Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3) (32 page)

Crawford staggered back, coughing and wheezing, holding up his hands to shield his face.

I couldn’t watch any more. I turned and ran back to the door, my arms pumping, my feet pounding against the concrete. The flashlight’s beam danced wildly on the wall and I knew that Crawford was right behind me, but I didn’t care. I didn’t look back, didn’t slow down. The orange glow did little to light my way, but my eyes were used to the gloom and I found the door quickly, throwing it open, barging through. Crawford followed me outside and slammed the door shut behind him.

I stood still and breathed deep, gulping down the sweet night air. It was cool and fresh, and I felt better immediately, but Crawford wasn’t doing so well. He bent over, his hands on his knees, and spat onto the ground. He coughed over and over again, only pausing to gasp for air, his breath rattling in his chest.

This was my chance. I squared my shoulders and stood over him. I could beat him now, incapacitate him. Take the keys and leave him for the authorities to find. I curled my fingers into fists.

“Don’t even think about it,” Crawford wheezed. He looked up at me. “I’ve made arrangements. If anything happens to me, your father will live out his days in a prison cell.”

I hesitated.
He’s lying
, I thought.
He’ll say anything to save his skin
. I ground my teeth together. I was almost certain that Crawford was completely on his own; all I had to do was put him out of action, and Cally and my dad would be safe. But what if I was wrong? What if he was telling the truth? Was I prepared to take that risk?

Crawford stood up. “Think about your father,” he said. “How long do you think he’d survive in prison?”

I growled in frustration. I couldn’t take a chance on my dad’s life, so I couldn’t do a thing against Crawford. He’d caught me hook, line and sinker. And he knew it.

“I promise you,” Crawford said. “When we’ve finished here, your father will be safe. Callisto will be safe.”

“And what about me?”

Crawford looked me in the eye. “Do as you’re told, and you’ll be safe too.”

I stared at him, meeting his gaze. I couldn’t trust him, not even for one second. But this wasn’t over. And I wasn’t ready to give in. Not while there was still a chance I could save Cally and my dad. “All right. So what now?”

“We wait, “Crawford said.

So we stood outside the building and listened to the terrible screech of wounded metal. And even with the door closed, the dreadful droning of the stone seemed to penetrate my skull.

I stared at the metal door, searching its seams for tendrils of escaping smoke, dreading the moment when its steel panels would buckle and its hinges give way. Surely we’d be caught in the stone’s dreadful grip; it would not allow us to escape unharmed.

I ground my teeth together and swallowed down a roar of rage, forced myself to stand my ground. But just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, a sudden explosion of sound erupted within the building, sending tremors through the ground.

I flinched, raising my arms to protect my face, but Crawford stood still. “What the hell was that?” I murmured.

“We’ll see in a second,” Crawford said. “Give it a moment to let the smoke clear.”

“No way. We can’t go in there.”

But Crawford ignored my protest. “Listen. It’s quieter now.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “My ears are still ringing.” But he was right. The buzzing noise was still there, but it had faded to a background hum.

“Come on,” Crawford said. “We’re going inside.”

But I could only stand and stare in horror as Crawford stepped forward and took hold of the door handle. Then, he took a lungful of fresh air and opened the door.

Chapter 37

1919

AT HIS DESK IN THE OFFICE
at Grigson’s, Trevor sat back in his chair and straightened a sheaf of papers by tapping its edges on the desk as loudly as he could. He watched Duncan and Joe from the corner of his eye, and he smiled when they both looked up with a start. Duncan looked distinctly irritated, but Joe smiled and nodded toward the bundle of papers. “Is that the Matthews job all done then?”

Trevor gave Joe a toothy grin. “It certainly is. Final draft. All ready for the old man to sign off.”

Joe tittered like a school boy. “
The old man!
Don’t let him hear you saying that.”

Trevor shrugged. “So what if he does?”

Joe gaped in mock horror, but Duncan tutted under his breath and shook his head.

