Copper Kingdom (44 page)

He turned the corner of the buildings and came upon the banks of coal that usually towered high into the air like miniature mountains. To his dismay, he saw that the stocks were alarmingly low. If he did not see to replenishing them at once, there would not be enough fuel to last through the winter months. Yet he was sure he had sent off the order as he usually did at the end of each month. What could have gone wrong?

He returned quickly to the office and Ben looked up startled as Sterling entered the small room, slamming the door behind him.

‘Ben, check on last month's coal records,' Sterling said quickly. ‘Either the suppliers have let me down or I forgot to send in the order.'

Ben glanced through the books swiftly and efficiently. ‘Ah, here we are, I remember now. Mr Rickie came into the office, told me that you wanted to give the contracts to some of the smaller pits outside town by way of a change. Only trouble is there's no note of any response from them.'

Sterling sat on the edge of the desk. ‘Rickie came here telling you what I wanted done?' he said incredulously. ‘Since when have I confided in him or when has he shown an interest in the business for that matter? You should have checked it out with me, Ben. In future don't listen to anything my brother tells you.'

Anger was hot within him; Rickie must be up to something. Well he could just keep his nose out or he might have it pushed out.

Ben was looking crestfallen, staring down at his books, his mouth drawn into a straight line.

‘I don't suppose there's any real harm done,' Sterling said more calmly. ‘I'll get some supplies over from the Kilvey Deep. The last thing we want now is any hitches,' he added. ‘Without coal we wouldn't be able to supply Coopers with that zinc wire.'

He felt uneasily that he should find out what Rickie thought he was playing at, coming into the office out of the blue and issuing instructions the way he had.

‘I'm going to take the rest of the day off,' Sterling said decisively. At the door he turned. ‘Remember, Ben, don't take any further orders from my brother, is that understood?'

Ben's face was long. ‘Right you are sir, I did think it strange at the time.' He shrugged. ‘But Master Rickie is family . . .' His voice trailed away and Sterling nodded abruptly.

‘I understand, Ben, but it mustn't happen again.'

As he drove the Ascot up the hill, Sterling glanced towards the place where his new house now stood, ready for occupation. He was sick of his room at the Mackworth Arms and yet somehow he did not relish the thought of living alone as much as he once did. But it was time he moved in, for the house needed warm fires to light the rooms or they would become damp.

It did not take him long to reach Plas Rhianfa and it seemed a long time since he'd driven through the huge gates and along the winding drive to the great mansion that dominated the skyline. It gave him great satisfaction to know that the old place would remain in the family, the order for zinc wire would see to that.

He drew the automobile to a halt and climbed down from the driving seat. He stood for a moment drinking in the sight of the house where he had been born. One day his son would own it and he relished the thought.

Sterling walked round to the back of the house, towards the stables. He might as well enter by the rear door, he did not want his arrival to be announced by his mother's delighted greetings, so giving Rickie a chance to get away before they could talk. Foxy whinnied softly from the stable and, smiling, Sterling moved to rub at the animal's ears.

Voices speaking low from somewhere inside the wooden building made him pause, there was something in the half whispers that alerted him. He moved silently round towards the doorway and edged inside.

Through the gloom, he saw three men, one of them his brother Rickie, seated on boxes, heads bent forward.

‘It will finish him,' Rickie was saying in triumph. ‘It's worked out even better than I'd thought for without coal the order for this new zinc product he's been making will go down the drain.'

Sterling could see now that Will Owens was facing Rickie and to his brother's right sat Glanmor Travers, his face eager, his close-set eyes gleaming. The three of them were hatching some nasty little idea to put him out of business, obviously, but what was it?

‘I set the charge like you told me,' Will Owens was saying in a low voice. ‘The whole shoot should blow sky high.' His voice held a bitter satisfaction.

Sterling tensed. Suddenly his mind was crystal clear: the men had mentioned coal and an explosion, and all at once their conversation made sense. They meant to put the Cornish beam engine out of action and so flood the chain of pits from the Kilvey Deep right down into the valley.

