Wreckers Island (romantic suspense) (6 page)

BOOK: Wreckers Island (romantic suspense)
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‘I suppose it’s to be expected,’ said John.
‘After all, these diagrams are intended to show the features of the island and
the structure that was to be built upon it, namely the lighthouse. The
shoreline areas are marked simply to give the context and a sense of scale.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Dan, ‘and if you look, there is
considerable detail given for the island, including the little jetty and the outbuilding,
even the perimeter wall is marked.’

‘That doesn’t help us does it,’ said Louise,
impatiently. She could be impetuous at times, and she found this painstaking
studying of old diagrams tiresome. ‘However detailed they are, they are no use,
because what we want is some sort of map that indicates tunnels radiating from
the cove, and in particular going under the seabed. So a map of the island,
however detailed, isn’t relevant is it?’

‘Probably not,’ murmured Dan, staring in
fascination at the diagrams. His soft grey eyes flicked from one to the other.
‘Now that
is
interesting,’ he announced.

‘What is?’ asked Louise, ‘I thought you
agreed with me that the maps weren’t relevant? We need to find the tunnel that
the Spanish captain walked up from the shore and we don’t have any idea where
that might be. We’ll have to leave it until the weather clears up and when it
does, take the boat over and have a sniff around.’

Dan didn’t respond, he was fixated on the
diagrams, constantly looking first at one then the other.

‘Come on, stop being mysterious,’ snapped
Louise in frustration, ‘if you’ve seen something interesting, tell us.’

‘I don’t know whether it is interesting or
not, but it might be,’ replied Dan. ‘If you look at that drawing of the island
with the lighthouse and outbuilding sketched on, do you see that circle marked on
the floor of the outbuilding? At first I thought it indicated the outside
toilet or something.’

‘Yes, I would think you’re right,’ said
John, jumping in. ‘That would be my guess.’

‘Ok, how do you explain this?’ pointed out
Dan. ‘If you look at the original diagram showing the island before anything was
built, that small circle still appears in exactly the same place. If you look
carefully, there are two small lines of dashes running away from it. What do
you think that might mean?’

Emma clutched his arm. Dan could at times be
obscure and academic and his points opaque – but she always got onto his
wavelength far quicker than the others. She saw what he meant. ‘What’s the
weather doing now,’ she said, ‘let’s get outside and take a look!’

At that moment a sheet of sea water smacked
into the windows, swept high into the air by the venomous gale. When the glass
dried, it looked like the rain might have stopped.

‘Take a look at what?’ said Louise and John
simultaneously.

‘Can’t you see what Dan is getting at?’ said
Emma. ‘That circle indicates something in the ground located underneath the
outbuilding. It appears on both plans so clearly whatever it is was already
there before the outbuilding was constructed. The question is, what is it and why
should there be little dashes leading away from it, as if indicating, perhaps,
a tunnel of some kind?’

‘It might be drainage for the toilet and
washing facilities,’ countered John.

‘Yes that’s what I would think if it didn’t
also appear on the original plan before anything had been constructed,’ said
Dan. ‘Whatever it is pre-dates the lighthouse, that is why it appears on the
first diagram. The fact that it is also marked on the subsequent diagram
suggests that it still exists in some form. What I’m saying is that this might
be evidence of an old tunnel leading from this island. Perhaps a tunnel once
used by wreckers, perhaps even the reason why Wreckers Island got its name.’

‘Right,’ said Louise, ‘this is interesting,
but it doesn’t get us any further towards establishing the whereabouts of the
tunnel used by the Spanish captain does it? He walked down a tunnel from the
shore, leading beneath the seabed.’

‘Yes but don’t you see,’ said Dan, ‘it’s a
long shot perhaps, but this might be the same tunnel – the island might have
been the place it led to. Why not, when you think about it? What a great
strategic advantage that would give to any smugglers and wreckers in the know,
to be able to use a little island in the bay, linked to the shore by a secret
passageway, with underground caves along the way!’

‘Oh and think,’ chimed in John, ‘there must
be a small chance that if a tunnel leads to this island, while it may have been
sealed up from the shore, possibly no-one has thought to seal it from this end.’

‘The treasure, therefore, might still be
there, is that what you’re saying?’ asked Louise, finally getting the picture.

‘Yes,’ said Dan quietly, ‘it might be, if –
and it’s a big if – there really is a tunnel to the island and it happens to be
the one the Spanish captain used. Especially if, as John says, the shoreline entrance
was blocked a long while ago preventing access to it that way. Meanwhile, the
other end, leading beneath the outbuilding on this island, became inaccessible
or at least, forgotten about. We know that the lighthouse was built in 1877, so
that’s getting on for 150 years ago.

‘The key point is, would our entrance to the
tunnel – assuming it
is
a tunnel – actually have been blocked up?
Possibly not, since the outbuilding itself would have been lockable and under
the watchful eye of the resident lighthouse keeper. Anyway, we have an exciting
little project to tackle this afternoon, right here on this island!’

‘Before we do,’ protested Emma, ‘let’s get
some lunch. I’m getting hungry.’

