CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - THURSDAY 6th JANUARY

12:15 am

As midnight passed and a new day began, Davina and Tracy waited anxiously in their bedroom for the landlady of the Coach and Horses to appear. She was named Samantha but preferred to be called Sam for short. She considered it sounded much more in keeping with her sexual leanings. But for all that she looked very feminine. She was of medium build, quite attractive, with well developed breasts and a figure kept in trim by the constant humping of beer barrels. However, her dark black hair proved a reminder to everyone of those sexual tendencies. It was cropped short and spiky with no more than a quarter inch of hair anywhere on her head.
Thursdays were never a busy night at the pub and the three women had chatted across the bar for most of the evening in a little 'get to know you' session. Davina and Tracy learned that Sam was twenty-nine years of age and had once been married to the landlord here. However they had since divorced. The reason was obvious: They were sexually incompatible. Since then she had taken on the running of the inn by herself. She was therefore a very lonely woman and naturally frustrated sexually.
Sam had not taken much persuading to come to the girl's room that night. But as she explained it would have to be after the last awkward customer had gone and she had put the takings away. She had therefore told Davina and Tracy not to expect her until just after midnight.
Davina and Tracy were naturally nervous. They had never done this sort of thing before. In fact they had never even slept in a bed together themselves. One of them had always been on watch whilst the other slept. So having chatted about it in the bedroom beforehand, it was basically decided to let Sam take the lead. After all, their mission was to make her happy and provide them with an alibi. The whole purpose of their return visit was to get Sam to swear that they had stayed at her pub for the last five nights. Whilst alone together they had talked about what they should wear in bed. Neither of the girls had packed anything particularly sexy and their night-gowns were the long winter cotton sort that covered everything. In the end they decided to be waiting sat up in bed wearing just their bras and panties. It seemed like the best idea they could come up with.
At about fifteen minutes past midnight there came a knock on the bedroom door.
"Come on in," shouted a nervous Davina.
Sam entered. She had changed into a sexy see-through nightie. It was short and made of black lace. A matching pair of black-lace panties also showed beneath the hem. She carried with her a tray that contained a bottle of champagne and three glasses. She placed it down on the surface of the dressing table and turned to the girls sat together in the large double bed. If anything she was more nervous than the girls.
"Would you girls like a little drink first?" asked Sam in an attempt to break the ice.
Davina and Tracy looked at each other. Both girls had been drinking most of the evening and were already perhaps a little tipsy. Tracy nodded her head.
"Yes please Sam, we'd love to," replied Davina.
Sam popped the cork and filled three glasses. She then carried them over to the bed. She handed one each to Davina and Tracy. With the third glass in her own hands she sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Here's to us then," said Sam raising her glass in toast.
Three glasses clinked together and they all took a little sip.
As they drank Davina could not help but notice that Sam's focus was continually darting between Tracy's breasts and those of her own. Davina looked across the bed to Tracy's cleavage. Rope marks were still in evidence from the working over she received from Malcolm Smith that very morning. Nervously she fingered the line of a scar that crossed her own body along the tops of her breasts. The whip marks were almost healed now, but the thin brown stripes left behind were still very much in evidence. How was she going to explain all this away? Somewhere along the line the rope burns and whip marks to their bodies had been overlooked and were never meant to play a factor in the overall scheme of things.
"What happened there Davina?" asked Sam and sounding a little concerned.
For a second or two Davina was at a loss for an answer. For one thing it was impossible to tell her the truth. Her real-life experiences at the hands of the maniac Malcolm Smith had to remain a secret. But these were most obviously whip marks, and Tracy's scars decidedly rope-burns. On the spur of the moment it was difficult to think up a credible excuse. Quickly she considered the best possible response. Perhaps if she told Sam that both she and Tracy were into the more kinkier sides of sex, then she might take that for an answer and leave it at that.
"Oh this?… Oh this is nothing Sam…Tracy and myself sometimes dabble in a bit of bondage and discipline now and again, don't we Tracy?" suggested Davina and giving her a little nudge in the ribs with an elbow.
"Y.. Yes…" replied a confused Tracy.
Tracy was wondering where all this was leading, but opted to remain quiet and let Davina do all the talking.
A broad grin crossed Sam's face.
"Well I didn't think it of you two," remarked Sam at the revelation. She went on to explain: "But would you believe it,.. I'm into it too... We've got a little club going across the road, and I pop over sometimes when the pub's not too busy. We just use ropes over there, whips are taboo, but we still manage to have some fantastic evenings."
"Oh, is that so Sam!" was all Davina could think of to say in reply, then added without much thought: "It's a pity we've got no ropes or anything here with us tonight, or we could use them."
Immediately Davina spoke those words she began to rue what she said. For straightaway Sam was up off the bed and heading for the door.
"Just wait there a second," she called across the room. "I've got a few things you might like!"
Davina turned to Tracy with a look of horror upon her face. "Oh shit!" was all she could manage to utter.
