Fear by Night: A Golden Age Mystery

by Patricia Wentworth

  “What’s that?” said Ann in a sudden strained whisper.

  “What’s what?”

  She caught his arm and held it convulsively.

  “That noise. Listen!”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  They listened. There was no sound.

  “What did you hear?” said Charles on a whispered breath.

  “Someone moved the barrel—I’m sure they did.”

  Charles reached silently over to the lantern and put it out. He pushed it into Ann’s hand in the dark.

  “Get a little bit up the passage you came by, and don’t come out whatever happens. I’ll catch them coming down. Hop it, darling!”

  He had her out of the cellar and into the open space as he spoke. There was one gleam from his torch to show the low arch through which she must go, and then she was down on her hands and knees crawling into the passage.

  Charles felt an immense relief. This was going to be rather fun, only Ann had got to keep out of it. He risked his torch again for a moment, had a passing wonder as to where the other arched passage went to, and located the steps going up to the roof. If they had moved the barrel, they had not raised the stone yet. The steps went straight up without an atom of cover. Better get back to the cellar, and make a rush before they had time to notice the bolt.

  He had taken the first step towards the door, when panting, and stumbling to her feet, Ann caught at him. Her hands shook, her breath hurried. She whispered against his ear,

  “Someone’s coming down that way! Hector! I saw the light! Charles!”

  As she spoke his name, and before he had time to do anything at all, the flagstone at the top of the steps was tilted up and a bright shaft of light shone through the opening. Jimmy Halliday’s voice said,

  “He should be through by now.”

  And with that Charles remembered the second archway. He made for it, his arm round Ann. The torch showed a rough passage about four feet high with a sudden turn to the right a few feet in. He stooped to it, pulling her with him, and got round the bend, with a sound of voices in the cellar behind him. There were three of them all right. If he had been alone, he would have waited for them at the bend and trusted to luck, but Gale Anderson’s revolver stuck in his mind. This narrow space, and Ann, and a man who had tried to kill her only yesterday—it wasn’t good enough.

  He hurried her along, throwing the beam of the torch in front and praying for another bend. If it didn’t come soon, they’d be done. Gale Anderson would be able to pot them as they ran. He put Ann in front, and felt a coldness between his shoulder-blades. The roof had risen and they could stand upright, and suddenly there came, not one bend, but two. Charles felt an extreme relief.

  The passage went on turning and twisting. It got rougher and rougher till all trace of a made path was gone and they climbed and slipped in a rocky fissure which began to take a sharp downward slope.

  They came suddenly into the cave. One moment the torch shone back on them from black dripping walls which almost touched, and the next its long beam travelled far across a place of shadows and strange echoing sounds.

  Charles caught Ann by the arm and swung the torch about.

  “Careful—it’s awfully steep here. We’re down to the loch. Better let me go first.”

  They were on the edge of a fifteen-foot cliff. The path went down it in zigzags, with stanchions set here and there to hold to. At the foot of it the waters of the loch lapped against a pebbly beach. On the far side there were boulders piled in fantastic heaps. Charles hurried Ann across the beach and behind the rocks. He had no plan. The whole thing had come so suddenly. He thought now that he ought to have got her round the bends and gone back. There wasn’t much chance for them here in this open place. If he had been alone, he would have tried swimming for it.… Was it just possible that Jimmy Halliday kept a boat here? That was a handy little beach, and private. It might suit Jimmy pretty well to have a private landing-place. Now that he had put his torch out, he could see a faint glimmer as of reflected daylight in the direction of the loch. That meant that there was an exit above water—probably not so very much above water.

  He stared across the cave in the direction from which they had come. There was no light to show where the passage was—no light, and no sound—no sound anywhere, except the lapping of the water and Ann’s soft troubled breathing. She had sunk down on the stones, and crouched there, pressed close to him with her cheek against his shoulder. He said to himself, “I’ll count twenty. If I don’t see or hear anything by then, I’ll chance it. There might be a boat.”

  He counted twenty slowly, resisting the temptation to hurry towards the end.… Seventeen—eighteen—nineteen—twenty.… No sound, and no light. He turned on his torch and sent the ray across the water. It came to rest about twenty feet away.

  Charles’ hand stiffened, his arm stiffened, his whole body stiffened. Ann made a little choking sound against his shoulder. From the black water of the loch there rose a serpentine head and neck. It swayed a little in the ray. In a half open jaw there were teeth—there was the green gleam of an eye—there was a tangle of mane.

  There was no sound but the sound of the water moving against the rock and upon itself, as if the loch were breathing—lip, lap, lip, with a smooth continual motion. And with this motion the head and neck moved too. It seemed to have no movement of its own. It rose and fell with the rising and falling of the water.

  With an effort Charles controlled the rigidity of his hand. He made it move, and the ray of light moved with it. The green eye went out in the dark. The beam slid down the long neck and rested upon the water.

  There was something there—a long floating body with the water washing on it. And all of a sudden Charles was shaking with excitement. His arm went round Ann and hugged her.

  “Ann! Ann! It’s a submarine!”

  Ann lifted the face that had been pressed against his shoulder.

