After the Fire (22 page)

“Told yer I seed someone goin’ down ‘ere, Vicar, din’ I?” The older man’s strong accent hung in the damp air.

“That you did, Henry. Let me handle this now. I’m afraid the crypt and undercroft are off limits due to flooding. They have been for a while, now.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason apologized. “My girlfriend gets a little carried away with her enthusiasm for old churches, at times. It really is a beautiful building. We were wondering about the town? It seems deserted, but the houses all look lived in. We were after somewhere to eat.”

“Ah, yes. There is a community outing to the mainland today, so everything is closed.”

“And you didn’t go?” Freddie frowned.

“I have a sermon to write. Now, if you don’t mind?” The vicar indicated the way back up to the main church building.

With a firm hand on the small of her back, Freddie had no choice but to go back up the stairs.

It’s not flooded, there’s no water. The electricity wouldn’t work if it was. Why is he lying?

While Jason apologized again, she shoved her hands in her pockets and wandered slowly down the aisle to the main door, studying the windows as she went.
What are they hiding? Someone’s been watching us since the moment we got here. We’re close, I can feel it
.

The churchyard was hot after the damp, chill inside, and she eased her shoulders in the sunshine. Waiting for her glasses to darken, she put a hand over her eyes to shield them. She heard Jason come up beside her.

“Did you see it, Jace?”

“Yes, I did—tunnels. Not what you expect to find in a church crypt. Under the circumstances, I’ll forgive you.” Jason snapped photos of the church and Freddie. “The vicar’s been here fifteen years. He says the flooding was recent.”

“Thank you. There are rather a lot of crates down there, too. Something else you wouldn’t expect to find in a crypt. Unless it’s the spare hymnbooks or altar cloths.” She pulled out her scrunchie and retied her hair. “I’d like another look as soon as we can.”

“The vicar is standing in the doorway. We’d best make a move. I somehow doubt we’d get back in the main door, even if we asked nicely and made an appointment.” He took her hand and started walking.

“There has to be another way in. A door around the side that leads to the undercroft, maybe.” She paused as they reached the sign by the lychgate. “Or not. I don’t think the vicar looked much like a Patricia, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Freddie nodded to the sign. “Vicar: The Revd. Patricia C. Stevens.”

“If he’s been here fifteen years, then something is definitely not right. It’s a new sign.”

“Plus the fact, he’s the bloke from the house in the square earlier.”

Jason’s phone beeped. He reached into his pocket and pulled it. “Oh look, it’s a text from the boss. ‘Return to office. No need for further investigation. Debrief here ASAP’.”

Freddie’s stomach roiled in shock. “Do you think he knows we’re here?”

“I think that’s more than likely. In fact I’d say it’s a definite possibility.” Jason tapped out a quick response. “Sorry. Unable to return for a few days. In the field. Back middle of next week.”

The reply was instant. “Field work not necess now. Return to office ASAP for debrief. No debate.”

Freddie’s phone beeped. “I’m not picking it up. I’m not going home. I can’t. Not now. There is something in that church crypt, and I want to know what it is.”

“For once I agree. Staying here may be dangerous, but we’re so close, now. I suggest we lay low. Come back after dark.”

“I can see those cogs in your brain working from here. What are you thinking?”

“We go back to the beach, and have our picnic. Sunbathe a while, then make a show of leaving. Go around the headland a little, anchor there and wait until dark. Then sail back to the cove and come up here. It’s a full moon tonight. We’ll have plenty of light.”

****

Freddie jumped off the dock onto the sand. It would be quieter than walking on the wooden planks. The surf crashed onto the beach, the silver moonlight glistening on the dark waves. It really was beautiful. She hadn’t noticed before just how much beauty there was in the world.
You really did a marvelous job of creation, Lord. Why did I never notice it before? Just like the hymn says, I once was blind, but now I see.
A thud indicated Jason joined her. The flashlight flicked on.

“Let’s hope they left the church unlocked.” Jason’s profile was outlined against the moonlit sky. “If not then we find another way in.”

