The Calling of the Grave (35 page)

Read The Calling of the Grave Online

Authors: Simon Beckett

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Crime Fiction, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Calling of the Grave
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    as
she flung herself backwards. The figure was almost on top of her but she lashed
out with a side kick at the same time as she swung the gun up. I heard a thump
as the kick landed but her attacker swung a savage backhanded blow that caught
Cross in the face. There was a meaty, bone-on-bone impact, and the policewoman
pitched to the ground like a broken toy.

    Sophie's
scream freed me from my shock. 'Run!' I yelled, scrambling around the car, and
throwing myself at the figure.

    It
was like hitting a brick wall. An arm swung, batting me against the car. The
breath burst from me but before I could cry out a hand clamped around my
throat. Calloused fingers dug into my neck, pinning me against the bonnet as
stars burst in my vision.

    In
the light from the fallen torch I found myself looking into the Halloween mask
features of Jerome Monk.

    He
stared down at me with eyes that were dead and black. I flailed at him, but the
arm beneath the greasy jacket was as solid as a tree trunk. His hand was jammed
like a vice under my jaw. I could taste the stink of him, foul and feral as an
animal's cage. My head felt about to burst. My sight was going now, the fog
seeming to thicken around me. Through it I saw him look over his shoulder,
heard the clumsy snap of branches as Sophie stumbled away.

    
God,
no!
I tried to shout out but I couldn't breathe. Monk jerked the arm
holding me, slamming me back against the car. The air burst from my lungs as
something rammed into my stomach. Abruptly the pressure was gone from my throat
and I felt myself falling.

    Then
I hit the ground and the fog closed in completely.

    

Chapter 25

    

    I
passed out, though only for a few seconds. I found myself in the mud, eyes
pulsing with blood and my head throbbing as I tried to draw breath. There was a
rushing in my ears.

    Through
it, as though from a long way away, I heard Sophie scream.

    I tried
to stand, but my body wouldn't respond.
Get up! Come on, move!
I
clambered on to my hands and knees, mud and water soaking into my clothes. But
my vision was clearing now, the blood-red mist lifting. I retched as my
diaphragm spasmed. Sucking in ragged breaths, I used the car to drag myself to
my feet.

    I
took a step and clutched at the car again as my legs almost gave way. Cross's
torch had rolled against a front tyre, throwing a flat white light across the
grass. In it I saw the policewoman. She lay sprawled in the grass, in the same
broken posture as she'd fallen. There had been a horrible finality to the sound
Monk's fist had made on her jaw.

    But
there was nothing I could do for her, or for Miller either. Snatching up the
torch, I flung open the car boot. The cabin light was broken, but the dim
yellow glow might act as a guide when the back-up arrived. I paused just long
enough to grab the blanket from inside and throw it over Cross.

    Then
I went after Sophie and Monk.

    I'd
only a vague idea of which way they'd gone. The car had crashed on the edge of
a wood, and the gnarled trees hemmed me in as I broke into a shambling run. The
ground beneath them was a jumble of moss-covered rocks and bog grass which I
skidded and slipped on. I slowed, shining the torch around.

    'SOPHIE!'

    My
shout was soaked up by the fog. There was no answering cry, no sign of a
struggle. The only noise was my own hoarse breathing and the dripping rustle of
wet branches. Monk had planned this, I thought bleakly. Either he'd been
watching the house and known Sophie had a police guard, or he'd anticipated it.
The phone call had been to herd us away from Padbury, towards where he was
waiting. Even the fog had worked in his favour, obscuring the scarecrow or
dummy he'd set up in the road until we were right on top of it.

    It
was still working for him now, making it impossible to see more than a few
yards. I looked desperately for any sign of which way they'd gone, but all
around me was a shadowy warren of crooked trees.

    I'd
lost them.

    I
stood there while the stark fact sank home. It was hopeless. There was no point
in carrying on, not when each step could be taking me further in the wrong
direction. All I could do now was go back to Miller and Cross and wait for help
to arrive.

    Numb
with defeat, I began to retrace my steps over the moss- covered rocks. I wasn't
even sure where the car was, but in the light from the torch I saw the muddy
tracks I'd gouged in the soft moss. I started to follow them before I realized.
Heart thumping, I swept the beam back and forth in a wide arc across the
ground.

    Off
to one side, just visible in the fog, another muddy trail had been ploughed
through the soft ground.

    I'd
no way of knowing if it was that of Monk and Sophie, but I doubted many people
came in here. The moss covered the rocks like seaweed at a low tide as I set
off in the new direction. Whoever had come this way had slipped on it just as I
had, smearing it off to reveal the dark, wet stone underneath. If this was Monk
he was making no attempt to hide their tracks.

    Either
he didn't expect anyone to follow them or he didn't care.

    A
little further on the tree line abruptly ended. I found myself on an overgrown
trail, one that was obviously used by walkers. The ground was churned to black
mud in both directions. I stared at it, panting.
Come on, which way?

    Unless
I'd become completely turned around, the road lay off to the left. If Monk had
stolen a car then that would be where he'd have headed. Yet I hadn't heard an
engine, and in the silence the sound would have carried even in this fog.

    I
hobbled into a run and followed the path deeper into the woods.

    The
torch beam pitched drunkenly as my boots squelched in the sludge. Then, as
though the fog were solidifying, a craggy rock face loomed in front of me. The
light fell on a barred iron gate set over a gaping cave mouth. No, not a cave,
I realized.

    A
mine.