And something to the effect: "That's another fine mess you've got us into!" issued from Tracy's lips, but possibly put a little more stronger than that.
After a few minutes Sam returned to the bedroom. She had in her arms four leather cuffs and chains, and a very large black strap-on dildo. She dumped everything down on the bed.
Sam smiled. "I've got these things… What do you think Davina?… Do you want to use them?" she asked.
Davina stretched down the bed and collected two of the leather cuffs. She handed one to Tracy. The chain attached to the cuff was about two feet in length and had a clip on the end similar to that on a dog lead. It did not take much imagination to figure out that these chains could be attached to the four corners of the bed. But that was not her real concern, the size and shape of the strap-on dildo had her more worried. But there was to be no turning back now. They had a mission to accomplish, and they would both have to grin and bear it.
"Great," replied Davina after a few seconds inspection of the cuff and chain. "What do you want to do then Sam?.. You're the host here so we'll let you decide the first play."
Sam appeared to be highly delighted at the offer.
"Well thank you Davina. If you like I'll get on the bed first, and you can take it in turns with this," replied Sam and picking up the dildo from off the bed.
Davina looked to Tracy to see what she was thinking.
Tracy nodded her consent. After all she had been through Sam's suggestion did not seem too bad at all.
Davina stepped out from one side of the bed, and Tracy did the other. Sam was standing on Tracy's side and she kissed her on the lips as she rose.
"You've got beautiful tits," Sam told Tracy, and she brushed a hand gently across the fabric of her bulging bra.
Davina looked across the bed and saw what was happening. It was time for some quick thinking. Holding out a cuff and chain, she said: "Best get your nightie off and jump on the bed then Sam."
Sam licked her lips and pulled the black-lace nightie up and over her head. She dropped it on a chair next to the bed. Her breasts were not as large as Tracy's, that was an impossible task, but all the same they were big enough to call impressive. Davina waited, holding the short chain between her hands, whilst Sam dropped her panties down her legs and tossed them on the chair to join the previously discarded nightie.
Davina patted the bed. "Up on the bed, now!" she called in the best authoritarian voice she could muster.
She did not know what sort of role she should be playing, but being the dominatrix in the first instance seemed like the best idea. And hopefully it would also keep Tracy away from a certain amount of embarrassment.
Sam climbed on the bed, lay down centrally and spread out her arms and legs. Davina tossed a cuff and chain across to Tracy. They now had two cuffs each.
"You do that side Tracy, and I'll do this," said Davina.
Together they affixed the chains to the top and bottom of the bed, then buckled Sam's ankles and wrists into the cuffs. When they were finished Davina picked up the dildo and looked at the strapping arrangement. It was all made from rubber, and it fitted around the waist and up between the legs.
"Shall I do the honour's first?" Davina asked Tracy.
"Carry on," she replied.
Davina removed her bra and panties and strapped the dildo around her body. It was something new and novel to her, but in a strange way she felt the thrill of doing something different for the first time.
Tracy, on seeing Davina remove her bra and panties, did the same, and those huge breasts of hers bounced out of their confines for all to see.
Sam, despite her restraints was still calling the tune as regards having first say, and she spoke to Tracy: "Come up the bed Tracy, and let me suck your nipples."
Tracy looked across the bed for guidance. Davina nodded that she should do as requested, so she climbed up on the bed to sit astride Sam's waist. She then bent forward and began to gently sway her breasts across Sam's face. A tongue came out to wet the end of her nipples as each in turn passed to-and-fro about the mouth.
Sam moaned her approval. She had waited a long time for this. Then she felt a finger touch her clitoris and begin to gently massage the sensitive spot in a small circular motion. With Tracy sitting on top and rubbing her nipples against her face, and with Davina working away down below, she was in ecstasy. She wanted this to go on forever.
After a while, and after several positions later, Tracy moved to sit on Sam's face. There was now room for Davina to settle down between Sam's legs and work in the dildo. The large black rubber phallus slipped in easily and Davina began to move her body slowly backwards and forwards. From the moans issuing from beneath Tracy's buttocks, and the intensity now attached to each grunt, Davina considered Sam to be near the point of climax, so she quickened her pace.
But Sam was not the only one groaning on the bed. With the sight of Davina pumping away in front of her, and the effects of Sam's tongue working away between her own legs, Tracy felt herself becoming more and more aroused. She could not help it, but this was something novel and different to anything she had ever done before. She began to massage her clitoris and inserted a probing finger within her own virgina. She moaned with pleasure. This was something new and absolutely wonderful. Something she had never dreamed possible before.
At precisely the same moment as Sam reached orgasm, Tracy did the same, and the room echoed to dual of shouts of pleasure.
After a while, and when all had regained their breath, Sam was released from her bonds. As they all sat on the bed sipping a glass of champagne each, Davina held up the dildo.
"Who's turn next?" she asked.
Tracy snatched it from her. "Mine," she said.
For some unexplained reason, she was beginning to like this little game. Someone had once told her: 'Don't knock it until you've tried it!' Well, she had tried it, and you know what? She did like it!
Davina lay down on the bed. "I guess it's my turn on here then," she said.
She was the only one not to have reached an orgasm as yet, and she had no intentions of missing out on all of the fun.