“Sounds good. What about the house? The journal said he left photos and so on somewhere on the island. The house is probably the place he left them. I want to go back and—”

“Not tonight. The church has to be the priority, for the moment.” Jason’s tone left no room for debate.

“All right.” She took one step to find Jason holding her back. She glanced up, wondering what she’d done now. Then the penny dropped. “Please, it wouldn’t be the same if you didn’t pray.”

Jason closed his eyes. “Lord, we know what we are about to do is fraught with danger. We know that the men we are seeking are actively trying to take our lives. However, this seems to be our only shot at getting the answers we need. We ask that You go before us, guide us, protect us, and bring us safely home. In Jesus name, amen.”

“Amen.” Freddie smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He slid his hand into hers. “Let’s go.”

The woods were quiet this time, devoid of the birdsong from before. Even the earth swallowed their footfalls. The village was in total darkness. No street lamps illuminated their way.

“Guess they didn’t pay their council tax or electricity bills.”

“I guess not.”

Freddie half expected to see a ghostly horseman gallop up to the pub and rap on the shutters with his whip as they passed it. They walked to the church, the journey this time seeming shorter than before.

“Here goes.” She tried the door. It swung open with a loud creak. “Shhh.”

“It won’t listen to you. Inanimate objects never do.”

“Really? That’s why the saucepans continue to boil over after I tell them to stop.”

“Aye, that’d be it.”

She shone the flashlight and headed down the nave to the crypt. She pushed the door. This time it swung open quietly with no resistance. “That’s interesting. It’s a lot easier to open now.”

Jason touched the hinges, his fingers coming away black. “It’s been oiled since this morning.” He raised his left hand, holding the flashlight at shoulder height. “I’ll go first this time.”

“Sure.”

“You’re not going to argue?”

“Age before beauty. It works for me.” She grinned.

Jason shook his head and headed down the stairs. Freddie waited at the top, glancing around. They were close to solving this now, she could feel it. But there was something else, something she’d not felt before on any job. She’d been in dangerous, life and death situations heaps of times, but this was different.

What is it? What is causing me to feel like this?

“All right. Come on down.”

Jason’s voice distracted her, and she moved swiftly down the stairs. There were more crates than there had been previously and she moved to them.

“None of them have any markings. Let’s start with these.” She put her flashlight in her pocket. She picked up the crowbar from the side and tried to pry open one of the crates.

Jason’s hand closed over her arm.

“What?”

“Let me do it. You can hold the light.” He held out the flashlight. “It’s not up for debate.”

“All right.” Freddie gave him the crowbar and took the flashlight. “Is this some kind of a macho thing?”

Jason slid the end of the crow bar into the corner of the box. “No, it’s more of an ’I’m physically stronger than you, and I don’t want you exerting yourself and precipitating another asthma attack‘ thing. Now shine your light, please.”

“Sure, I’ll let my little light shine,” she said, the words to a long forgotten hymn running through her mind.

“You’re…silly…” Jason grunted with effort.

“That’s me.” The lid fell onto the floor with a loud crash. “Well, that’s one way to do it. I thought we were meant to be being quiet.”

“I’ll do better with the next one. Got the camera ready?”

She nodded and pulled away the top layer of straw and packing. Her stomach plummeted.

“Guns, lots of guns.” She propped the flashlight on a pile of crates, aimed the camera and started taking photos.

Jason worked on opening the next crate. He caught the lid before it crashed to the floor. “Drugs. My guess would be heroin. He really does have his fingers in so many pies.”

“Like the journal said. You know, despite everything we’ve discovered, part of me was really hoping there’d be nothing here.” Freddie took photos, and then took one of Jason as he turned his attention to another crate. This one was much larger and sealed. “Need a hand with that one?”

Jason panted with effort, but shook his head. “I got it. Thanks, anyway.” After a few minutes he pulled the lid off. It fell to the floor with a loud crash.

Freddie pulled at the straw, then backed away a pace or two, a loud scream working its way up and out. She dropped the camera. Her hand covered her mouth, bile rising in her throat too quickly for her to contain. Doubling over, she heaved several times, averting her gaze from the headless corpse lying in the open box beside her.