  “Charles!”

  “It isn’t a sea-serpent—it’s a submarine!” He ran the light up and down the long shape and came back to the monstrous head and neck. “Leery devils! They’ve rigged up the periscope that way to frighten off anyone who happened to be about when they came up. I thought the thing that rammed me was uncommon hard for a reptile! I say, just think of the fun they must have had! An ugly devil—isn’t it?” He brought the beam back to the staring eye and then shut it off in a hurry.

  “Charles, can we get away in it? If you’re sure it’s not a creature?”

  Charles laughed.

  “I’m sure all right. That eye is good green glass. But I don’t think we’ll meddle with it. I don’t know the first beginnings of anything about a submarine. I expect it would be a damn sight more dangerous than staying where we are.”

  “We can’t stay where we are! Charles—they must have been in this cave when I heard them talking! There was a crack that ran through to the cliff. We might find a place where we could get out. Quick—before they come! Look and see if there isn’t some way out!”

  Charles swung the torch to and fro. The beam made the shadows move and shake and run together like black quicksilver. Beyond the rocks where they crouched there was something which could hardly be called a track. It went up and up to the very roof of the cave and lost itself there.

  “Wait, and I’ll go and look.”

  “Charles, I won’t be left!”

  “But, darling—”

  “I simply won’t!”

  They scrambled up the track together. Ann’s spine crept as if a cold finger were touching it. It was all very well for Charles to say that the Thing wasn’t alive, but supposing it was.… He couldn’t know—he hadn’t touched it. Here she shuddered violently and nearly fell. Suppose it was alive—suppose it was slithering up the rocks after them at this very moment.…

  “Good Lord, darling—what a sprinter you are!” said Charles, and with that they were at the top.

  A narrow rift split the rock wall just where it joined the cavern roo
f. Charles shone the light into it, and stopped. The rift seemed to dwindle to a mere gash. A place where one might be trapped and find no way out.

  Ann looked back over her shoulder and choked on a cry.

  “They’re coming! Oh, Charles—go on!”

  “Suppose it doesn’t go on—”

  He too looked back. A bright electric lamp shone from the top of the cliff down which they had come. The mouth of the passage gaped behind it. Two men were on the cliff face. The third, Gale Anderson, held up the lamp to light them. The cause of the delay in their pursuit was plain. They had gone back for this powerful lamp.

  With a leaden sinking of the heart Charles realized what this implied. If there had been any way out of this place, the pursuers would not have risked delay. They had gone back because they knew that they had all the time they wanted. And he, Charles, had been mug enough to play into their hands by leaving the passage, where they could only come at him one at a time. He looked on into the narrow rift.

  Ann tugged at his arm.

  “Charles—Charles!”

  Jimmy Halliday had reached the foot of the cliff. Gale Anderson set down the electric lamp on a rock at a level with his shoulder, drew a revolver, took careful aim, and fired. The bullet struck a jutting rock an inch or two from Ann. The sudden noise, the sound of the impact, and the shattering echoes which followed the shot seemed for the moment to render her incapable of moving. Noise—bewildering, stunning noise. She took in no more than that, and the next thing she knew was that Charles was thrusting her before him through the rift. There was just room and no more. The width would not take Charles’ shoulders, and he had to move sideways like a crab. There was only about a dozen feet of this, and then Ann cried out and, turning, clutched him. The ray went into emptiness. Charles looked over her shoulder and turned the light this way and that.

  The rift had come to an end. They looked down into another cave. It had no beach, no floor but the waters of the loch which filled it from end to end. Far away to the right the faintest thread of daylight showed that it had an exit. The air had a heavy, musty smell.

  Charles thrust the light over the brink and looked down. They were some twenty-five feet above the water-level. Six feet below them there was a ledge. He turned the light here and there. The ledge ran away to the left and sloped towards the water. About twenty feet away there was one of those tumbled piles of great water-worn rocks. They must make for that and put up the best show they could. Impossible to stay here, where a shot or a blow would send them head down into deep water.

  He wedged the torch in a crack, took Ann by the wrists, and lowered her until her feet were on the ledge. Then he gave her the torch and dropped down beside her.

  So far, so good.

  The ledge was about two feet wide, and there was plenty of handhold. It went down sharply to within six feet of the water and ended at the pile of rocks. They were slippery and hard to climb—a low clutter of them sprawling on the edge of the pool, with one great boulder thrusting up like some huge monolith. It leaned against the cliff, and might have been the doorpost of some great unhewn door.

  They had reached this and were skirting it, when the torch showed them the ledge again, running on round the cave. In the past it might have marked some higher level of the loch. Now, here in the present, it might mean a path to safety. It ran away to a sharp turn at the head of the cave. He was not sure whether there was a break at the turn, the shadows were so heavy.

  If it ran all the way round the cave—if they could reach the faint gleam of daylight—if—

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jimmy Halliday’s bright electric lamp thrust out of the rift above their heads.

  Charles switched off his torch, pushed Ann behind the boulder, and stood covering her. This new light seemed extraordinarily brilliant after the meagre ray which had lighted them.