7:30 am

Dawn was just breaking as Tracy kissed Sam goodbye on the doorstep of the Coach and Horses public house. They had all managed to get about four hours sleep, but that was all.
"Sorry we've got to leave so early Sam," apologised Tracy. "But we stayed in Lancashire a lot longer than planned and we've got to get back to the south coast before this evening."
"Then come again soon Tracy, and please bring Davina with you too," said Sam.
"We will Sam," replied Tracy. "In about a month's time like we promised, and we'll have another three in a bed session."
They kissed again before Tracy crossed the car park to the awaiting car.
Davina had already started the engine and was waiting at the entrance for Tracy to join her. As the car pulled away they both gave Sam a little wave.
The couple drove off with a certain amount of deep satisfaction inside them. They had achieved everything they set out to do. Davina had a revised receipt to prove that they had stopped at the Coach and Horses public house in Lancashire from the night of Saturday 1st January to the morning of Thursday 6th January. They also had someone in the shape of the landlady to swear that to be true.
There was also one more positive thing to have come out of this little episode. They had both made a true friend, and Tracy for certain was planning a return visit. She had meant it when she had said that she would be back in about a month's time. As for Davina, well, she still had a husband at home whom she loved dearly. But all the same she had not turned down the offer, and another threesome was still very much on the cards.
As they drove out from the outskirts of town and started to pick up the road signs for the motorway, Davina suggested: "We'll stop at a motorway services on the way, and phone Georgina from there. I reckon if all goes well we'll be back in Littlesea by four o'clock."

9:00 am

The  telephone rang in the cottage belonging to the parents of Wendy Bartlett.
Wendy's mother answered. Mr. Bartlett had already left for work.
"Hello, the Bartlett's," she answered simply.
"Good morning Mrs. Bartlett, this is Doctor Gabriel Lang here. I was wondering if Wendy was at home? I would like a word with her if I may," came the reply.
"Yes Dr. Lang, she's here. I'll give her a shout," said Mrs. Bartlett.
She called up the stairs: "Wendy… Dr. Lang's on the phone… He want's a word with you."
A muffled voice from somewhere up the stairs answered: "I'm in the bath mum… Can I call him back in a bit?"
"She's in the bath doctor… She say's can she call you back…," asked her mother and passing on the message.
There was a pause.
"I'm a bit busy Mrs. Bartlett and I'm due out in a moment… Perhaps you can help instead?" suggested Dr. Lang.
"Go ahead doctor," replied Mrs. Bartlett.
"It's just that I'm trying to organise my schedule for the day... I've got it down here to see your daughter sometime today… But I haven't got a time written down… I was wondering if four o'clock would be all right,…" explained the doctor.
"Well Doctor, we've no plans to go out anywhere… Wendy's staying here with me today… so I guess four o'clock will be fine… The only problem is, we've got no transport... My husband's got the car and won't be back until six o'clock… We'll have to try and organise a taxi I suppose," she explained.
"Oh don't worry about that Mrs. Bartlett," interrupted the doctor. "I was planning to come to you anyway. I was thinking that if the weather wasn't too bad Wendy and I could sit out on one of the benches overlooking the cliffs to have our little chat. A nice relaxing atmosphere can sometimes be very beneficial."
"Well that sounds fine Dr. Lang. I don't see any problems with that then. I'll tell Wendy to expect you at four o'clock then shall I?" said Wendy's mother.
"Fine, I'll be there at four o'clock then Mrs. Bartlett,.. bye…" said Dr. Lang signing off.
Mrs. Bartlett put down the phone and called upstairs: "Wendy!… Dr. Lang's coming to see you this afternoon…. He'll be here at four o'clock."
Wendy was still in the bath. She listened to what her mother had to say. She decided that once she was up and dressed it was best to inform Georgina. In all the excitement she had forgotten all about her appointment with Dr. Lang.

