Murder at Maddleskirk Abbey (15 page)

‘Barnaby, you are not in trouble of any kind and neither is Claude. All we want to do is find Simon and we think you can help.’

‘You’d be best searching that side of this old ruin,’ and he pointed towards the south.

‘Why’s that?’

‘The best place for seeing nightjars is that patch of woodland over there.’ He pointed to an area below the cliff. ‘That’s where I suggested he search. I told him he’d have to find somewhere secret and hidden, and I told him to look in the branches as it was getting dark but not to scare the birds off.’

‘Was there a hide nearby?’

‘Just some parts of the old ruin, Mr Rhea, old cells, knocked about a bit but with gaps for windows, overlooking that bit of the wood … good hides … you could find a way to them if you were small enough…’

‘Where are they?’

‘Over there as well.’ He pointed again towards the cliff behind the woodland, a lofty embankment faced with bare earth that had been so recently exposed by a landslide. It was about fifty metres from where we were standing and it was evident that a massive oak and some smaller trees had toppled down as the ground had collapsed beneath them. The shifting trees had carried tons of earth, rocks and even huge boulders onto the roof of the hidden priory which, in places, had collapsed beneath the sudden impact, shock and tremendous weight.

‘That big oak and those little ’uns all came down yesterday, Mr Rhea … and some of those rocks … new falls, they are.’

‘You mean he’s somewhere down there?’

‘He could be, that’s all I can say, but I think it’s likely.’

‘Did you see him go down any of the openings? There’s quite a few – it’s difficult knowing where they lead to.’

‘No, I never saw him after he walked away from me, but I warned him not to go down into the old priory, so I did.’

‘I’m sure you did, Barnaby. So I repeat my question: how do we get in to find out if he’s there.’

‘He is there, Mr Rhea.’ Elaine had no doubt in her mind. ‘My dog tells me and dogs cannot lie. Even if Simon can’t speak to
us, Sherlock is telling us that he – or someone else – is down there. Alive.’

Barnaby stood at our side looking thoroughly miserable. He shrugged his shoulders and I could see tears in his eyes. ‘It wasn’t my fault, Mr Rhea, it wasn’t, God knows that. I did warn him….’

I placed my arms around his thin shoulders. ‘No one is suggesting you’re to blame, Barnaby. You’re not. But we must find out where Sherlock is, then set about getting Simon and the two dogs out.’ I now addressed the others. ‘Has anyone any idea how to do that among those unstable rocks and trees?’

‘I don’t know, God above knows I don’t know,’ sniffed Barnaby. ‘I wish I did. I wish I could help—’

‘You’ve helped a lot, Barnaby.’ I patted him on his back. ‘I mean that.’

By this time, Prior Tuck had moved closer with his
monkstables
as they continued to inspect the ground beneath them. They were close enough for me to address Father Will. ‘Father Will, you are a caver, I believe?’

‘A retired caver, I think! It’s not going to be easy, even for the most experienced of cavers. We are not dealing with a solid rock roof and well-used routes, we’re talking of an unstable ceiling full of dangerously loose earth and rocks, uprooted trees, probably water somewhere along the route … we need experts.’

‘At this moment, we haven’t got experts: you’re our expert. So what can you suggest?’ I tried to remain calm as I felt a tense situation building up.

He thought for a while and then said, ‘We need someone to enter the passages with a radio, a torch and something to drink or eat, with a rope trailing behind so someone else can follow. We need to find a way through the labyrinth so we can carry out the rescue. Then, once we’ve found him we’ve got to get him out. That won’t be easy especially if he is unconscious or injured. And we must be aware we are at risk from further roof falls. Our mere presence could trigger them off.’

Father Will’s caution created a few moments of silence as we all began to understand the awesome task that lay ahead.

‘Can’t we dig down to him?’ asked Claude, anxious to be useful.

‘No, the pressure of digging and any movement above the place he is lying could cause the ground to collapse and bury him. Or a falling rock could crush him.’

Father Prior took control. ‘Father Will, do you belong to a cave rescue team?’

‘No, Father Prior, it became impossible due to my monastic responsibilities.’

‘But do you know whom to contact? We need an expert to guide us as we could do more harm than good if we try to get him out.’