The others agreed. There was no rush. With
the weather so bad, it was unlikely they would be going anywhere that day.

The four went over to the lamp room window
and stared out, flinching as more spray lashed the glass. The towering waves
showed no sign of abating. They went down to the kitchen. Louise and Emma got
out the crusty bread they had bought the previous day and started to make some
sandwiches. ‘Does anyone fancy a beer?’ asked Louise.

‘No,’ cautioned Dan. ‘Let’s keep a clear
head this afternoon – we can celebrate with a beer afterwards if we get
anywhere.’

The others agreed. At times, Dan’s common
sense and cool head were called for. Not that his head was entirely cool. Under
his calm, passive exterior, his mind buzzed with the revelations uncovered in
the diary and the mystery thrown up. At the same time, he was puzzling over the
mixed messages received from Emma.

Dan desired her so much, both physically and
emotionally. Yes of course, he wanted her underneath his duvet and to be able
to explore every inch of her. More than anything he yearned to hold her close
and kiss her, to place his lips on hers – the woman he loved.

‘Dan is miles away, dreaming of Spanish
galleons and buried treasure,’ said Louise with a grin, when her efforts to
hand him a mug of tea failed.

‘Sorry,’ he said, reaching for the tea. As
he pressed his lips against the rim of the mug, he imagined them pressed
against Emma’s. Above all, that was the treasure he truly wanted, far more so
than any hoard of gold coins – although, that would be nice too, of course!

 

Chapter VI

 

By the time lunch had been cleared away, Dan had pushed romantic
musings aside. He focussed instead on the task of poking around the outbuilding
to see if, just possibly, something of interest waited to be uncovered.

Louise, despite her initial scepticism, was
now fizzing with enthusiasm. ‘Isn’t it sooo thrilling! The prospect of a hidden
tunnel leading to our little island. It’s like something out of a book.’

‘Very true, and that’s why it may end up in
one big disappointment,’ warned Dan. ‘If this were a book, no doubt we would
find a tunnel, but as it’s real life, the chances are we will find some sort of
drainage shaft and that will be it.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Louise, refusing
to be deflated. ‘It’s still great fun! I have to admit, in all the times I’ve
been to this island, the thought that there might be a long-forgotten passage beneath
it never occurred to me. My parents have certainly never mentioned it.’

‘That’s a good sign it doesn’t exist, but on
an afternoon like this, it’s got to be worth having a look,’ said Dan, wrapping
the diagrams carefully, not wanting them to be damaged by the wind, rain and
sea spray.

They put on thick jumpers since it would be cold
and draughty in the outbuilding and trooped to the main door of the lighthouse.
John had to use all his strength to wrench it open as water had swollen it and jammed
it shut. When he finally succeeded, the students were greeted by a wall of wind
determined to push them back inside.

‘My God, it’s savage,’ cried Louise,
exultantly, loving the power of the gale and the spray in her face. ‘Isn’t this
the most amazing sight!’

The others paused, in awe of the storm
raging around their island. It was one thing to watch it from the safety of the
lamp room, but to actually be outside in it was an exhilarating, almost
frightening experience.

‘Look at those monster waves crashing over
those rocks,’ shouted Louise, struggling to be heard over the din.

‘Be careful,’ shouted John, his hands dug
deep into his waterproof, don’t get too close to the water’s edge, if we get
swept out to sea, we’ll be done for. Come on, let’s get into the outbuilding
and take a good look around.’

They were glad when Louise managed to turn
the key in the stubborn lock and let themselves into what was essentially a
large shed, closing the door firmly behind them. Inside, it was basic and
spartan – a sizeable open area which probably once served as a mini workshop,
storeroom and a primitive outside toilet.

‘It’s quite roomy, almost like the garage of
a house,’ said Emma.

‘Yes but when it was built, remember, a
lighthouse keeper would have lived on the island all year round. He needed a
reasonable amount of space to keep things in and to do some basic carpentry and
other odd-jobs,’ pointed out John.

Dan carefully unfolded the diagrams and
spread them out over a trunk full of old lobster pots.

‘Ok, let’s think,’ he said. ‘We need to get
our bearings and make sure we’re holding the plans the right way round. There’s
a compass point on it showing North. If the sun sets over the mainland as we
look at it, west is that way and north must be over there,’ he said, pointing. ‘That
puts the storeroom in the left hand corner and the circular shape should
therefore be towards the centre of that wall behind us.’

They span round and looked expectantly at
the spot to which Dan was pointing. In fact, no floor was to be seen. It was
covered in old bric-a-brac and furniture.

‘Come on Dan, help me shift this chest of
drawers,’ said John. The pair of them lugged it to one side, then dragged the
other items out of the way, one by one.

A tarpaulin lay stretched across the area in
question so they pulled that back too, eager to discover what was beneath. They
saw what looked like a seamless expanse of stone. On closer inspection they realised
the floor was covered with large, heavy flagstones.

‘That is about where the circle was
indicated on the diagram,’ said Dan, pointing.

‘Surely what we are looking for is a kind of
manhole cover,’ said Louise.

‘Yes, that would be nice, but there isn’t
one,’ pointed out Dan. ‘There are just great big flagstones right across the
floor.’