 9:30 am

This time the phone rang at the home of the Watkinson's.
Georgina picked up the receiver and answered: "Hello, Georgina Watkinson speaking."
"Hello Georgina, it's me Davina," came the reply.
"Hello Davina, how did you get on?" she asked.
"Everything went just fine Georgina… I've got a fresh receipt to show we stayed at the Coach and Horses for five nights… And we've got the landlady eating out of our hands… Just let anybody try and prove that we were someplace else… They won't get very far… We've got a cast iron alibi," explained Davina.
Georgina was delighted and she had some good news to tell too. "Our part went quite well too Davina," she told her. "We deposited Malcolm Smith in a chamber below the old castle last night, and now it's just a matter of waiting until we can all get together."
"Fantastic!" exclaimed Davina. "Well I reckon we'll be back in Littlesea by about four o'clock. We left very early this morning and we're at a motorway services right now… we've just had a bite to eat and about to set off again."
Georgina thought for a moment. Four o'clock seemed a bit early. It would still be daylight then. But all the same, she did not want to hold things up. The only problem was, there may be prying eyes around to see them unloading the motorcycle from the back of Davina's car.
"Davina, have you still got the motorcycle in the back of your car?" she asked.
"Yes Georgina," confirmed Davina. "It's still there and covered with blankets. Why? What do you want us to do with it?"
"I think it would be best if you leave it parked in Littlesea," said Georgina thoughtfully. Then she had a better idea. "No, I tell you what Davina!.. Unload it someplace amongst the sand dunes on the coastal road to Castle Point… It will make it look like he got that far and walked the last mile up the hill."
"Yes, that sounds great Georgina, we'll do that then," responded Davina to the idea. "We'll leave it in one of those small parking places amongst the dunes then carry on up the hill and hopefully meet up you there."
"See you about four o'clock then Davina, outside the old castle ruins… Wendy and myself will be there waiting," confirmed Georgina.
"Four o'clock then Georgina, see you then.." said Davina and put down the phone.
Georgina put down her own phone and looked up Wendy's number in her small booklet. She would phone her straightaway and tell her what was happening.
Just then the phone rang again.
Georgina answered: "Hello Georgina Watkinson speaking."
"Hello Georgina, Wendy here," came the reply.
"I was just about to phone you Wendy," said Georgina.
"Listen Georgina, I don't know if this affects our plans at all, but I've got an appointment with Dr. Lang this afternoon. He's coming here to see me at four o'clock. He'll probably be here about an hour," explained Wendy.
Georgina bit her bottom lip at the news. It was not exactly perfect timing. She had just arranged to meet Davina and Tracy there at the same time, and unless they phoned again from another service area, then there was no way of contacting them. She thought for a moment. Perhaps the problem was not as bad as it seemed. She just needed to be there first to intercept Davina and Tracy and stop them going directly to the old castle. Perhaps they could all go to Tracy's bungalow until Wendy's session with the doctor was all over. It was probably best to wait until it got dark anyway. She concluded that she could foresee no difficulties by doing things this way.
"That's fine Wendy," Georgina answered eventually. "When you've finished with the doctor look out for my car. It will either be parked outside Tracy's or in the castle car park. Hopefully Davina and Tracy will also be back by then and we can get started on Malcolm Smith."
"Okay Georgina, as soon as the doctor's gone I'll come out and find you... And I'll bring a sharp knife with me," said Wendy.
Georgina smiled. Wendy was determined to get at Malcolm Smith's balls before the rest of them.
"That's fine Wendy, we'll be waiting. And we'll leave it to you to bring a sharp knife along," confirmed Georgina.
"Bye then Georgina, see you tonight," said Wendy and put down the phone.
Georgina did the same.
Seated by the side of the telephone she considered her best option. In the end she decided it best to visit the old castle a little before everyone else arrived, possibly about half past three. She would then have time to pay a quick visit to the chamber beforehand to check that everything was still okay down below.

11:00 am

Inspector Hawkins paced the floor of an office at Muddlebridge Police Station. He and PC Grantford had stopped in a hotel overnight. For the past two hours he had attended several meetings. The last had just broken up and now it was time to return to Littlesea. He was on his own and waiting for PC Grantford to arrive and take him back to Littlesea. He sat down at a desk, stubbed out a cigarette and re-lit another one. He was a very perplexed and frustrated man.
Malcolm Smith had flown the nest possibly only moments before he had arrived. He had wondered if he had been tipped off, but could not see how. His mother was the only person who knew where they were going, and she had been taken into custody. But all the same, the way that everything had been strewn about the place, and with all the doors open, it did look like the youth had bid a hasty retreat. The only possible explanation was the presence of the police car parked on the edge of the village green. The back-up team had been waiting there for something like three-quarters of an hour and it was possible that he had seen them. But like Sergeant Bell had said, the police had been present in the area for the past few days looking for Jennifer Stansfield, so why should one more car parked up there make any difference? The Inspector guessed that the true reason would probably remain a mystery until such times as the youth was back behind bars.
The Inspector's mind returned to concentrate on the re-capturing of Malcolm Smith. In particular: Where had he got to? And what was he doing right now? From the evidence found in the dungeon, and the poor medical condition of the three girls, it was obvious that the youth had no intentions of stopping. As a result Malcolm Smith had become a very wanted man, and every Police Force in the country had been put on full alert for both him and his motorcycle. Also for the first time they had a decent picture of the suspect to circulate. It had been taken from the drawing found at Cuckoo Cottage, and everyone concerned had been informed that this was a very good likeness of the person they were seeking in connection with their enquiries.
The Inspector was in desperate need of help. The three girls found in the dungeon were in no fit state to be interviewed as yet, though the identity of Jennifer Stansfield had been confirmed. As for the other two victims, apart from establishing their names and discovering that they were both abducted in Lancashire, he had very little else to go on. What he needed was someone to talk to who would know the mind of a psychopathic serial abductor. There was only one man that came immediately to mind. He picked up a phone on the desk and dialled a private number he had been given.
"Hello, Doctor Gabriel Lang speaking," came the reply after several rings.
"Hello Dr. Lang, Inspector Hawkins here," he replied. "I was wondering, could you find time to pop into my office sometime later today, possibly this evening? I want to show you a few things, and pick your brains a little. Our Malcolm Smith's been at it again and I want a few clues as to what he might be up to next."
"This evening!" exclaimed Dr. Lang. "I'm sorry Inspector, but I don't think I can. I've got hospital rounds at half past five, and a Governor's meeting after that. Will tomorrow morning do? I can probably re-schedule that."
The Inspector looked to the clock on the wall. It was about a five hour drive back to Littlesea. He could be back there by four o'clock.
"How about making it a little earlier? I can be back in Littlesea by four o'clock," said the Inspector suggesting an earlier time.
"Sorry Inspector, But I've got an appointment with Wendy Bartlett at Castle Point at that time. But I could possibly fit you in between say three and four," said Dr. Lang and offering an alternative suggestion.
The Inspector looked to the clock once more and then to the tall figure of PC Grantford stood outside the office and waiting. His lift back to Littlesea had arrived.
"Tell you what Dr. Lang," said the Inspector, "Can I meet you out on Castle point just before you visit Wendy Bartlett?… Say three-thirty… I reckon I could be there by that time… I just need to pick your brains a little bit, and I've got some pieces of evidence to put to you."
"Yes, I can be there for that time Inspector… No problem," confirmed the doctor.
"Good, see you at three-thirty at Castle Point then Dr. Lang," replied Inspector Hawkins and put down the phone.
Quickly he collected up a bulging folder and a pile of documents and drawings from off the desk and headed for the door.
"Grantford?" he said on stepping into the outer office. "You've got four and a half hours in which to get me back to Littlesea. You have my permission to put the blue light on all the way if need be."