‘I’m still in contact with my former colleagues through newsletters.’

‘Good. Then can you call some of them to see if anyone can come to guide us or even work the depths?’

‘I’ll ring from the cop shop. Immediately.’

‘I’ll drive you across the valley in my car,’ offered Blaketon.

And so we had to stand around for a few minutes whilst Sherlock continued to bark at intervals to remind us of our responsibilities.

‘Can you tell from Sherlock’s barking whether it is a person he’s found and not a badger?’ I asked Elaine.

‘Oh yes, it’s definitely a person. He wouldn’t bark for a badger.’

‘Is the person dead or alive?’ I knew the answer but needed her reassurance.

‘Alive, definitely. But the person could be asleep or
unconscious
. One bark means a corpse.’

‘How can we trace the victim’s whereabouts by using the dog?’

‘If the injured person is able to communicate, we could send a length of white rope tied to the dog’s collar; if the person is able, he could detach it and attach it to himself, then we would
recall the dog. Or we could order the dog to stay. A person experienced in caving or mining would then descend and follow the rope – there are phones that operate underground and other devices from which we could get a fix. In this case, we can’t do that right now. We might, if we had more time before dark.’

‘It’s not possible to get a fix on Sherlock’s barking, is it?’ asked the prior. ‘If we could, we could begin to dig or excavate … very, very carefully of course.’

‘It’s obvious the tunnels are wide enough and high enough for Sherlock to find his quarry,’ I added. ‘That makes it seem to me that a small person could crawl through to him.’

‘A small person might reach him, but we’ve still got to get him out,’ said Elaine. ‘You can’t rely on dragging a casualty along a tunnel, especially someone who might be badly injured. We have no idea what conditions are like but know it will be dark, wet and cold. From what I know, the only way to get him out is to dig down.’

‘But that creates its own extra dangers,’ I reminded them.

‘I think,’ said Father Prior, ‘that we must establish his
position
as closely as we can in the circumstances – I am sure we have, or can acquire, the technology to do that and then we can start to excavate as closely as we dare.’

‘A good idea,’ said Claude. ‘I once saw a Jack Russell dug out of a rabbit warren like that – we go in by another entrance, listen to Sherlock barking to get the directions established and bingo, the lad will be saved. It worked with that terrier.’

As the banter went on around us and as the time began ticking away with worrying speed, I wandered away from the rescuers who were now standing around and chattering to no useful avail. We needed actions, not words. Sherlock
maintained
his barking every few minutes with encouraging responses from Elaine but I was acutely aware we were making absolutely no progress. From a short distance I looked upon the rescue site hoping against hope for some inspiration that might
get things moving. Even if Father Will turned up with a contact phone number for a rescue specialist, it would take time for him or her to reach the area.

I became increasingly concerned that darkness would envelop us. We must execute an immediate manoeuvre if our mission was to be successful. As we awaited Father Will, I sought somewhere quiet to think – and think hard. As I walked down the lane for about a hundred yards, I found an elevated but safe piece of land on the edge of the woods and climbed onto it to get a wider and better view of the rescue site. From this distance, there were clearer signs of the problem. I could see the new scar down the cliff-face where the recent landslide had deposited tons of rocks, trees and soil on top of the old priory that was now imprisoning the boy.

Had he been trapped by that new fall? Or had he stumbled into a situation that had been there for a long, long time?

I descended from my vantage point and hailed Barnaby Crabtree.

‘Barnaby, can I talk to you again, over there?’ and I indicated the path of land I had just vacated.

‘Sure, Constable Rhea,’ he said, and I climbed back to my vantage point with him close behind. ‘What are we doing?’

‘See all that fallen earth, rocks and stuff, Barnaby?’

‘Sure I do, Constable Rhea. Quite an avalanche – and it came down only yesterday. I heard the rumble, I’m glad I was nowhere near it.’

‘Barnaby, I want you to think carefully and be honest with me – you are not in trouble, I am not trying to catch you out or get you into bother – but when you told Simon about the bird hide so that he could conceal himself to see the nightjars, was it under there, under where all those rocks and trees and sliding earth came to rest only yesterday?’

