Ash (47 page)

‘
Mr Ash!
’

The hollow sound that echoed off the walls of the long tunnel made him start and spin round.

It came again: ‘
Ashashashas . . .
’

Of course. He’d been gone some time and the ranger was becoming anxious.

Ash called back, sure that the sound of his voice would easily travel through the twists and turns of the original smugglers’ harsh route to riches.

‘
Can you hear me, Mr Ash?
’ the ranger’s echoing voice demanded, now with less urgency.

‘
Yeah, I can hear you!
’ Ash yelled back.

‘
I was worried about you
.’

‘
No need. I’m on my way down right now.
’

The investigator picked up his shoulder bag and looped it across his chest. With one last look back at the hideously thick, gargantuan barricade of webs draped with dirt and dust, Ash widened the beam of his Maglite and started making his way back to McKewin. He had to crawl through the shallower parts of the tunnel, where the rock looked to Ash as if it were burdened by its own weight. It surely couldn’t have been like this at the time of the ‘Running Trade’, for it would have made movement of goods nigh-on impossible. As he squirmed through the claustrophobic section that led back to the main cave, the smell didn’t seem as bad as before and he realized he’d become acclimatized to it.

At last, and with relief, he could see daylight up ahead. One last bit on hands and knees and then he was back at the cave’s entrance. The park ranger ambled up to him, his own torch aimed at the ground to watch his footing.

‘Glad you’re back, Mr Ash,’ he said amiably. ‘Thought for a moment I’d have to come and find you.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ Ash responded, somewhat breathlessly. It was good to get sharp sea air into his lungs once more, even if the chill had a bite to it and was slightly tainted by the dank atmosphere of the cave.

‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ McKewin asked.

‘Not really. I could only get so far.’

‘Aye, well, the tunnel’s been there an awful long time. I take it you won’t be going there again.’

‘Guess not,’ he said.

‘Well, nothing wasted. At least you had a chance to see what nobody else has for a hundred years.’

Ash started to walk on, to get out in the fresher and more invigorating sea air, cold though it might be, but the ranger didn’t move.

‘I see you brought a little friend back with you,’ he said wryly.

‘Sorry?’

McKewin pointed to the investigator’s right shoulder with his torch.

Ash turned his head to look, and almost yelped when he saw the huge, hairy spider with its eight furry legs.

With a snappy flick of his gloved hand, McKewin swiped the spider off Ash’s suddenly rigid body. The ranger smiled benignly as together they watched the furred, brittle creature scuttle away and lose itself in the rock-strewn floor. Ash wished he’d had the chance to crush the life from it with his heavy-duty boot.

The hike back up the rickety wooden stairway was arduous, but far easier than ascending the tunnel had been. When they reached the top, Ash leaned both hands on bent knees and tried to catch his breath. Annoyingly, Jonas McKewin still looked fresh, ready for more.

‘You okay, Mr Ash?’ the ranger enquired solicitously. Ash looked up at him suspiciously, but there was no hint of mockery in his tone. The park ranger was aware of how tough the climb could be on anybody not used to such exertions, and the investigator had managed
two
ascents that morning, the first tougher than this last one. Ash straightened and drew in a long, beautifully sweet breath of fresh sea air before giving an answer.

‘Yes, thanks,’ he replied. ‘I’m fine now.’

‘Was it any help to you, the cave?’ McKewin looked genuinely interested.

‘Not really,’ Ash replied. ‘I was hoping for more . . . in fact, I could
feel
there was more inside the tunnel the higher I went, so it was a shame the way was blocked. I’d have liked to have climbed a bit higher.’

Ash handed back the yellow hard hat, which he’d taken off with relief as soon as they were outside the cavern.

‘Well, I’m sorry about that,’ said McKewin as he took the headgear from him.

‘Not your fault,’ Ash was saying needlessly. ‘It was just an idea I had. It probably would have led to nothing.’
Except a giant dirt-draped tangle of spiders’ webs
, he thought to himself.

The ranger tucked Ash’s hard hat under his arm.

‘Thanks for your patience,’ Ash commented.

‘That’s okay, Mr Ash. It was only when you’d disappeared so long in there I got a mite worried.’

‘Yeah, I’m sorry, I—’

‘Mr McKewin!’

They both turned to see another ranger approaching them, a man older than McKewin, red-faced and rather portly.

‘Marty . . . ?’ McKewin wore a puzzled frown as the khaki-clad figure reached them, somewhat winded.