1:00 pm

Malcolm Smith had lain awake for hours. His head throbbed, he was in total darkness and he could not move. He feared the worst. Someone had struck him unconscious and bound his hands and feet. They had also stuck a ball-gag in his mouth and covered his eyes with a blindfold. He wondered exactly who it was that had abducted him? He concluded that whoever it was, it had to be an accomplice of one of the girls held in the dungeon. He dismissed Vicky's partner, he was away on holiday anyway. But it could have been either Brian Bensen come looking for Katie, or on the other hand, it could also quite easily have been Richard Davies, whom he knew to be Tracy Goodyear's boyfriend and Katie's ex-lover. But there were other alternatives too. The list seemed endless. He had made enemies of a lot of people. It could have been the husband of Davina Townsend instead; or even friends and relatives of Jennifer Stansfield come looking for her? But whoever it might turn out to be, he guessed that he was soon to find out.
Malcolm had been dumped on his stomach with his face on the ground. He wondered exactly what sort of surface it was. Feeling with his cheek it felt like a damp clay or soil. He wondered if he was outside in the open, but that did not make sense. There was no wind and the air around him reeked of something stale and rotten. He kicked his feet. His legs had been tied together all the way from ankles to thighs, but they had not been tied to his hands. As the toes of his boots returned to the ground he could hear a decisive echo suggesting that he was in a large room or chamber.
He wriggled some more. Perhaps he could work his bonds loose. But after a few minutes struggle he gave up. The ropes were too tight and he was not achieving a thing except wasting energy. He placed his head back down on the floor only to find that his shift in position had brought his face in contact with a small rock. At the same time his blindfold moved a little. He stroked his temple against the rock once more and the blindfold edged a little further upwards. He tried again and the blindfold shifted a little bit more. Eventually, after some two dozen attempts he eased the elastic to the top of his head. But something was still not right. He could feel the coldness of the air against his eyes, but he still could not see. The room was in total darkness.
With much effort he rolled over onto his back and tried to focus his eyes on anything at all. Eventually he did locate something. There was a bit of light coming from one corner of the room. It appeared to be a dimly lit rectangle of light, possibly a doorway or opening. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and tried to focus on the faint source of light. Slowly his eyes were becoming adjusted to the blackness and he reckoned he could see steps within the rectangle. They appeared to lead upwards from the opening, and what little bit of light he could see was filtering down from the top of the steps.
Malcolm shuffled his way round so that his back faced the source of the light. He then drew up his legs and pushed with his feet. Slowly his backside slid across the damp surface. He drew up his legs once more and pushed again. Bit by bit he was making slow progress towards the opening. After about his sixth shuffle he stopped and groped the ground. An object had made slight contact with his bound hands behind his back. It was small and square. He shuffled it up to hold between two fingers and gave a little shake. The sound was unmistakable. He had come across a box of matches, and by the sound of the rattle there were about half a dozen matches inside.
Immediately a thought came to him. If he could strike a match, then maybe he could burn through the ropes. But he did not hold out much hope. The dampness of the room suggested that they might not work at all. However, he gave it a try. Working his fingers he attempted to open the box, but somehow he could just not get the right purchase necessary to slide the inside open. Then suddenly the box slipped from his grasp and he tried to gather it up once more. But in the darkness and the tight confines of the ropes he could not locate where the box had gone. Giving the matches up for lost he returned to his original plan and resumed his shuffle towards the steps.
Eventually Malcolm made it to the bottom of the steps, and he sat there for quite some while looking backwards and upwards towards the dim light at the top. He could now make out a lot more detail. For one thing the walls were build of stone blocks and looked very old. They were also very damp and dripping with water. He wondered if he had been dumped in the cellar of some old building? Or even a castle maybe? But exactly where? He could not even hazard a guess. If he was still in the East Midlands, then his geography was so poor he could not even think of a castle or building in that area.
After possibly half an hour of lying there he decided to move on. By shuffling on his backside exactly as he had been doing, he reckon that by taking one step at a time he could continue all the way to the top. He adjusted his position so that his rear made contact with the bottom step, he then folded up his legs and pushed with all his strength. Slowly his body rose and he found himself sitting on the bottom step. He looked over his shoulder once more and tried to estimate the number of steps. It was a daunting task. There had to be over fifty on this flight alone, and what lay beyond that he dreaded to think.
However, he would give it a try.
After all, what had he got to lose?

