaked at the blackness and the cold, damp smell.

  “What is it?” she said in a choking whisper.

  “There’s cellars aneath the hoose. They were for hidin’ in the auld times. There was ae way in and anither way oot, so that they shouldna be trappit. For Gude’s sake gae doon if yer gaun, or we’re a’ deid thegither!” Her tone was sharp and thin with terror.

  Ann put her foot on the topmost step. The place smelt of old, dreadful things. If Charles was down there, she must go and find him. She took two more steps down, and felt as if she were going down into black evil-smelling water. Perhaps there wouldn’t be any air to breathe and she would be choked when Mary shut the stone.

  “Haste ye, lassie!”

  Ann turned up an agonized face.

  “You won’t shut it so that I can’t get out?”

  “There’s a ring aneath the stane. Ye’ll need tae pull on’t. It’s no hard tae move.”

  She pressed Ann’s shoulder and sent her stumbling down the next two or three steps. As she brought herself up gasping, the stone fell back into its place and all the light was gone. She stood there clutching at the damp wall, and realized that the lantern had slipped from her hand. The noise that it made bounding from step to step bewildered and terrified her. She waited for the noise to stop, and then the silence was more terrifying still.

  It was a minute or two before she remembered that she still had the matches. She had slipped them into the pocket of her jumper—one of those silly little pockets that aren’t really meant to hold anything, but it had held the box of matches and it held it still. She got it out, struck a match, and saw dark slimy steps going down into what looked like a black pit.

  She made herself go down five steps before she struck another match. This time the light brought her a little comfort. There were three more steps, and then a passage ran off in what she judged to be the direction of the house. The match flared and went out, but before it died she had seen the lantern lying against the passage wall. The worst of her terror left her then. It was the dark that was so dreadful. If she had a light she could bear it. And to find Charles she must have a light.

  She groped her way to the lantern, set it on end, and lighted the inch or two of candle which it contained. That feeble yellow flame seemed to her the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. She closed the glass of the lantern and, holding it up, began to make her way along the passage. It was of rock, and she guessed that it was in part a natural fissure enlarged and shaped by man. In some places the roof and sides were rough and untouched by any tool. In others the surface had been cut, and where this was the case the roof was very low. At the end she had to go down on her hands and knees. When she straightened herself up after this, she thought she must be under the house.

  She had come out into a place like a cellar. In one corner a stair ran up to the stone roof. Quite illogically, Ann felt safer here. She thought the stair must lead up to the wash-house. She held the lantern up and looked all round. The place out of which she had crawled showed a black arch about three feet from the floor. Beyond it was another arch, a little higher. And on the same side as the steps there was a bolted door.

  Ann’s heart gave a jump. If the door was bolted, it was to keep someone in—and someone meant Charles. There must be a cellar under the kitchen, and Charles was there.

  She ran to the door, set down her lantern, and tugged with both hands at the bolt. It was a huge rusty thing as thick as her wrist, and so stiff that she could not move it. But someone had been oiling it. She could feel the oil on her hands. She strained and pulled, and suddenly the bolt gave way—so suddenly that she went stumbling back against the lantern and knocked it over. The light went out. The swing of the cellar door caught her shoulder, and with a rush someone sprang upon her from the darkness and brought her down.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It was like the most dreadful nightmare in the world. Darkness, and a slippery floor where her feet went from under her. The blow that made her dizzy. Arms that held her in a cruel grip. Heavy breathing close above her head. She thought she screamed, but she wasn’t sure—and oh, what use to scream in this dreadful buried place?

  She made a small weak sound scarcely louder than a sob, and almost before she made it the grip which held her changed; she was up against Charles’ breast, and his voice was murmuring in her ear.

  “Ann! My darling! My little darling! Did I hurt you? I thought it was those swine. They left me roped up, and I’ve just got my hands free. Ann, are you hurt? Darling—darling—do say something!”

  Ann said, “Oh!… It’s you!”

  “Of course it’s me. Who did you think it was?”

  “A n-nightmare.”

  “Thanks, darling! I say, let’s get up, shall we? Ugh! I’m stiff! They left me roped up, and I’ve only just got my hands free. I’m still hobbled, so you’d better stand clear while I get up.”

  Instead of standing clear Ann gave him both her hands. She pulled, Charles pulled, and with a floundering jerk he was on his feet again. She heard him laugh, and was pulled up close.

  “I say, darling, did I give you a most awful scare? When I heard someone at the bolt, I was bound to give whoever it was the fright of his life.”

  Ann nuzzled her face into his neck and said, “Beast!” And then, with a sob, “Oh, Charles darling—you nearly killed me!”

  Charles hugged her.

  “Yes, I know, darling—but I couldn’t tell it was going to be you. I didn’t really hurt you, did I?”

  “You b-bashed my shoulder.”

  Charles kissed the shoulder.

  “Anything else?”

  “My f-feelings.” This time the tremor in Ann’s voice was nearer laughter than tears.

  Charles assuaged the feelings.

