Shadows of Deceit (29 page)

With this the attendant opened a small cupboard adjacent to the steam room door and turned a valve to the ‘off’ position.

“I’ll be back later sir.”

Once the attendant had left Harry sprung to his feet opened the cupboard door and turned the valve on again and twisted it as far as it would go to ensure maximum steam pressure was achieved. He then pushed the outer door hard again to make sure it was a tight fit. After eight minutes had passed Harry went out to talk with the attendant who was still busy with a mop and bucket washing the floor.

“Tell me something, is it possible to get a drink sent down here?”

“No sorry sir.”

The attendant was a man in his early sixties, short stocky and red faced. His eyes were bloodshot. Probably from too much whisky every night, Harry thought.

“Well it must be opening time in the bar, I mean, I’d buy you one as well, it’s just that it is so restful down here and another ten minutes would be a real treat for me. What time do you lock the place up?”

“At seven sir.”

“Well that’s another twenty minutes, what about that drink. Make it two doubles why don’t you. Look pass me my coat I’ll give you some notes, go and buy the drinks and the change is all yours. I’m sure you must have done this before at odd times?”

“It’s most irregular sir, but I’ll see what I can do.”

With this he took the money and left Harry alone. The inner lobby was now much warmer than when Harry had left it. The rattling of the pipes was more noticeable and the spinning distribution fans had developed a new higher note that could be heard coming from inside the steam room. Harry checked that the door to the changing room was tightly closed - another two minutes - that should do it. Harry waited, hoping that the attendant didn’t return too soon. A minute to go. God, he hoped this would work! His watch ticked on for another two minutes, the build up of thick, grey steam within the room could be seen through the small aperture window. Harry looked at the tiles again; all were now clear. This was it. He stood back and flung the door open; waiting as volumes of billowing vapour fell into the lobby. When it cleared sufficiently for Harry to see, he scanned all the tiles. All were dice spots, the wall to the left, to the right, all dice spots. Then on the furthest corner away from the steam room door he discovered a different pattern emerging, it was a road plan. He rushed across and stood in front of the tile. He knew he had just this one chance to remember the pattern. The river, must be the Tweed, a bridge over, a church on the right far side of the bridge; a T junction, six properties marked left of the T junction; the fourth one had a cross marked within it. That was the cottage. He stood back and refocused on the mirror. He had to remember everything. This was Innerleithen coming from the direction of Peebles. He stared at it long enough for water rivulets to form on the tiles above and descend like invaders ruining the landscape. As quickly as it had appeared, it began to disintegrate; gone again and perhaps never to be revealed, ever in the future.

‘Now switch the valve off, I must turn it off.’

Harry did this and then ran out to the changing room leaving the inner door wide-open allowing steam to disperse in all directions. He grabbed the wire rack from behind the counter and quickly got changed. The attendant, when he did return, had all the whisky for himself.

In reception Harry looked at the wall map again just to ensure he would remember all the directions. He didn’t want to use a taxi unless it was absolutely necessary. This was his private journey and no one else must know. Once outside the main door Harry looked across at the cars parked nearby. The Army had taught him to start one without a key, but it could be a bit noisy, and what if there wasn’t much petrol? He looked in the other direction and spied a rack containing four bicycles chained together. ‘For use of Guests only’ the sign read.

Well, he was sort of a guest he thought. He ran across to the cars and quickly found one that didn’t have a locking boot. Inside was a set of tyre changing tools that included a ‘jemmy’ stick. Within two minutes he had released a bike, packed his mac in the front basket and was heading out of the hotel gates.

Now the road towards Kings Muir first. Despite being a minor road he was surprised at the frequency of vehicles overtaking or travelling towards him. He had no lights and apart from the intermittent bursts of moonlight through the white scudding clouds it was very dark. When he heard vehicles approaching he dismounted and pushed the bike as near to the hedgerow as possible. However, he continued making progress and a little further on he was in the Tweed valley. Remembering the details of the wall map in reception he recalled that several tracks passed through the Cardrona Forest. Perhaps he could avoid the road for a while and take a short cut through? The forest was now on his right, the river to his left. He came across a locked five-bar gate that protected one of the long straight tracks through the wood. This is it! He carefully lowered the cycle over the gate and clambered over. The moonlight provided just enough illumination to see that the path, a firebreak he thought, stretched ahead of him on level ground and then in the far distance climbed steeply. He mounted the cycle and slowly pedalled along the track whose surface was made up of packed stony minerals. Occasionally wide, deep puddles affected his progress, as he had to get off and push the bike around them. At the far end of the level section Harry dismounted when he realised that the path now climbed steeply to a summit about half a mile away. He had no option except to push the machine up the hill. The clouds above had now merged into a low grey blanket that enveloped the tops of the trees silhouetted on the summit. Harry stopped for a few moments to regain his breath. He realised that he was utterly alone, he listened and was slightly comforted by the sound of an owl hooting some way in the distance. As he stepped forward he snapped a twig with his foot and immediately heard the scurrying sounds of frightened animals nearby. He stopped again to listen, and this time frightened himself by imagining that he was surrounded on all sides by staring eyes that were tracing his every movement. His mind suddenly switched to recalling his terrifying escape to the coast at Dunkirk when the enemy killed two of his close friends in a firefight. He experienced the same horrifying feeling then as he was feeling now, being watched and tracked. He shivered uncontrollably for a few moments before trying again to be positive. He gripped the handlebars tightly, looked up at the summit and walked forward. As he did so he heard the cracking of twigs as animals scattered away in all directions from him. He smiled, he had overcome his fear. At the top of the hill the path divided into five separate spokes disappearing downward through thick black wooded plantations. He decided to proceed down the second track to his left, the moon remained on his right. He thought the cycle ride down would be easier but he hadn’t predicted that the foresters had excavated deep diagonal trenches across the path to divert rainwater into a culvert. The first one about two hundreds yards from the start of his descent threw him off the bike and into some gorse bushes. Harry picked himself up, checked the bike and began riding more slowly this time, scrutinising every yard of the track ahead. At the bottom of the hill the path levelled out and he was able to make good progress along to the exit gate. He stopped there and was surprised to see someone standing outside of a small cottage about a hundred yards away down the road. He blinked his eyes several times trying to get a better view of what was happening. The figure appeared to be staring towards Harry. ‘I’ve not made any noise so why is he looking this way?’ Harry remained still and watched and listened. A full minute went by with no movement. His eyes were now watery from trying to improve his focus. A noise from his left distracted his gaze, a car was approaching. The vehicle rushed by and stopped at the cottage. The two men greeted each other and went inside.