2:00 pm

Malcolm arrived at the top step and lay there completely out of breath. He was exhausted. The climb alone must have taken him well over an hour. But now he was in sight of an opening. He had about another ten to twelve yards to go and he would be at a gate. He could see a grill there barring his way.
After about ten minutes rest he set off again. The ground here was more irregular and there was even a little bit of grass growing along the walls of the passage as he approached the gate. On arrival he shuffled round to peer out through the bars. With a shoulder he pushed at the gate, but nothing moved. The gate was actually being held by handcuffs locked around two of the bars. He wondered who had put them there? On the ground the other side he could see a padlock and chain. It seemed like the chain had been sawn through with a hacksaw, for he could see bits of broken blade lying on the ground at the foot of the gate. In fact there was one particularly large piece straddling the ground directly beneath the gate. A small portion of which was poking through to the inside.
Malcolm turned his body around so that his back rested against the bars and tried to ease his fingers through the small gap beneath the gate. Groping around he located the broken piece of blade and eased it slowly towards him. Bit by bit the blade inched his way forward until it came entirely within his grasp. Through the corners of his ball filled mouth he breathed a sigh of relief. He now had something to work with, and more importantly fresh hope. If he could just cut through the rope about his wrists, then he would be free to tackle the handcuffs on the gate.