He stepped out into the open so suddenly that the three men turned and looked at him as though he was a ghost. It was Owens who spoke.

‘Jesus Gawd, he's heard the lot.'

‘Yes I heard the lot, damn you,' Sterling stared at Rickie angrily, and a fine brother you turned out to be.'

‘Brother?' Rickie's voice was loud and contemptuous. ‘You're no brother of mine!'

Sterling's fist caught Rickie square in the mouth and he staggered back against the wall, blood running from his cut lip.

‘What have you done, you bastard?' Sterling said harshly. ‘Where have you set this charge?'

Rickie spat blood into the straw and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Find out.'

Sterling's anger was growing with each minute and he caught Rickie by the throat. ‘Tell me what I want to know or by God, brother or no, I'll beat it out of you.'

He jerked Rickie to his feet and the two men stared at each other for a long moment.

‘That's just it,' Rickie gasped at last, ‘you are not my brother.'

‘What game are you trying to play now?' Sterling's grip tightened on Rickie's throat.

‘It's true, you are not Arthur Richardson's child.' His voice was rising hysterically. ‘You are a by-blow conceived from a sordid little affair between our mother and James Cardigan.'

From behind him Sterling heard a strangled gasp and turning, he saw Victoria standing in the doorway, her hand to her throat, her face white. By the expression in her eyes, Sterling knew deep down in his gut that what Rickie said was true.

‘Mother,' he said softly, almost pleadingly, but she looked away from him.

‘Good heavens! I could hear the sound of you shouting from the house. Please boys, stop this fighting, I will not have it.'

Sterling saw her mouth move but he did not hear her words, there was a great bursting pain within him and it was as if the foundations of his life were rocking beneath his feet.

He hit Rickie again and again in an unseeing rage. ‘It's not true, it's just filthy lies!'

He heard Victoria cry out behind him. ‘Someone help me! James, I must fetch James.'

Sterling's vision cleared a little. James Cardigan his father, surely it could not be? He was a Richardson, he had been born in wedlock, brought up as beloved eldest son, yet in a moment all the security of his childhood had been wiped out with a few bitter words.

But he was still the man Arthur Richardson had brought him up to be, he reasoned, and it was he alone who had saved the company from extinction. And no one, nothing, could change the man he had become.

He gave a low growl and threw Rickie away from him and the younger man lay amid the straw moaning.

Glanmor Travers seemed suddenly spurred into action for the next minute he was through the door and running for his life. Sterling let him go but he knew he must marshall his thoughts, undo the harm Rickie might have done. It was Will Owens who had planted the charge, he was the one who must be dealt with now.

‘Owens, where is the charge planted and what time is it to go off?' He stared menacingly at the younger man but Owens returned his look, his lip curled in scorn.

‘Do you want to try to beat it out of me, too?' he asked fiercely.

Sterling tried to control the impulse to wipe the smile from Will Owens' face. This situation needed cunning, not strength.

‘I'll give you a hundred pounds if you show me where you set the charge.' His voice rang out loud and clear and Owens' eyes flickered with greed.

Rickie stepped forward quickly. ‘It's too late!' he cried. ‘Don't be a fool Owens, you'll never get there in time. Keep your trap shut if you know what's good for you.'

Sterling pushed Rickie aside. ‘Two hundred,' he said desperately. ‘Just think what you could do with that sort of cash.'

He could see Owens hesitating. What he didn't know was that the man wanted Sterling's death even more than he wanted the money and the only way to get him on the spot at the time of the explosion was to pretend to go along with him.

‘Right, it's a deal,' he said harshly and Sterling smiled in bitter triumph at his brother.

‘You see, Rickie, you haven't won, not yet.'

Rickie seemed to go wild then, he flung himself at Sterling, attempting to punch and hit him, his face contorted with rage.