  “What did you think I was? An underground monster, or the ghost of a Highland prisoner who’d been left here to starve two or three hundred years ago?”

  “Ouf!” said Ann. “Don’t! I’m not feeling brave enough for ghosts.”

  “I think it was frightfully brave of you to come and look for me. I suppose you were looking for me?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Well, if you got in, we can both get out, and we oughtn’t to waste any time about it. By the way, what is the time?”

  Ann tried to remember. Everything seemed such a long time ago.

  “It’s early afternoon—somewhere between two and three.”

  “It would be easier to get away after dark. I suppose they’re all three here still?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Well, I’ve got to get
my ankles untied before I do anything else. I had to shuffle to the door and then jump. I thought if I fell on the feller and then beat his head on the floor I might be able to make him see reason. I say, darling, you didn’t come here in the dark, did you?”

  “I’ve got a lantern, but you knocked it out.”

  “Good! I’ve got a torch, but I want to save it.”

  They found the lantern, lighted it, and set to work on the rope which tied Charles’ ankles together. There wasn’t much that Jimmy Halliday didn’t know about knots, and it wasn’t going to be a very quick business.

  “What did you think when I didn’t come?” said Charles over the knots.

  “I thought you were dead,” said Ann, and the lantern shook in her hand.

  “I say, steady with that light, darling! What a little owl! Why should I be dead?”

  The lantern shook again.

  “You nearly were, weren’t you? Charles, tell me about it. What happened? You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “Only my feelings—same like yours, darling.” He began to laugh. “You are an owl! Did I feel as if I was hurt when I jumped on you? There goes one of the blighted knots! Well, this is what happened. You know when I left you—well, going across the strait I met a sea-serpent, and it rammed me.”

  “Charles!”

  “Honest it did—and smashed my boat. I say, darling, you’ll be prepared to swear I was sober—won’t you?”

  Ann shivered.

  “Charles—what is it? I saw it too—in the moonlight. And then a cloud went over the moon, but I could hear it—swimming. And, Charles, Mary says it’s a devil, and she told me to keep away from the water or it would get me. That was why I was so afraid when you didn’t come, because I knew you wouldn’t go away and just leave me.”

  Charles spared a hand from the knots to pat her shoulder and then went on again.

  “Whatever it is, it rammed me good and hard. I’ve got some ideas about it, but I shan’t tell you what they are. When we get out of here I’m going to get to the bottom of it whatever it is. Well, I had to go to Ardgair to get my boat mended. They took all day over it, and coming back there was a beast of a fog, and I took a toss on one of those damned hairpin bends and went over the cliff. I gather that the toss was arranged by a bloke called Hector, because I heard your Mr. Halliday telling him to make sure he’d cleared the track again. I think he’d banked it up on the inside with some good selections of the local boulder. There are several places where it wouldn’t take much to send you over.”

  “You’re sure you weren’t hurt?”

  “I told you I wasn’t.” He patted her again. “I don’t mind telling you I was like you for a bit—I thought I was dead. And when I came round there was about a ton of car between me and the outside world. She’d turned turtle and boxed me in, and there I might have been till now if your kind friends hadn’t come along and got me out. I should say they’d been waiting for Hector’s little smash and blew in to pick up the bits. Hector and that prize swab Anderson seemed a good deal peeved that I wasn’t dead, but your Mr. Halliday seemed to think it was all right as it was. I’m afraid I made rather a poor show, but they hauled me out from under the car, and just as I was getting ready to say thank you, the swine Hector sat on my head and the other two tied me up. I landed a couple of good kicks, but I’m afraid they didn’t do much damage. When they’d tied me up, they shoved a gag in my mouth, slung a blanket over me, and carried home the corpse.”

  “I saw them out of my window,” said Ann—“and that’s when I really did think you were dead. I saw them carry you in.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “I knew it was. And I went down and found out about this place.”

  “Only one more knot,” said Charles. “Yes, there we come to it—what is this place?”

  “Cellars under the house. They’re awfully old. There’s one way in through the wash-house floor, and another through the cow-shed. That’s how I came. Mary showed me.”

  Charles frowned over the last knot.

  “Then that’s the way we’ll be going as soon as I’ve got this undone.”

  “They won’t let us go.”

  Charles looked up with a set, frowning face.

  “Look here, my dear, what is this show? What are they after, and how far will they go? Is it old Paulett’s money, or is there something else as well?”

  Ann’s voice came back in a slow whisper.

  “It’s the money—and it’s me—like you said. If I’m dead, Gale Anderson’s wife gets the lot, so Gale Anderson wants me to be dead. He tried to kill me yesterday afternoon.’

  “Ann!”

  “It’s all right—he didn’t. But it was a most frightfully near thing. You say, how far will they go? Well, Gale Anderson will go as far as murder, and he’ll rather enjoy doing it. He pushed down boulders on me, and I had to jump off the cliff into the loch. Hilda would be getting the money all right if Jimmy Halliday hadn’t fished me out.”

  “Halliday?”

  Ann gave a little shaky laugh.