3:00 pm

The final strand of rope snapped and Malcolm released the fragment of hacksaw blade from his fingers. Quickly he began to uncoil the windings from around his arms. With the rope gone he massaged his wrists back to life and set about untying his legs. Eventually he stood up and removed the blindfold from off the top of his head and the ball-gag from his mouth. He dropped them to the ground and took a deep breath through an unobstructed mouth. He was free at last.
Holding on to two of the bars he looked out into the daylight beyond. Standing up had given him a much better view of things, and what he saw gave him a big surprise. There were seagulls in the air, and if he cocked an ear he could make out the sounds of waves crashing against rocks. But more importantly, he could see low walls that were once part of a crumbling old castle, and a small car park lying directly ahead. He recognised the place immediately. He had been here before on several occasions. He was at the old castle out at Castle Point, and somebody had taken a lot of bother to bring him all the way back to Littlesea.
Malcolm turned his attention to the handcuffs that sealed the gate, then felt within his pocket. His key-ring had not been taken from him. On the ring was a key that fitted handcuffs and he wondered if it would work on these. He had been lucky once before in the hospital and prayed that it would do it again. However, these handcuffs looked a lot different from those used in the dungeon to Cuckoo Cottage.
He tested the small key in the lock and cursed. Nothing moved. The key would not even turn in the lock. He tried again on the second lock only to find the same stubborn response. The key just did not fit. He returned the key-ring to his pocket and sat down by the gate. He needed to think.
His problem was, he did not know who it was that had abducted him. But at least the field had been narrowed down a little. In the end he settled for Katie's ex-lover Richard Davies. If he was out of hospital now, then he would have ganged up with his new girlfriend Tracy Goodyear, and set out to find him. That also made a little bit of sense. They would have gone directly to Lancashire in search of Katie Brown in the hope that she would know something. And that's how they must have found him, either at the club or Vicky's abode. It had to be one or the other. After that they would have followed him all the way back to Cuckoo Cottage. He recalled the car behind him as he approached Muddleton Morton. He realised now that he should have taken more care, and also reckoned on there being more than two women in the car the next morning. But that was all water under the bridge now. What was needed was a fresh plan of action.
One thing was for certain, he could not wait by the gate and call for help. They would only fetch the police and he did not want that. What he had to do was be ready for his abductors when they arrived, and that would best be done down below where it was dark. He decided to return to the chamber below and investigate. If he could just locate that box of matches then maybe he could have a good look around for any weapons. He already knew that there were rocks on the floor which might help, and he now had rope to tie people up with. Quickly he gathered up the rope, ball-gag and blindfold from off the ground and set off down the steep and crumbling steps.
Back in the chamber he placed the bondage items just around the corner from the bottom step. He then stooped down and preceded to crawl along the floor in the darkness. Swinging his arms from side to side in a sweeping motion he edged his way slowly towards the centre of the chamber. Eventually his hand touched the matchbox and he gathered it in.
Malcolm struck a match. It was a bit damp, but after three or four goes it burst into flame. He stood up and held out the match at arms length. Now he could tell that he was in a big chamber with an exceedingly high roof. There was scaffolding in one corner, but not a lot else in the room. The match was burning out now and his vision dropped to the floor beneath his feet. As the flame died, he smiled. The last thing he had seen before the match went out was the small stub of an almost burned out candle. Quickly he struck another match and knelt down. He located the candle and held the match to it. It lit with a small flickering flame at first, but as the wax melted the flame grew stronger and the walls of chamber illuminated about him.
Malcolm got up, and holding the small candle in one hand, moved across the chamber to the scaffolding in the corner. He was looking for something to use as a weapon. Perhaps there was a small piece of piping lying around somewhere. Arriving at the scaffolding he stooped down low and peered down the long low passageway. There did not appear to be any loose piping lying around anywhere. He wondered where the tunnel might lead. He had once seen plans of the catacombs below the castle. They had been in Mr. McTavish's folder on his desk. He wondered if this was the long lost passage that led to them. If it was there was a way out onto the cliffs. But he also recalled how dangerous the place was. There was the constant threat of rock falls, and if you survived those, there were still many dead end passages in which to get lost.
Malcolm stood up and returned to the centre of the chamber. Escaping via the catacombs was not his preferred option. Fighting his way out seemed to give him a better chance. He looked about the chamber. A decent rock would do and they were scattered all about the floor. He looked to see if there was anything else he could use but could come up with nothing more substantial than a large elongated stone that could be handled like a club. However there was evidence of drug taking and he wondered if a needle could be effective as a weapon of attack. Scattered about the floor he could see used hypodermic needles everywhere. There were also bits of tin foil and plenty of spent matches scattered around. There was also one or two more candles lying about. Most of them were nearly burnt out like the one in his hand. But he did come across one candle that looked like it still had a bit of life in it, so he put it in his pocket along with the box of matches.
Malcolm returned to the foot of the steps and considered his best options. If he stood just behind the wall here, then he could club the first person to enter on the head. Surprise would be on his side. But then anyone following would be still on the steps and could turn and run. Perhaps it was best to wait until they were all in the room. But exactly how many was he expecting? He was at a loss as to exactly what to do for the best.
Perhaps if he was near to the top when they arrived, then he could stoop down low behind the top step and peer along the last bit of passage to the gate. Maybe when they were in the process of removing the handcuffs he could count the bodies and see exactly who he was dealing with.
Malcolm ascended the steps to find out if his theory was practicable. As he neared the top he suddenly froze and dropped down low. There was movement at the gate casting flickering shadows on the passage walls. He crept up the last few steps to look out over the top. To his amazement the figure at the gate was the last person in the world he suspected. It was that snooping policewoman again. The one he had clubbed in the yard behind the main building to the Amusement Park, and the one he had later questioned on the rack. So it was her all along was it? He watched what she was doing. She appeared to be on her own and she was removing the handcuffs from the gate. She also had a torch in her hands which was evidence that she was coming down to see him. If that was the case, then he would be ready. He had a score to settle with her.
Malcolm eased back a step to disappear from sight. There was no point waiting at the bottom he could grab a leg from here and pull her down the steps. He was sure he could win if he took her by surprise.
However that plan was short lived. Suddenly he heard a man's voice and he crawled back up to investigate. The handcuffs had gone from the gate, but it still remained closed. Stood on the other side he could see the policewoman talking to a man he did not recognise. She had the chain and padlock in her hands and was trying to explain something to him. Malcolm looked on as the policewoman dropped the chain to the ground and walked away from the opening along with the man.
Suddenly Malcolm saw his chance of escape. He waited a little while longer for the sound of voices to disappear. He could tell by the diminishing sound that they were walking away. Quickly he rose from behind the top step and moved to the gate. He looked out into the daylight beyond. There were two vehicles in the car park now. He guessed one belonged to the policewoman the other to the man. He wondered if one of them had left their keys in the ignition. It was just a short spurt to the vehicles, and then he could be on his way.
He placed his hands on the gate, took a deep breath and got ready to run.