    Lucas
had mentioned an old tin mine a few miles from Padbury, but he'd said it was sealed
off.
Not any more.
The rusty gate hung open, a broken padlock half
buried in the trampled mud in front of it.

    I
took hold of the gate. The iron bars were cold and rough. There was a metallic
groan as I swung it open and shone the torch inside.

    A
tunnel of rock ran down into blackness.

    My
breath swirled in the fog as I stood there.
Now what?
I hurt all over.
I'd chased after Sophie and Monk without giving any thought to what I'd do if I
caught them, but I hadn't expected this. The sight of that dark opening in the
rock touched on a primal fear that made the hairs on my neck stand on end.

    But I
had no choice. The blue display of my phone lit up like a beacon in the
darkness, showing me what I'd already guessed: no signal. And I'd wasted enough
time. Taking out my wallet, I dropped it by the gate so that the police would
know where I'd gone.
You hope.

    Wiping
the clammy sweat from my hands, I gripped the torch and started down the mine.

    The
shaft was barely high enough to stand upright. The air had the cold, dank smell
of an old cellar. Water dripped from the roof timbers and trickled in runnels
across the sloping floor. My footfalls echoed as I scuffed through it. The
shaft began to drop more steeply, a rough-hewn wormhole hacked out by long dead
miners. It fell away in front of me, vanishing beyond the reach of the torch.

    I'd
been walking for about five minutes when the ground began to level out. The
shaft opened up, vaulting to twice its height as the walls drew back on either side.
But directly ahead my light showed a tumbled mound of rock and shale. At some
time in the past the entire roof had come down: jagged timbers protruded from
between slabs of granite like broken bones.

    The
mine was blocked.

    Water
had formed a shallow pool where the rockfall had partially dammed the run-off
trickling down the shaft. I splashed through it, shining the torch around in
the hope of finding a way past. There was nothing. I couldn't understand: I'd
been certain Monk had brought Sophie down here. But I'd seen no tunnels leading
off the main shaft, and the cave-in was impassable.

    Or
was it? I shone the torch over the blocked shaft one more time. The shadows
from the rocks and shattered timbers jerked in the beam, but the fall looked solid.
Then I moved the torch again and my breath caught in my throat.

    One
shadow didn't shift with the rest. It was in the angle where the uppermost
rocks met the roof, a patch of impenetrable darkness. I picked up a stone and
threw it. Instead of a clatter, it vanished silently inside.

    Not a
shadow. A hole.

    It
made sense. Monk wouldn't let himself be boxed in, and with the mine entrance
sealed and the main shaft blocked for decades it was possible no one even knew
this was here. As long as the gate remained padlocked, Monk could have had the
run of the place.

    But
what lay on the other side?

    I
tested the nearest rock. It didn't budge. Neither did any of the others. The torch
beam cast angled shadows as I carefully hoisted myself up. I reached for
another handhold and felt something give beneath my foot.

    There
was a loud
crack.

    I
froze. When nothing happened I shone the torch down. One of the rotten timbers
sticking out from the rocks had snapped.
God.
I took a moment to let my
heart rate slow, then levered myself the rest of the way. Now I could see what
had caused the hole. A slab of granite had fractured from the top of the
tunnel, leaving a gap high up in the angle between roof and wall. All but
invisible from the ground, it was like a toothless mouth, perhaps three feet
wide and two high.

    Cold
as it was, I was sweating as I shone the torch inside. The hole extended for a
few yards before the beam vanished into darkness. It was wide enough to crawl
through, though not to turn round. The only way to get back would be by
shuffling backwards, feet first.

    And
praying I didn't get stuck.

    I
lowered my forehead on to the edge of the hole. The granite was grainy and cold
against my skin.
I can't do this.
I thought about the weight of ancient
rock suspended inches above me. The roof had collapsed once already. Even if I
wasn't crushed I'd no idea what lay on the other side. If I crawled through I
might not be able to get back.
You've done all you can. Let the police come
down here with a proper search team.
A craven part of me whispered that it
was the best thing to do. No one would blame me: I didn't even know for sure
that Monk had brought Sophie this way. And even if he had, what good could I
do? The sensible thing would be to go back for help.

    
And
what'll happen to Sophie then? What's happening to her now, while you're
dawdling here
?

    Without
giving myself time to think, I pushed myself into the hole. The rough granite
grated like sandpaper as I wriggled my way inside, the cold rock striking
through my clothes. There was more space than I thought, but then there'd have
to be for Monk to get through.
If he did. You still don't know for sure.
But I was committed now. My breath steamed in the light from the torch as I
crawled awkwardly along the rock's dark length. It seemed to take an age before
I reached the other end. Panting, I shone the beam into the dark.

    I'd
emerged at the top of a long, low cavern. It sloped away to one side, ending in
a drop-off from where I could hear the gurgle of running water. Whatever this
was, I didn't think it was part of the mine. It was little more than a
horizontal crack in the rock, barely high enough to stand.
Well, you wanted
to see what was here: now you know.

    Getting
out of the hole was difficult. I'd gone through headfirst, so I had to wriggle
around before I could swing my legs free. My boots scrabbled on rock, then I
dropped down to the slanting floor. The low roof meant I had to stoop as I held
the torch in front of me. The cavern's broad expanse sprang to life, deep
shadows stretching away beyond the limits of the beam.

    
'Sophie
?'
I called
. '
SOPHIE
!'

    My
shout rang out, echoing into oblivion. The only response was the chunter of the
underground stream, invisible in the shadows. Aiming the torch into the
darkness at the far side, I started across.

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