  “Jimmy is my noble preserver. My skirt was caught up on a rock, and he threw me a knife to cut it away. I only did it just in time, because that beast Gale was crawling along the cliff to get at me.”

  “Halliday saved you?”

  Ann nodded.

  “He’s my noble preserver. He doesn’t want me to be dead, because he wants to marry me. You see, Hilda having the money isn’t as much fun for him as it is for Gale. Besides, if Uncle Elias has died by now, Hilda’s out of it. This is where you come in.”

  “Where do I come in?”

  “Well, Jimmy does think he’s awfully fascinating, but still I don’t think even he was quite sure that I’d marry him all in a hurry like that. You come in as the turn of the screw. Jimmy put it very nicely. He said that if I married him, he could be sure you’d hold your tongue because you wouldn’t want to hurt my husband, but that otherwise he was afraid things would be very dangerous and unpleasant for you. He seemed quite sorry about it. I don’t think Jimmy cares about murdering people. He’s not cold-blooded like Gale Anderson or blood-thirsty like Hector, but all the same I don’t think he’d stick at killing someone if it was a choice between that and his own safety.”

  “His safety?” said Charles. “What’s he been up to? There’s something besides this, isn’t there? Do you know what it is?”

  “N-no. But there’s something. He as good as told me that. He said he wanted to settle down and get married because his business was a risky one and he wanted to get out of it before anything happened to upset the old lady. He is a good son, you know.”

  “Damn his being a good son! What’s he been doing? Smuggling dope?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think it might be that?”

  “Well, it would be an awfully good place for it. I expect the old lady goes down with her bonnet-boxes full of cocaine.”

  “Oh no, she wouldn’t! She’s frightfully respectable.”

  “Well, I know how I’d do it,” said Charles. “I’d have a minion who delivered groceries once a week or so—tinned food and all that sort of thing—bottles—plenty of bottles—things with screw tops. And the returned empties wouldn’t be empty at all—they’d be neatly packed with dope. I say, darling, that’s one way out—we can make him an offer for the goodwill of the business and set up in the dope-running line.”

  “Charles, do be serious!”

  “Darling, when I’m serious I can’t see any way out at all. I’m afraid I was a bit optimistic when I spoke as if we could just walk out through the cowshed. I don’t quite know how I’m going to get you off the island. And even if we had a boat, we wouldn’t be much forrader, because my poor old bus is quite definitely a wreck.”

  “Jimmy’s got a car.”

  “I hoped he had. I thought I’d found a garage in the ruins the other night, but it was too dark to make sure. Well, that’s that—and we might steal a boat after dark, but I’m awfully afraid th
ere’s nothing to be done by daylight, and that means you’ll have to go back now and come down again at night.”

  “Charles, I can’t!”

  Ann’s heart quailed within her. To have to do it all over again, to have to go back—she just didn’t feel that she could do it.

  Charles put his arms round her.

  “Darling, I simply don’t see any other way. And it will be the last lap. You’ve been so awfully brave.”

  “Oh, Charles—don’t make me!”

  “Darling, what else can we do? Steady on, and just think. That brute Anderson’s got a revolver—he shoved it up against my ear before they started to tie me up. I don’t know if the others are armed, but I should think it’s practically a dead cert that they are. Hector would have a knife if he hadn’t got anything else, but I should think they’ve all got firearms. We simply haven’t got an earthly chance of getting away in daylight. You’ll have to bolt me in and go back. If one of them comes down alone, I can make sure of laying him out. If they come two together, I’d still have a pretty good chance, because they’d be expecting me to be tied up. Well then, if they didn’t come back, the third man would probably come and look for them, so with a bit of luck I might lay them all out and go off with you in style. And failing that, you’ll have to come down when the house is asleep and let me out. You see you must bolt me in, or I won’t get a chance of springing a surprise on them.”

  Ann shocked back from that. To push the bolt between her and Charles was to cut herself off from her only helper. She was to do that and then go back to Mrs. Halliday, who had turned against her, to Jimmy, who had made her feel his brute strength, to Gale Anderson, who had tried to kill her. She said these names to herself, but she did not say Hector’s name. Just why she feared him so much she could not have said, but she did fear him—more than Jimmy, who meant to force her into marrying him—more than Gale, who had come within an ace of murdering her.

  She looked at Charles in a dumb misery of fear.

  “What is it, darling? Ann, what is it?”

  “I can’t lock you in!”

  “Darling, you must. Don’t you see, if the bolt’s drawn back, they’ll know someone’s been down here, and I won’t get a chance of surprising them. Do go on being brave for just a little bit longer. I know it’s beastly for you, but I’ve got a plan. As soon as you’ve got away I shall kick up the devil’s own row here—shout and yell, and bang with my heels, and all that sort of thing. There are some packing-cases over there that I can have a go at. By the way, that’s where I got my idea about the dope from—there’s some fairly suspicious looking stuff in them. I was having a look at it with my torch when you started in on the bolt. Well, if it is dope, and they think I’m kicking the stuff about, someone’s pretty well bound to come down and see what’s happening.”