Strangers at Witchend, page 14
He was not clever. He was angry, frightened and sick with horror at this man who, he believed, had deliberately and with the utmost cruelty killed their dog. He wanted to protect Mary, pride made him struggle not to show his fears to Kevin and Harriet, and so, as he held his head high and faced the crafty Jones, he boasted and gave away information that betrayed them.
Within ten minutes Jones knew that the twins not only knew Mr Sterling but were now living at Witchend. He also learned that a London journalist was in the district investigating the manufacture of faked jewellery and that the four children in this room knew that Smith had been making it in this house. And as the boy twin became more and more excited he boasted that this journalist knew about the Assay Office in Birmingham and that he would soon find them as they had told him that they were going to take the Smith boy to Greystone. It did not take Jones long to realize that this was possible, and when the elder girl disclosed that it was her grandfather who was going to buy The Golden Lion in Ludlow and that he knew all about fake jewellery, he realized that there was no time to waste. While listening to these disclosures he had also heard Charlie moving his belongings and equipment out of the house and into the van. It was obvious now that none of these children must be allowed to communicate with any adults or the police until he could get right away after destroying any evidence which would incriminate him. It was galling to realize that his plans had been ruined by four children who, he believed, had told him the truth. The only one who had not volunteered any information was the Smith boy, but he was obviously a poor specimen and his stupid parents were really to blame for mishandling that situation. Presently, when they were away from this benighted place, he would deal with the Smiths who had always been a weakness in his organization.
"Now let us go," Mary demanded. "You promised we should have our dog. If he's dead you're a murderer and we shall never, never forgive you."
Jones got up. "Wait here."
They heard the lock click and they were alone again.
Kevin spoke first. "It's all my fault. I didn't know it would be like this. I swear I didn't. That man said I hadn't seen him with my dad before, but he's a liar. I know now. He's the man my dad works for and he tells him what to do. And what about her - my mother, I mean? Where's she gone and how am I going to find her now? Where'll we go?"
"You'll go where we go," Harriet said. "It won't be long now before he lets us out and then one of us can run to the village where our friend Jenny lives and where there's a telephone. We'll find your mother, Kevin... And I've not forgotten Mackie, Mary. We'll be with him soon."
But they were not. Jones called the twins first, and as he locked the door behind them, Harriet and Kevin ran across and heard Mary's anguished cry, the sound of a struggle and the curses of the two men. They knew then that Jones had fooled them again.
"They're taking them away," Kevin gasped. "My dad's gone too. They must have killed the dog. What shall we do, Harry? They're going to leave us here."
Harriet sat at the table and covered her face with her hands. She was nearly beaten. They had separated them from their friends. They'd killed Macbeth and they knew now how much was known about them. Jones, she was sure now, was completely ruthless, and although she did not say so, she was certain that he would come back for them.
Charlie came first.
"You're coming with us, boy. With your pals. And this kid too. We don't want no fuss, do we?"
Kevin looked at his father with horror.
"Where's that little dog? Where's my mum? You let that man hurt those twins. What you done with them?"
Charlie's face changed. What was meant to be a smile became a nasty smirk.
"Come on, boy. No fuss, I said. The other two are where they can't make no more trouble. And the dog won't neither. He's had it."
During the last few terrifying hours Harriet had been the bravest. She had done her best to prove her loyalty to the twins and to help Kevin. She hated Jones, but she despised this cruel and cowardly man who seemed to have driven away his wife and to have been utterly callous to his son. And now, with this heartless grin on his face, he was sneering about the killing of a dog. So she lost her temper, rushed at him, and with tears in her eyes shouted that he was a coward and a bully.
Charlie's response was typical. He swung back his arm and pushed her so hard that she stumbled backwards against the table and fell to the floor. For a long moment Kevin stared at his father and then for the first time in his life he tried to fight him. With a curse, just as Jones came back into the cottage, Charlie held Kevin with one hand and snatched off his glasses with the other.
"Now shut up, both of you. Get out. Behave yourselves or I'll smash up his glasses for good."
They gave in. There was nothing else to do. Harriet took Kevin's arm as Charlie pushed them out of the cottage and locked the door. Jones was coming towards them through the wilderness that was once a garden.
"Hurry," he snapped. "You two kids in the back of the van with the others. Make a row and there'll be real trouble. Remember the dog."
He then unlocked the back of the van which was a clutter of old suitcases, boxes, gas cylinders and other equipment. The twins were huddled together in a corner and as soon as Harriet had helped Kevin and clambered in herself, the men locked them in and drove off. It was almost dark inside as there were no windows and the four children were now too cowed and exhausted to protest or even to speak to each other. Later, when they realized where they were, they remembered the van grinding up a long hill in bottom gear and eventually, when it stopped, they guessed correctly that they were in the country because there was no sound of traffic.
Jones, from the driving seat, then turned and pushed back a shutter.
"You won't get hurt if you do as you're told. We're moving house and we're taking you into your new home with your eyes covered. No use shouting because nobody will hear you. No use struggling either. One at a time and the young boy first."