Harry lowered the bike over the gate and cycled on towards Innerleithen without having to dismount for other vehicles. As he rode towards the village he noticed that the opposite bank of the river was now edging closer; the bridge must be near, he thought. Within another half a mile he saw his first glimpse of it. He stopped and decided to abandon the cycle at its southern end and continue on foot. He put his mac on and slowly walked over the bridge. No one was around, the only sound came from a dog barking further down the valley. Dark clouds that had threatened rain now hid the moon from view. In his mind he pictured the map he’d seen at the hotel. The church was on the right and yes there was the T junction. Turn left and count up to the fourth house. He walked across the road and came to the first house, ‘Kirkee’ was written on the gate in large white lettering. The next ‘Aberfoyle’, the third, which was more obscure, was ‘Lomond’. He stopped and turned around to scan the road, no one was following, everything was silent, and no lights were showing anywhere. He walked on to the next property, this was it! He looked for the name but couldn’t read it properly so he felt the raised lettering with his fingers and was astonished to discover it was ‘Iona’ written on the gate. Of course, of course! He looked more closely, now he understood what Andrew had been saying. ‘The cottage I own.’ In fact he was trying to tell him it was ‘Iona’. Harry looked around again before gently pressing on the gate, fearing that it may squeak loudly. It didn’t, so he entered and climbed the five steps up to the property. Curtains wide open, no sign of anyone here, he thought. He decided to go to the back door, concerned that if anyone was about he would be more visible to them in a front elevated position. There was another gate he had to open to gain access to the back. Once there he looked across to the adjacent gardens, still utter silence. Darlath hadn’t arrived yet. The back door appeared old and was held closed by a mortice deadlock and keeper. Harry pulled the handle down and put his shoulder to the door. He then increased the force by pressing inwards and to his surprise easily managed to push the keeper back on its screws thus releasing the catch. Once he was inside he clicked his lighter and found half a candle on a shelf above the kitchen sink. With this flickering light he opened the inner door revealing a passageway to the front. The cupboard under the stairs was on his right. He opened the small door and looked inside. There were some boxes stacked on the left, a carpet sweeper and brushes on the back wall and some gardening gloves and shears placed on top of a stool to the right. The wall behind the stool had a tiny catch fitted to each corner. Unless you knew they were there you wouldn’t have been aware that a concealed space lay behind. Harry moved forward into the cupboard on his knees and rested the candle on the stool whilst he moved each catch to the open position.

“There’s nothing in there.”

The voice came from the passageway.

“What the..”

Harry knocked the candle over and banged his head in his haste to see who was in the house with him,

“Shit!”

“It’s all gone,” the voice said.

“Darlath?”

“Yes it’s me. For a moment I thought you were Andrew. What are you doing here?”

Harry stood up rubbing his head,

“What d’ya mean it’s gone?”

“The money’s gone, someone’s been here before us, and they had a key to the house. Now where’s Andrew?”

“You’d better sit down Darlath, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Come this way, there’s a sitting room.”

Harry followed, still rubbing his head,

“I was dozing in a chair in here waiting for Andrew to arrive. Then I heard a noise which turned out to be you.”

They both sat down facing each other. A faint glimmer of a new dawn had begun to illuminate the sky to the east. Harry took a deep breath,

“Darlath there’s no easy way for me to tell you this, but here goes. I called in to give the rent monies to Andrew. At first I thought that he wasn’t in the flat, but then I discovered him.”

“Discovered him, what do you mean?”

Darlath looked anxious, anticipating what was to come.

“I found him badly injured and tied up. He had been beaten and he’d lost a lot of blood.”

“Oh no, Christ no. Don’t say that!” Darlath said putting his hands up to his forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

Darlaths eyes remained tightly closed as he said,

“Go on Harry, tell me.”

“I said I would call an ambulance but he insisted that I hear him out first. He told me to come here and make sure the money was safe and to warn you. He mentioned that you were coming but didn’t know exactly at what time. I didn’t know the address here and he became too ill, delirious really, to explain it to me. He mentioned some papers that were in his suitcase but I couldn’t find any. There was nothing in his desk either. Whoever beat him up took all the papers away with them.”

“How is he now, where is he?”

“Let me finish. He went on to mention that his father had drawn a map. It was a story he had told me before so I pieced the info together and, well I managed to get here. Someone must have attacked him at his flat and forced him to divulge exactly where the money was.”

“Steve?” Darlath said in a low voice.

“I don’t know. If it was, then you’re lucky perhaps that he’d arrived before you and taken the cash. As I left Andrew I called for an ambulance. That’s all I know.”

“How was he when you left?”

“Not good Darlath, I’m so sorry…”

Darlath stood up and looked out of the window,