I hoped he wouldn’t think I was trying to get him into some kind of trouble and was relieved when he responded. ‘Yes, it would be about there, Constable Rhea. Under there somewhere. Not in other parts … In fact one of those trees that slid down the
hillside is the one where the nightjars would have been roosting….’

I began to feel my heart pounding. ‘Barnaby, we must be sure about this, so do you think Simon could be under that part of the wood? It’s very important that I know.’

He looked at me and I could see tears of fear in his eyes. ‘Yes, Constable Rhea, I’m sure of it. I shouldn’t have told him to hide down there … if he’s anywhere, he’ll be down there….’

‘So we need to get him out, don’t we? And that means we must find him soon! Where was the entrance to the hide before the landslide?’

He hesitated, and I thought he would not answer for fear of being blamed.

‘Will you show me?’

He nodded again and walked towards it with me following. I don’t think any of the others had observed our short diversion and at this stage, I did not want any of them to accompany us. This was between me and Barnaby. He led me to a huge outcrop of rock on top of which there grew a massive beech tree the roots of which encircled the rock as if holding it in position like the tentacles of a giant octopus. The landslide had missed it even though much of it had come to rest nearby.

‘Under there.’ He pointed to a dark, narrow entrance which appeared to disappear deep into the earth beneath the rock; it was the sort of hole that I would have thought was a fox earth or badger sett.

‘How far down does it go, Barnaby?’

‘It used to lead right beneath the surface, Constable Rhea, turning back on itself but branching out in all directions into several different passages, with the walls of the old monks’ cells still standing with no roofs…a real warren it was, you had to know your way in and out.’

‘Do you think it’s still open?’

‘No,’ he said, with more than a hint of finality. ‘No, the
landslide
has made the roofs collapse. You can see the dents in the
old floor of the wood that cover them … maybe a dog could get in here and search … but if the lad’s in there, he’ll have to be dug out.’

‘Barnaby, you’re a treasure.’ I shouted Simon’s name into the hole but got no response, so I told Barnaby, ‘I’m going to see if that police dog can go in through this entrance.’

With Barnaby following, I returned to the throng who were still awaiting the return of Father Stutely and sought Elaine.

‘Is Sherlock still underground?’

‘Yes, and still speaking to us to say there’s someone down there.’

‘Can I ask him to test another entrance? Can you recall him? Or Holmes?’

‘Yes, of course, Mr Rhea. I’ll recall Sherlock. I still don’t know what’s happened to Holmes. Sherlock might give us a clue as to where he’s been, depending which way he comes out.’

And then Father Prior came to my side. ‘You look excited, Nick, it shows in your face.’

‘I think Barnaby could have found Simon for us.’ In view of the circumstances, it was a bold statement so I explained my theory. Father Prior listened intently and nodded.

‘I understand what you are saying, Nick, well done. What do you suggest now?’

‘I would like Sherlock to go down here to see if this is where Simon went in. I must admit that when I heard Sherlock speak earlier, he sounded a long way off. If this landslide has locked Simon in, he could be much closer than we realize – and Barnaby does say this is the site of the hide Simon would have used to watch the nightjars from underground.’

Elaine recalled Sherlock from his earlier success and this time indicated the hole beneath the beech tree on its massive rock. ‘Seek,’ she commanded.

We all stood, watched and listened as Sherlock’s wagging tail vanished from sight somewhere among the debris. The wait seemed interminable. Then he spoke again with those two distinctive barks. This time, they sounded much closer.

‘He’s in there,’ Elaine sounded delighted. ‘He’s not far away either.’

‘All we have to do is get him out,’ said Prior Tuck.

He relaxed just a little as I saw Father Will returning with Oscar Blaketon.

‘Sorry to be so long,’ apologized Oscar. ‘We had to make lots of calls.’

‘And all without success,’ admitted Father Will. ‘Would you believe the rescue team is already out on a job in the Dales, so everyone’s committed. It seems a team of cavers are missing down one of the caves near Ingleton, flood waters trapped them yesterday, another result of the storm.’

‘I think, under the circumstances, we can manage,’ I offered. ‘We have all those diggers and earth moving machines on the construction site, with a lot of willing hands, I am sure. We can make good use of them and their operators….’