"No," Mary said loudly and firmly. "You're a liar. You said we could go to Mackie. Dickie isn't going anywhere without me and I'm not going anywhere without him."
"And as Kevin can't see without his glasses because of the dirty, cowardly trick you played on him, he isn't going anywhere without me," Harriet protested. "We all know now how brave you both are. We've seen how you fight a little dog. We don't care if you blindfold us and we'll come with you quietly but only if we go together. We mean this. If you try to separate us we shall fight and struggle."
They heard Jones mutter something to Charlie before pushing some dirty dusters and scraps of sacking through the shutter.
"O.K., kids," he said with a trace of respect in his voice. "If you don't want our help, blindfold yourselves properly and we'll take you in together."
"Do as he says," Harriet whispered. "We can't escape now. I believe they're running away, and if only they leave us alone together we'll think of something. Be brave, Mary. They can't separate us now, and try not to fuss too much about your glasses, Kevin. We'll look after you and remember that our friends will find us soon... We'll blindfold each other and don't try to peep, Dickie. Don't give them the excuse for getting rough."
"Fair enough," Dickie whispered. "I think I know where we are anyway."
They tied the dirty rags round each other's eyes as Jones watched them from one of the half opened doors of the van. Then he tested the knots.
"I'm coming out first," Harriet said. "Then the twins and Kevin and we're holding on to each other. Keep your word and we'll keep ours."
Jones led the strange procession, and although Kevin clung to Mary's hand, he refused to touch his father who slouched along in the rear. For a few steps, while they were in the open, the air was wonderfully clean and fresh after the stuffiness of Greystone Cottage and the smell of stale oil and rubbish in the back of the van. They stopped while a door was unlocked. They heard the protest of little-used hinges and stumbled over a stone step into the dank, stale chill of an empty house.
"Stairs up," Jones warned. "And take it easy and keep to the right with your hands on the wall. There aren't any banisters... And you get busy down there, Charlie."
Their groping fingers peeled damp wallpaper from the plaster, and beneath their feet the rotting timber crumbled. Inspired by Harriet's courage and leadership, they made no complaint as they were led across what must have been a big landing into another room.
"You're home, kids," Jones sneered. "See if you like it."
They pulled off their bandages, and only Kevin, rubbing his weak eyes, muttered, "I can't see... He won't let me see." Harriet was again reminded of her dream.
Their new prison was large but only dimly lit because the two windows were boarded over inside. There were patches of damp on the walls, strips of dirty paper were hanging from the ceiling and there were holes in some of the floorboards. The room was empty. No furniture, no rubbish - nothing to show that anybody had ever used it. A dead room, smelling of damp and decay.
They looked round with horror as Jones, with his back to the closed door, said,
"You'll stay here until you're fetched. Don't waste your breath shouting because I shall be the only person here and you'll hurt yourself if you try to get out. There's a lock on the door and I've got the key."
"But you dare not keep us here without anything to eat and drink!" Harriet said. "You dare not. We shall starve. You just can't keep us imprisoned here. You'll be sorry because our friends are looking for us now."
"That's why we've found a new home for you," he grinned.
"I can't think of anything disgusting enough to say to you," Dickie said suddenly, "but I can tell you that if you knew what we're thinking you'd be disgusted with yourself all right. We're hungry and thirsty and you'd better do something about it."
To their surprise Jones opened the door and shouted to Charlie to bring up some tins of food and a jug of water. While they were waiting it was obvious that he was uneasy, and following Harriet's example they turned their backs on him and refused to answer one or two half-hearted attempts to be more friendly. They heard Charlie coming upstairs, heard Jones open the door and drag something into the room, but none of them turned round until they were sure they were alone.
Just inside the locked door was a cardboard carton and an enamel jug of water, and as Dickie ran over to it, Harriet went to Mary who was leaning against the boarded window still looking as if her heart was broken.
"Mary, darling, we all know how you feel, but it's really just as awful for Dickie. You've got to help us get out of here and we can't do without you. And you must help Kevin too, because we're Lone Piners and we're pledged to do this. He can't see, Mary! His father took his glasses and he's nearly blind. You've got to be brave and help us... Help Dickie with the food. We'll all feel better when we've had something to eat."
"Come on, twin," Dickie called. "It's not exactly a fabulous banquet but it's real eats. They can't have poisoned what's inside the tins."
Mary smiled bravely at Harriet, and as she went over to Dickie they heard the engine of the van start up, accelerate and then move off.
"So he's a liar again," Kevin said. "My dad can't drive so if they haven't gone off together he's left him downstairs. I reckon he wouldn't do that though. What shall we do?"
"Eat first," Dickie said promptly. "Here's a tin-opener which may come in useful for more than opening tins. Anybody know where we are? I bet we're in Beacon Cottage. I bet it was Jones who's been messing about here and who put the oil on the locks... Don't worry, Kevin. We'll soon be out of here. Our friends all know we've been here before."