‘Are we sure we’re looking in the right
place?’ asked John, scratching his chin.

‘Absolutely sure,’ replied Dan, so long as
this map is accurate. The circle on that map would be located somewhere beneath
that flagstone there.’

‘So that’s it then,’ said Louise, looking disappointed,
‘nothing more we can do?’

‘We can do one of two things,’ said Dan. ‘We
can give up, or we can try and get that flagstone up. It looks a pretty tough
job but it might lever out.’

‘Why don’t we try it,’ said John. ‘Cheer up
Louise, it’s better than finding the floor had been set in a foot of concrete.
Question is, is there a suitable tool for the job? We need a strong spade or
pick axe or something.’

They were in luck. There was a full range of
garden tools, including two tough, if rusty spades and a pick axe, presumably
dating from when the lighthouse had a full-time keeper. He must have had his
own garden patch, although the students couldn’t imagine anything growing successfully
on that small, windswept island.

John, being the strongest, first had a go
with the pick axe but was unable to manoeuvre either its head or chisel edge
beneath the flagstone, which had probably lain undisturbed since the lighthouse
and outbuilding were built. He picked up the spade instead, his face contorting
in agony as he tried in vain to insert it under the huge slab.

‘Let me try at the same time with the other
spade,’ suggested Dan. Their combined leverage slowly did the trick and the
huge stone tablet began, grudgingly, to yield. With their spades fully
underneath, the job got easier.

‘Right, girls,’ said John. ‘We need your
help now, can you stand on the spade handles to lift the flagstone up as much
as possible while Dan and I try to wrench it back.’

The girls did so and John and Dan pulled
hard at its edge. Neither was wearing gloves and its rough edges cut into their
hands, drawing blood.

‘Aaaagh,’ yelled the pair noisily as the flagstone
eventually toppled, propelling them backwards and causing them to fall over, to
the amusement of the girls.

‘It reminds me of the nursery story of the Giant
Turnip,’ hooted Louise.

The boys weren’t amused; their hands were
sore and their backs hurt. Within seconds that was forgotten as they stared at
the ground below. John and Dan got their spades to clear the dust and debris
away and there before them, was what they had hoped for: a large circular iron lid
embedded in the ground topped with an iron loop for a handle.

John slid the head of the pick axe
underneath and tugged upwards. The lid pulled away reasonably easily, and
beneath was a circular shaft disappearing into a black void. Dan shone his
powerful torch into the hole. He could see a series of iron rungs, presumably
for use as a ladder.

‘It looks dry down there,’ said Dan. ‘We
must be careful of any encroachment of sea water, but I can’t see any. The
question now is, do we trust these rungs? They won’t have been used for a long
time and if they gave way we’d be in trouble.’

‘There’s some rope in the storage cupboard,’
said Louise. ‘Why don’t we make it fast to somewhere then throw it into the
hole, so if the rungs start to give way, we can grab it and pull ourselves back
up.’

She went to get it and John and Dan secured
it to the sturdy door handle of the outbuilding before throwing the coiled rope
into the shaft.

‘I’ll go first,’ said John, ‘I’m the
heaviest so if the rungs hold my weight they’ll hold everyone’s and if not,
I’ll have most strength to climb the rope again.’

The ironwork was still strong and John got to
the bottom without difficulty. Dan went next, then Louise and finally Emma, who
looked a little alarmed. Somehow, the prospect of actually disappearing down a
black hole didn’t seem half so appealing as it had from the bright and airy lamp
room. She swallowed hard and gingerly descended. Dan shone his torch around.
They found themselves in a tunnel which appeared to end at the bottom of the
shaft. They had only one direction in which to walk and Dan guessed it was
towards the shore, although it was hard to be sure.

‘Are we ok to explore?’ he said, noticing
Emma’s frightened face.

The others nodded. They felt jumpy and
worried but adrenaline was pumping through them and none had any desire to turn
back, not even Emma.

‘Come on,’ said Dan and he began to walk
along the passageway. The others followed. It was a surreal experience. They
heard an intermittent whooshing sound as they walked along.

‘I bet that’s the sea above!’ exclaimed
John. ‘We must be under the sea bed. That’s good news, it means the tunnel
should be dry because the sea is actually above us.’

Nonetheless, they looked nervously at the
roof as if to check it definitely was intact. The four had to walk with care.
The roof would sometimes drop alarmingly and they would need to bend double.

‘We’re not going to get ourselves lost, are
we?’ she asked.

‘That would be impossible,’ Dan reassured
her, ‘because there are no tunnels branching off. To get back, all we need to
do is turn round and return the way we’ve come.’

Suddenly, to their left, they saw what
looked like another passage. They had to be careful now if this were to turn
into any kind of labyrinth.

‘It may not be a tunnel at all,’ whispered
Dan. ‘It might be a cave.’

Gingerly Dan stepped through the gap and flashed
his torch around. It was a cave! Could it be the one that Felipe, captain of the
Providencia, had discovered over two centuries earlier? Could this be the place
where he had stored treasure salvaged from his ship?

 

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