The poor saps
, Trevor thought. Joe was a good chap, but he didn’t have what it took to make a success of himself. And as for Duncan, he was very thorough in his work, but too serious, too straight-laced; he had no flair.

Trevor treated his colleagues to a warm smile. He would love to tell them what a master stroke he’d pulled off. He could picture the stunned amazement on their faces, the stupid way their mouths would hang open as they gasped at his sheer audacity. But he would never be able to enjoy that moment. The secret of his success must remain hidden from the likes of Duncan and Joe.

Joe suddenly snapped back to his work; a sure sign that, behind Trevor’s back, Mr. Grigson had appeared at the door. Trevor sat up straight, but he wasn’t going to pretend to be busy, he wasn’t going to be bullied. He heard Grigson clear his throat, but Trevor did not look around.

“Mr. Marley, you seem to have some free time,” Grigson said. “I trust that we aren’t under-using your talents.”

Joe sniggered appreciatively and Duncan gave Trevor a stern frown, but Trevor smiled and gave them both a cheeky wink before he turned around slowly. “Perfect timing, Mr. Grigson. I have just, this very second, prepared the final draft of the Matthews report for your approval.”

Grigson raised his eyebrows. “The
final
draft?”

“Indeed, sir,” Trevor said. “It’s all ready to go.”

Grigson gave Trevor a small smile. “Very good. Well done, Mr. Marley.” He looked at Joe and Duncan and added, “I only wish everyone was so prompt.”

Trevor half turned to watch his colleagues. Joe was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and he kept glancing down at the pile of unfinished work on his desk. But Duncan’s face was a picture: his mouth a tight line, his cheeks red, and his eyes flashing with restrained anger. Trevor almost laughed out loud, but he controlled himself and turned back to Grigson, his face straight.

“Right then, Mr. Marley,” Grigson said, extending his arm toward his office door. “Step in here, if you would, and let us confer.”

“Certainly, sir. Right away.” Trevor stood slowly, savouring the moment.

“I trust that we are going to make Mr. Matthews a happy man,” Grigson said.

Trevor held up his neat bundle of papers. “Oh yes, sir. I think I can guarantee it.”

***

When Mr. Grigson took a telephone call in the middle of their meeting, Trevor knew he should stand up quietly and leave the room, but he couldn’t move; Grigson’s words had rooted Trevor to his seat.

“Grigson speaking. Ah, Mr. Matthews, how delightful to hear from you.”

Trevor sat and stared at his employer, studying his expression. This was a critical moment in his plan, and he didn’t want to miss a single moment of it. But what was this? Without even looking at him, Grigson was dismissing Trevor with an imperious wave of his hand. Trevor felt his jaw go slack. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how his moment of glory was supposed to be. But Grigson flashed him a warning look and nodded toward the door. Trevor had no choice but to stand up and leave.

Trevor walked away as slowly as he could. Perhaps at any moment, Grigson would call him back to clarify some detail or other, and he would have his chance to be heard. But as Trevor opened the door, Grigson’s next words were a final insult: “Indeed, Mr. Matthews, I have the report in front of me as we speak. I’ve just finished preparing it myself.”

Trevor froze with his hand on the door handle. So this was how it was going to be. After all his hard work, Grigson was going to take the credit.

Trevor closed his eyes for a moment and fought the urge to turn around, march up to Grigson and wrench the telephone from the old man’s bony hand. He’d a good mind to tell the mighty Mr. Matthews a few unpleasant truths about his precious quarry site, such as the little problem of the human remains buried on the ledge.

But this wasn’t the time. It would be far better for Trevor to keep his ammunition dry and choose the right moment to do battle. So Trevor made his face a mask of stony indifference and stalked out of Grigson’s office with his head held high. And he made sure he left the old man’s door slightly ajar.

Back at his desk, Trevor knew that if he leaned back in his chair, he’d be able to hear every word that Grigson said. Usually he did this surreptitiously, but this time he didn’t care whether his colleagues saw him eavesdropping or not.