‘Nothing belongs to you, by rights it's all mine, I'm the true heir to the company, the house, the lot. Why should you get away with it all?'

Sterling shook him off scornfully. ‘Have you ever done a day's work in your life? Your only contribution has been to lord it around the town and enjoy the money which I've earned by the sweat of my brow. Whatever the truth of my birth, everything is mine because I've earned the right, do you understand?'

He strode out of the door and Will Owens followed him to where the Ascot stood at the front of the house.

‘Get in,' Sterling said shortly and after a moment's hesitation, Will obeyed.

Sterling drove as though all the demons in hell were chasing him. The Ascot screeched around a corner as the automobile left the road and bumped onto the rough pathway that led across the hills.

Sterling glanced at Will Owens who was clinging to the sides of the seat, his face pale, his hair blowing back from his brow. He looked scared to death. Serves him right, Sterling thought angrily, he should be horsewhipped for the part he'd played in planning to blow up the Kilvey Deep engine house.

‘Don't you realise what it will mean in terms of human life if the pump should fail?' he asked sharply and Owens remained silent, glancing at him through half-closed eyes. Sterling concentrated on his driving, attempting to force more speed from the small Ascot.

‘You deserve all you get for that beating you arranged for me.' Will Owens had to raise his voice to be heard.

Sterling frowned. ‘I arranged no beating,' he replied tersely. ‘If I wanted to hammer you, I'd do it personally.'

‘But I heard the gang of youths mentioning you by name,' Owens protested, ‘Mr Richardson they said, as clear as you like.'

Sterling smiled grimly. ‘There are two of us,' he shouted, ‘which one do you think would be afraid to meet you face to face?'

At last the Kilvey Deep came into sight. Owens took a watch from his pocket and gave a strangled cry. ‘Stop, we're too late, I don't want to die!' He threw open the door, his face contorted with panic.

He took a great leap from the moving Ascot and fell to the ground, tumbling down the steep hill with sickening force.

‘Damned fool!' Sterling grated the automobile to a halt and ran towards the spot where Owens lay, quite still now, his head against a large boulder.

There was the sound of galloping hooves and then James Cardigan was climbing from his horse. He came towards Sterling and looked at him questioningly.

‘I think he's dead, God help us,' Sterling said. ‘James, we'll talk later but I must find that explosive before it's too late.' He ran towards the engine house, unaware that James was following him.

And then everything seemed to happen at once. The wall of the engine house appeared to lift upward and outward so slowly that Sterling could scarcely believe it. A great deafening rushing sound filled the air and dust, thick and heavy, mingled with a shower of small stones that fell like raindrops to the ground.

Sterling felt James make a grab at him, holding him tightly. Slowly, as if in a nightmare, Sterling saw the wall of the engine house collapsing in on itself. Huge segments were falling around him. James threw his body protectively over him and then there was a great choking blackness and Sterling knew no more.

In the streets of Sweyn's Eye chaos reigned as warning sirens from the coal pits echoed through the hills and down in the valleys. Shopkeepers closed shutters and, still wearing aprons, hurried towards the coalfield, knowing that some disaster had come upon the town.

In the office of the Canal Street Laundry, Mali lifted her head from her books and the child moved within her womb as though sensing her fear. Mr Waddington rose to his feet and patted Mali on the shoulder.

‘There, be calm now, no use upsetting yourself,' he said, ‘I'll go and see if I can find out what's happening.'

Mali managed to smile up at him. He had been unbelievably kind to her in the last few days. He had attended her father's simple funeral, standing holding her arm, giving his support as Davie was lowered into the grave beside his wife Jinny, and Mali did not know what she would have done without him. Mr Waddington had been even more considerate since she had told him of Rosa's treachery in running off with the money.

‘That doesn't matter,' he'd said. ‘All I care about is that you are here to help me. You are like the daughter I had and lost and if I may, I shall try my best to be, if not a father, then a guardian to you and to the child when it arrives.'