23

“Freddie?” Jason put a hand on her back. What did she see to make her react like that? He glanced into the box and turned away, fighting the nausea that filled him.
Oh, Lord, let his death have been swift.

“Who is it?” Freddie’s face was pale as she straightened up.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it Rafferty?”

“It could be. Without a head it’s going to take a pathologist to identify him.” Jason took another minute to collect himself, and then picked up the camera. He took several photos, noting that the arms and legs lay next to the torso. “Maybe this is how they dispose of people who cross them.”

Freddie took a deep breath, keeping her eyes averted. “Death by dismemberment? Sounds like something out of a horror movie. Where do you suppose the head is?”

Jason shrugged, heaving the lid back onto the makeshift coffin. “I don’t know.”

“As long as it’s not on a spike somewhere.” She turned, looking for the tunnels they saw earlier. “I thought it was here, but maybe not.” She sighed and leaned against a pile of crates.

“What was here?”

“The other door.”

“It is. The crates you’re leaning on are in front of it. Want to give me a hand moving them?” Jason moved over to her.

“What happened to your macho “I can do it” stance?”

“I’m giving women’s lib a chance to help. You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all. We’re moving them one at a time, I hope. Don’t think even the two of us could shift the whole pile at once. At least, not silently.”

Even so, they shifted the boxes carefully.

He pulled open the door and shone the flashlight into the darkness.

“It’s a tunnel.”

“I see your amazing powers of observation are back, double-oh-Ef.” He teased her lightly. “Are you feeling better, now?”

“A little.” Freddie gave him a weak smile. “Let’s go.”

Water dripped from the ceiling and their footsteps echoed as they headed down the tunnel. Jason slid his hand into Freddie’s.
I can’t hear the sea, so we can’t be under it yet
.
She doesn’t look too good. Is it just finding the body or something else?

“Are you all right? We can go back to Debs’s place if you want. Come back in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m all right, and no, I don’t want to go back. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen dead bodies before, but that was just...” She broke off and paused. “That was just brutal.”

“Yeah, it was.”

A plink of dripping water was the only sound other than their echoing footsteps and sporadic conversation.

“Jason, do you think they’d do that to us?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, there would be far easier ways of doing it.”

“I guess.” She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose. “Flash the light to the left. There’s something there.” A large wooden door, set back a little and smelling strongly of creosote, showed up in the beam of the flashlight. Freddie reached out a hand and tried it, not surprised when she found it locked. She dropped the pack to the floor and rummaged through it, pulling out a small tool kit.

“And there I was thinking that I was the Boy Scout.”

“I didn’t learn this in the Girl Guides. More like in spy school.” Freddie jiggled the lock, smiling as the door swung open. “Ta da!”

Jason shone the flashlight into the darkness. “Another passage. We need to be careful we don’t get lost. I don’t suppose you have any chalk or string in...?” He broke off grinning as Freddie produced a ball of string from her bag. “Are you sure you’re not a Girl Guide?”

“I’m quite sure. I never wanted to be one. I just like being prepared for anything. I also have water, chocolate, an umbrella, my phone, and my inhaler.”

“An umbrella? Is it raining?” He teased her gently.

She rolled her eyes, pulled the flashlight from her pocket, and shouldered the pack again. “And this from the bloke who took a phone to dinner in case we broke down on the way from the bedrooms to the dining room.”

“I’m not going to live that one down, am I?”

“Nope, not for a while. Anyway, when the ceiling leaks, you’ll thank me for the foresight in bringing the umbrella.”

“The ceiling better not leak.” He shone the flashlight upwards. “How far do you reckon this island is from the mainland?”

Freddie stepped into the new tunnel. “A mile or so in a straight line maybe. It could be more, it depends. The tunnels don’t look manmade.”

“Are you an expert on mines?” Jason tripped over the wooden door frame and landed on his hands and knees in an undignified heap.

“The mine is almost certainly manmade, but these tunnels? No way. The walls are too smooth. My guess is the sea carved them out over several years. Besides there are no support beams...”