‘Y’re to come right away, Mr McKewin!’ he urged in a broad Scots accent. Marty took in Ash, the ‘ghost-buster’ with a curious frown, then turned back to McKewin.

‘There’s trouble in the woods.’ He looked again at the investigator, as if he might in some way be responsible. ‘It’s a slaughter, man, a bloodbath. I’ve ne’er seen anything like it. I was on m’usual mornin’ rounds checkin’ the boundary fence an’ such, when I came upon it. It was sheer bliddy butchery. The deer . . . och, those poor bliddy deer. Some had tried to get through the fence and were fried for their trouble. They must’ve went at it again an’ again, hurtin’ ’emselves more an’ more till it or the cats killed ’em. Others were just mauled to pieces. Squirrels, foxes, all kinds of smaller animals torn apart, their bellies open an’ still steaming with heat. I ran – I didn’t waste any time lookin’ for details – I just bliddy ran. When I couldnae find you in the office, I went straight to the castle. Sir Victor’s organizing a task force to go in, an’ y’re needed promptly.’

‘So that was the cause of the ruckus last night,’ Ash put in.

‘Y’heard it goin’ on?’ said Marty incredulously.

‘I heard something, but it was very late.’

‘Aye, and we’re early-to-bed, early-to-rise folk, so we couldn’t have known.’

‘Then you missed quite a lot that was going on in Comraich last night,’ Ash told him.

‘No one alerted
us
,’ Marty said quickly, as if to absolve the rangers of any blame.

‘The important thing now,’ McKewin said gravely, ‘is to sort things out quickly and quietly.’

‘I’m nae sure aboot quietly,’ said Marty, chastened by his chief’s tone. ‘Sir Victor’s even organizing the guards now as well as the rangers. They’re armed, but waiting for you tae guide them.’

‘Right, let’s be off.’

With a brief nod towards Ash, he took off quickly towards Comraich, Marty struggling to keep up with him.

Ash waited for a moment or two, getting the last of his breath back, looking out to sea as he did so. Dark clouds were gathering ominously over the horizon.

As he crossed the wide concourse outside Comraich Castle, Ash could see no activity. He had a mind to chase after Jonas McKewin, but realized he’d probably only get in the way.

The air was dry so far, but if that sky-filling dark mass of clouds gathering over the horizon was headed this way, a storm would be arriving before long. He passed the steps that led up to the castle’s entrance, intending to inspect the estate’s formal gardens. Delphine had told him that guests would be confined to their rooms until the chaos of the previous evening has been thoroughly investigated. Obviously, Haelstrom hadn’t wished to endanger his high-paying residents unnecessarily.

Just beyond the steps to the entrance he came upon two parked cars: the sleek, black Mercedes-Benz that had brought him to Comraich and an equally sleek black Jaguar saloon. Gordon Dalzell was busy wiping down the Merc with a chamois leather while another, taller man with receding black hair was hosing down the Jaguar. Both men were wearing identical overalls, and both looked up from their activity as Ash approached.

‘
Dè an doigh
, Mr Ash?’ Dalzell called out cheerfully, his grin revealing a fine display of white teeth. ‘Are y’settling in okay?’

Ash approached. ‘You expecting more pick-ups today, Gordon?’

‘Oh, aye. Busy day today. S’why the cars have to look spotless for our VIP visitors. I heard there’s been a spot of bother, even more so than before?’

‘You were here?’

‘Ach, we helped clean up the mess those weird flies made last night. The strange thing is, there were no signs of them this morning. I mean, the cleaners do a pretty damn good job, but y’ken, there were bound to be one or two the cleaners missed, but they couldnae find one today, not even in the vacuum machines themselves.’

He lowered his voice when Ash came even closer. ‘This is rumour, mind, but I was told that when quick autopsies were carried out on those people who’d died from the attack, not one fly or maggot was found inside ’em. Y’know, some guests were supposed to have choked on ’em when the flies blocked their windpipes and even got into their lungs. But nae, all corpses were empty of the bliddy things.
Now what d’you make of that?
’ Dalzell’s words were louder with the question.

Ash shook his head non-committally. He noticed the chauffeur’s companion had turned off the nozzle of the hosepipe which trailed around the side of the ancient building and was moving closer to the conversation. The man, was medium-tall with sad hazel eyes set in a comfortable, lived-in face with a ready smile. His dark hair was thinning. He looked interesting, as if he had a lot of stories to tell, and the investigator gave him a brief nod hello.