  Jimmy Halliday dropped to the ledge and came along it, holding up the lamp and calling out,

  “Miss Vernon! Mr. Anstruther! I’m not armed, and I want to talk to you. You can’t get away out of here, you know—there’s no way out. Let’s see if we can’t do a deal. And by gum, let’s do it quickly, for if you’ve a fancy for this place, I haven’t, and that’s flat.”

  He stopped where the ledge met the rocks, held up his light, and looked all round the cave. The roof ran up in tumbled arches and broken groins. The ledge followed its uneven way above the water. The pool slept its eternal sunless sleep. Under the bright light it had the black, still look of water which is very deep.

  “The waters that are under the earth—” The words went through Ann’s mind, and then Jimmy Halliday was saying,

  “Miss Vernon—are you there? I know you are, because there isn’t anywhere else you can be, but I’d like to hear your voice. Oh, come along now and be a sensible young lady! Would you rather do business with me or with Gale? That’s what it comes to. I’d choose me if I was you. Gale’s a bit too handy with his shooting-iron for a young lady to do business with. And he wants you dead, and I want you alive—so you speak up pretty, and we’ll see if we can’t do a deal that’ll be satisfactory to all parties.”

  “You can address your remarks to me, Halliday,” said Charles.

  Jimmy heaved a sigh of relief. He was standing where the boulders began, the ledge at this point being no more than six feet above the water-level. He spoke in a hearty voice.

  “Well, I won’t say I wouldn’t rather. I’ve done business with men all my life, and I know where I am with them. Now, Mr. Anstruther, you come out from behind that rock and we’ll have a talk. I’m not armed, and I don’t want to hurt either you or Miss Vernon. That’s why I’ve got rid of Gale. I don’t like shooting, and I don’t like violence. All I want is a straight business deal, and I don’t see why things can’t be arranged so as to satisfy everyone.”

  “Don’t go!” said Ann in Charles’ ear. “Please, please don’t!”

  Charles gave her a little shake.

  “Be quiet, darling! All right, Halliday, go ahead. We can talk very nicely as we are, I think.”

  The position was indeed all to their advantage. The huge monolith stood guard over them, its bulk screening them from the light and from Jimmy Halliday, but by moving the least shade Charles could see Jimmy whilst remaining himself unseen.

  Jimmy set down the lamp on a smooth-topped stone. A pool beneath it reflected the light.

  “Well,” he said, “it’s this way. You’ve put me in an awkward position. I’ve no ill feelings towards you, but you can’t deny that you’ve butted in on my private business—now, can you?”

  “Miss Vernon happens to be my private business,” said Charles.

  “Now—now—now!” Jimmy’s manner was that of one who soothes a froward child. “What’s the good of talking like that? You know as well as I do that I wasn’t meaning Miss Vernon. What’s the good of pretending you don’t know what I mean? I may as well tell you I don’t take you for all that stupid, Mr. Anstruther. You’d got your hands loose, and you’d got the lid off one of those packing-cases in the cellar, and if you don’t know what my business is after that, you’re just a natural born fool—and I don’t think that of you.”

  “Thanks!” said Charles. “Then we’ll take it as agreed that you’ve been running dope.

  Jimmy nodded emphatically.

  “And never been caught once! You saw my little craft in there, I take it. Pretty little bit of goods—isn’t she? Smallest submarine in the world, and a two-man job. I’d like to show you over her. Perhaps I may if we bring this deal off.” His tone was easy and conversational. “Nice little job that periscope of hers—isn’t it? And that was my idea. When I came here first there was all manner of silly stories about some kind of a sea-serpent in this loch. I tell you I’ve talked to men as sober as you and me that said they’d seen it—and that’s why I didn’t like it when Miss Vernon said she’d seen something in the loch at a time when it couldn’t have been my little craft. She was only kidding of
course, but it gave me a bit of a turn. The only time I ever saw anything myself I’d been celebrating the old lady’s birthday. It was in this very cave we’re in, and I’ve never rightly fancied the place since, but it gave me the idea, and I got a periscope rigged up as near what I’d had described to me as I could get it. I can tell you it worked like a charm. Anyone that saw us—well, they didn’t wait to see no more than they could help!” He laughed a genial laugh.

  Charles’ thoughts ran rapidly—“Why is he telling us all this? It’s a very bad sign. He can’t let us go after this. What’s he playing at?” He said aloud,

  “What’s the deal you’re offering us, Halliday?”

  Jimmy put his foot up on a step in the rock and leaned his elbow on his knee. In this confidential attitude he proceeded.

  “Well now, Mr. Anstruther, there we come to it. I take it that you’re fond of Miss Vernon. You’d like to get her out of this mess, and you wouldn’t do anything that’d upset her or get her into trouble. You’ll agree with that, I suppose?”

  “Don’t!” said Ann in a fluttering whisper. “Don’t agree to anything—because I won’t!”

  She had edged forward, and stood pressed between Charles and the great boulder. The light of Jimmy’s lamp lit up the cavern, but where she and Charles were there was a deep patch of shadow. She had the queerest feeling that this shadow was their safety. She held Charles tight lest he should step beyond it.