“Yes, it was a lucky find by this chap,” Grigson was saying. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” he went on. “The spring just drains into a ditch at the moment, you’d never notice it was there, but it’s mainly underground you see.”

There was a long pause, and Trevor imagined Matthews growing red in the face and demanding to know why a bit of water was suddenly such a problem when they were going to blast the whole place to pieces anyway.

“Quite, quite,” Grigson said, “But the water course has seriously eroded the underlying rock over many, many years. So while the two sides are fine, that far bank is not workable. Any excavation would be unpredictable and could have serious consequences.”

Another pause, and Trevor would’ve given anything to hear what Matthews was saying.

“At the very least,” Grigson said, “there would be severe subsidence in the land above the bank, which includes the recreation ground, and, as I’m sure you’re aware, the main road.”

Grigson let out a dry laugh, clearly humouring his client. “Indeed, Mr. Matthews. But I’m afraid the town council may take a different view. And then there’s public opinion to consider.”

A shorter pause this time. Perhaps the message was finally starting to sink in that Matthews wasn’t going to have everything his own way for once.

“I quite agree,” Grigson said. “But did I hear at the Conservative Club that you’re putting yourself forward as a candidate to be our next Member of Parliament?”

Trevor raised his eyebrows at that.
Well played, Grigson
, he thought.
You’re a sly old fox after all
.

“I’m sure you will, “ Grigson said. “What was that? The worst that could happen? Let me see…”

Trevor could hear the flicking of pages.

“Yes. Here it is. Our man, Mr. Marley says, and I quote,
the removal of the limestone deposits from the said part of the site would undoubtedly cause serious subsidence and/or a major landslip in the adjacent higher ground
.”

Trevor pricked up his ears at the mention of his name. Perhaps he was finally going to get some praise. But the moment of hope was all too brief. It was clear that the only credit he would get, was to be known as the man who’d pointed out the worst possible scenario. To Mr. Matthews, Trevor would forever be remembered as the man who’d thrown a spanner into the works; he was a fly in the ointment, a harbinger of doom. He’d rather he hadn’t been mentioned at all.

If only he could walk into Grigson’s office and explain. He’d saved the project from turning into a complete fiasco. Without his intervention, the proposed quarry would’ve been delayed by months or even years.

Trevor shook his head. He’d miscalculated. He’d underestimated Grigson and the whole plan had backfired. He needed to regroup and rethink. There had to be some way he could turn this situation around. But Grigson was talking again:

“While we’re on the subject, I did wonder about this workman who found the spring. I’m assured that he’s the only person who went to that part of the site. He knows about the potential problem of the subsidence. Might it be an idea to put the man on the payroll when you open for business?”

Trevor sighed. Poor old Brian was going to come out of this all right. It looked like everyone was going to benefit apart from Trevor.

“I appreciate that, Mr. Matthews,” Grigson said. “But perhaps it may be as well to keep him on our side—keep him quiet.”

It sounded like Matthews didn’t even have to think about this suggestion.

“Yes, my thoughts exactly, “ Grigson said. “I’ll have the man’s details sent to your secretary today.”

Grigson chuckled. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Matthews. It was a pleasure to be of service.”

Trevor grimaced. He couldn’t bear to listen to another word. He stood quickly, toppling his chair. Joe said something, but Trevor didn’t take it in, didn’t even look at him. He left his chair where it lay and swept out of the office without a backward glance, slamming the door shut behind him.

He thought he heard Duncan calling his name, but he kept walking, his head down. He was two streets away before he even noticed the cold air stinging his cheeks, prickling his fingers. He dug his hands into his trouser pockets and hunched his shoulders, but it didn’t help much against the chill breeze.
I should’ve grabbed my overcoat
, he thought. But it was too late to do anything about that now. He couldn’t go creeping back to Grigson’s with his tail between his legs.