‘Y’havenae met my other half yet,’ said Dalzell, his cheerful grin lighting up his shrewd blue-grey eyes. ‘Graham Hamilton – he used t’race cars, y’ken?’

‘Oh, I see . . .’ Ash had been taken by surprise.

Dalzell laughed at the investigator’s baffled expression. ‘We’re not all Screaming Marys, y’ken. We don’t even call it a marriage: it’s a civil partnership, and that’s how we care to think about it.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean . . .’ Ash struggled to speak through his embarrassment, ashamed at his naivety.

Hamilton spoke up and he was smiling too. ‘We heard you had problems yesterday evening.’ His accent was faint, a slight lilt, almost like McKewin’s.

‘If you mean an unscheduled journey in a lift shaft with a very abrupt end, then yes. Could’ve been worse, though.’

‘Gordon told me you were a nice fellow. I’m glad you’re all right.’

Dalzell was wringing out his chamois leather into a plastic bucket at his feet. ‘Y’need to watch yourself in this place, Mr Ash.’

The investigator wasn’t sure whether to take that as a threat or a warning. Dalzell was difficult to read.

‘David!’

All three men turned to look back at the castle steps down which Delphine Wyatt was running. ‘You have to help me, David,’ she said in a rush as she reached Ash.

‘What is it?’

‘Petra and Peter. They’ve gone missing.’

‘I thought everyone was confined to their rooms till the fuss was over,’ said Hamilton, giving her a concerned look.

‘Yes, that was the idea,’ Delphine replied. ‘But you don’t know Petra. She’s a force of her own.’

‘Wait a bit,’ Dalzell jumped in, anxiety also in his tone. ‘I saw a young couple headed into the woods earlier. I caught sight of the girl – pretty thing, if she knew how to dress properly. She was with that young guy. Looked alike, the pair of ’em.’

Hamilton cut in then. ‘Aren’t the woods supposed to be out of bounds for the moment?’

‘Yes,’ said Delphine, ‘until some kind of task force – wardens and guards – has been sent in.’

‘Ach, I heard a whole bloody army’s going in,’ said Dalzell. ‘I heard there was some kind of massacre of the park animals. I don’t know—’

‘Wildcats.’

They all turned Ash’s way.

‘The wildcats you mentioned yesterday,’ said Ash, looking directly at Dalzell. ‘They’ve obviously gone blood mad.’

‘Aye, it’s in their genes all reet. Should’ve all been exterminated long ago. Nasty predators, they are.’

Delphine looked up imploringly at Ash. ‘David, I’ve got to go and find the twins. If they get lost in there then God knows what will happen to them.’

‘Right,’ said Ash, ‘what are we waiting for?’

Delphine gave him a wan smile.

‘I think you should stay here and let the wardens and guards take care of things, Dr Wyatt,’ said Hamilton doubtfully.

‘You know I won’t do that,’ the psychologist told him firmly.

He shrugged and held up his hands as if in surrender.

Dalzell dropped his leather into the bucket. ‘I’ll go and see what’s going on. They should soon be ready to send in a proper force t’deal with those monster cats.’

‘I think it’s already on its way,’ said Ash. ‘Jonas McKewin has just been summoned to lead it.’

‘How long since you saw the twins, Gordon?’ Delphine asked urgently.

‘ ’Bout ten, twenty minutes,’ Dalzell replied, screwing up his face as if it would help him remember.’

‘Twenty minutes? Anything might have happened in that time. Oh God!’

Ash grabbed her arm before she could rush off. ‘No need to panic, Delphine. The cats aren’t going to attack again so soon after last night’s carnage.’

‘Don’t be too sure,’ warned Hamilton. ‘There’s something mad about the wildcat as a species. They’re like foxes – never satisfied until they’ve killed all the chickens in the coop.’

While Dalzell went scooting up the steps and into the castle, Ash and Delphine hurriedly crossed the gardens to the edge of the forest, where they paused for a few moments, both of them hesitant in front of the shady trees.

Delphine cupped her hands to her mouth. ‘
Petra! Peter! Can you hear me?
’

They listened, and for the first time that morning, Ash became aware that the woods were entirely silent, as if all the birds and animals within were either hiding or had deserted the woods for their own safety. The stillness was eerie.

Delphine turned to him again, her anxious face looking up at him for reassurance, but Ash could offer no such comfort.