Charlie had been generous with the food he had taken from some secret store downstairs and they had all had enough to eat when Dickie, rummaging about in the bottom of the carton, found the best treasure of all - Kevin's glasses.
"There you are, Kevin," Harriet said triumphantly. "Your father was sorry he did that to you. That proves that he's not so bad really."
This discovery gave them all fresh hope. With the patient use of the tin-opener they loosened a nail on one of the boards across the window. The next nail was easier and then, with their combined strength, they wrenched the board out of the rotting sill. Kevin then smashed the glass with one of the tins. Clean, fresh air flowed into the room and they looked out across the heather of the Mynd towards the Stretton Hills. It was nearly dusk and the silence intense. Outside the window was a broad ledge and gutter, and as there seemed to be no way of breaking down the door of their prison Harriet offered to crawl along the ledge which, she remembered, ran the length of the house and break into another room and get downstairs that way. In their excitement they forgot that Charlie might still be downstairs or that Jones might have returned. Kevin, now that he could see again, was a changed character and insisted on going first along the ledge. Dickie went next, Harriet and Mary following. With the slats wrenched from the first window the boys broke the glass of the next and kicked in the rotting boards. This room was also empty and unused, but the door was ajar and with Dickie in front they all crept down the dangerous stairs. The front door was locked and barred and Harriet, surprisingly hand-in-hand with Kevin, called to Dickie,
"They must have taken us in the back door. Go through the kitchen and we'll break our way out somehow... Don't worry any more, Kevin. We're safe now. We'll soon find your mother."
They hurried through the kitchen which was ankle deep in tins and bottles, beer cans and soiled cartons. Dickie reached the back door first and to his surprise found it ajar. Two inches of golden evening light tempted him to freedom. He flung back the door, but as the others pressed forward they saw, over Dickie's shoulder, a man standing only a few feet away.
"Don't come out, children," he said quietly. "Go back into the house. I have some questions to ask you."
The man was Robert Ruddy, the birdwatcher.
11. Friday: Fire like a Red Flower
"What shall we do, David?" Peter whispered as she held the little dog in her arms. "We must find the others but we can't leave Mackie. He's just alive and p'raps we can save him."
David, still with one hand on Macbeth's shaggy head, sat back on his heels and looked up at Jenny.
"Stay with Peter, Jenny, and help to carry Macbeth, as gently as you can, back to the village. Be careful of his right foreleg which looks as if it's broken. He's been beaten with something heavy. Your father is home now, isn't he? Good. I'm going to run back ahead of you and telephone. We've first got to tell the police everything we know and that the twins and Harriet have disappeared. And I'll ring Seven Gates too."
"Wait for us in the village, David," Peter pleaded. "Don't go on somewhere else without leaving a message."
Almost before she had finished speaking David was on his way. For a few minutes he was too angry to think coherently. First he blamed himself for allowing the twins and Harriet to go off alone. He had been so sure that they were sharing a secret, and because he wanted to go off with Peter he had not bothered to make them tell the truth. And in his parents' absence he, and not Mr Sterling, was responsible for them and, indeed, for Harriet. What was he going to tell the gentle, generous Mr Sparrow about Harriet who meant so much to them all? He had not told Jenny and Peter about the front room in the cottage where he had found Dickie's broken penknife and had seen many signs of a struggle. Obviously the three children had been abducted from here - probably because they had found one of the secret workshops for which James Wilson was also searching.
After a while he was forced to slow down, and while he leaned against a tree to regain his breath he looked again at the tyre marks of two cars in the soft soil of the track. And this reminded him of the woman who had been leaving Greystone Cottage as they arrived and had obviously been looking for somebody. "He's gone," she had said. "The place is empty." Who was she and for whom was she looking?
So many strangers, as one of them had said. What parts were they playing in the drama in which they had become involved? Suddenly his memory of something vital clicked into place like the shutter of a camera. He remembered the number of the car - NKE 751F. Remembered too that as the woman had driven off and as Peter and Jenny were running to find Macbeth, he had instinctively memorized that number. As he ran on he repeated it to himself again and again. This might be the clue they needed and he dared not forget it.
Mr Harman was pushing up the sunblind over his shop window when David ran with faltering steps up the village street, and he had to help David up the step and into a chair.
All the Lone Piners liked Jenny's father. Like Mr Sterling, he was a gentle man, devoted to his only daughter. He approved of her attachment to Tom Ingles and was always happy to see Peter, David and the twins.
"Steady, David. Steady. Take your time. When you're ready tell me what's wrong... Not our Jen, is it?"
David shook his head.
"No, sir. Jenny and Peter will be here soon with our dog. Somebody's tried to kill him at Greystone Cottage and the twins and Harriet Sparrow have been abducted. Please may I use your telephone? The police must be told and I want Charles Sterling at Seven Gates. He'll help us."
Mr Harman nodded and led him into the little office behind the post office counter. David could not remember the farm's telephone number so Mr Harman found it for him and then asked if he would like him to go and meet the two girls and help with the dog.
"I am alone here, David, as my wife has gone into Bishop's Castle to see a friend. Where can I be of most help?"