3:30 pm

Georgina headed straight for the small car park adjoining the old castle. Her dashboard clock told her the time was exactly three-thirty in the afternoon. She pulled up facing the gate that sealed the way to the chamber below and switched off the ignition. There was no evidence of tampering and her handcuffs still sealed the gate. She had half an hour to spare before anyone arrived. That was time enough to check on their prisoner and return to the car park. She then had to be on the lookout for Davina's car. Somehow she had to divert her towards Tracy's house. It might even be best to return to the sand dunes at the bottom of the hill, but that decision could wait until after she had checked on Malcolm Smith.
With torch in hand she walked to the gate and set about removing the handcuffs. Just as the last bracelet clicked open she froze. The rumble of tyres could be heard coming across the car park. She looked back to see an old Land Rover pull up alongside her own car. With torch and handcuffs in her hands she waited to see who it was. There was nowhere to hide and she was stood right in the driver's sight. A man stepped out of the Land Rover and started to yawn and stretch. Immediately she recognised the person. It was Dr. Gabriel Lang come to see Wendy, and he was half an hour early.
Georgina tried to stay calm. She had a bit of a plan.
"Good afternoon Dr. Lang," she called across to the man stood by the Land Rover and dressed in overalls and wellington boots.
"Georgina!" he exclaimed on recognising the woman stood at the gate. "What are you doing here?"
Georgina thought quickly. Dr. Lang was coming her way now. She bent down and collected the chain and padlock from off the ground by her feet.
"Hello Dr. Lang, nice to see you again. Are you here to see Wendy?" she asked.
The doctor nodded his head. "Yes I am Georgina," he told her. "I'm looking for a bench with a nice view where we can sit and have our little chat."
"There's quite a few around here doctor," replied Georgina, "Especially those in front of the castle and overlooking the cliffs. You should try one of those."
"I think I will Georgina," replied the doctor, then showing a little concern he added: "And what's one of my patients doing out here on her own?"
Georgina swallowed hard before giving her reply. The tale she had to tell was basically a re-enactment of the truth.
"I was waiting for Davina and Tracy to return," she explained. "They called me this morning to say that they'd be back this afternoon, so I came up to welcome them home. Then whilst I was sat in my car over there I noticed the gate had been tampered with. Look someone's cut through the chain with a hacksaw. Anyway, I thought I'd check to see if there was anybody down there first, then reseal the gate with my handcuffs. This place is highly dangerous and the public should be protected, shouldn't they Dr. Lang?"
The doctor smiled. "Highly commendable Georgina," replied the doctor. "Always a policewoman, and with the care of the community uppermost in your mind. But don't you think you're overdoing it a bit Georgina? After all I did prescribe a complete rest from duty, didn't I?"
Georgina smiled too. There was a little bit of truth in what the doctor was saying. But that was not uppermost in her mind at that exact point in time. What she wanted to do was distract the doctor away from the gate. If she showed too much interest, and the police were later to discover that Malcolm Smith had been held prisoner in the chamber below, then some awkward questions might be asked. Perhaps if they walked around the castle walls to investigate those benches, then everything would seem casual and prevent any grounds for suspicion at a later date.
Georgina dropped the chain and padlock to the ground. "You're right doctor," she responded. "Perhaps I'll just report the incident, and get someone from the 'Castle Trust' to come out here and fix it. I know,… shall we just go and find a nice bench to sit on instead?"
The doctor chuckled. "Why not Georgina? Let's have a walk around the castle and see what we can find," he said.
They set off together following the path that circled the old castle walls. They had gone some twenty paces when they heard another car approaching. Georgina looked around to see her own patrol car driven by her colleague PC Grantford approaching. The blue light on top was flashing and the car came to a rather screeching halt.

3:40 pm

The Inspector was about ten minutes late for his appointment with Dr. Lang. There had been several hold-ups on the motorway.
PC Grantford had driven furiously all the way from Muddlebridge without a stop. As they entered the old castle car park he could see the doctor's old Land Rover parked up waiting. The car next to it he also recognised. It belonged to WPC Watkinson. He had seen it many times before in the police car park, and also at her home when she went missing at Christmas time.
PC Grantford pulled up rapidly alongside the Land Rover and killed the ignition. The Inspector looked around for Dr. Lang. Immediately in front of the car stood a gateway into the ruins of the old castle. As they halted somebody had just pushed the gate open, taken a few paces forward and then frozen in his tracks at the sight of the police car. In that fleeting instance the Inspector recognised the person clad in a black leather outfit.
He leapt out of the car and yelled: "Quick Grantford… that's our man… get him."
PC Grantford jumped out and charged towards the youth.
Malcolm Smith turned to set off along the castle wall. But there were two other people there blocking his way. Suddenly he was tackled by the police officer and he managed to kick him away. Quickly Malcolm spun round and darted back through the gate. Slamming the gate behind him he rushed down the steps on the other side.
The Inspector collided with the closing gate and PC Grantford crashed into the back of him. Georgina and Dr. Lang appeared on the scene to find the two officers lying on the ground beside the gate. They helped them to their feet.
PC Grantford brushed the dirt from his uniform and addressed Georgina who had helped him to his feet: "There's no way out of there is there Georgina?"
He personally had never been the other side of the gate. But he was aware that his patrol partner had. She had talked extensively about her experience of visiting the catacombs when in search of Wendy Bartlett, and had knowledge of what lay beyond.
Inspector Hawkins knocked the dirt from his overcoat and knees. "What's down there then Watkinson?" he asked.
Georgina had known immediately that the game was up. It was now completely out of her hands and a matter for the police. She told him everything she knew about the chamber below and the catacombs beyond.
"There's a chamber at the bottom of a long flight of steps sir," she explained. "After that there's a small passageway in the corner that leads down to the catacombs. But other than emerging from one of two caves about halfway up the cliffs, there's no other route out except this one."
"Can he make his way to a cave?" asked the Inspector.
"Possibly, but I doubt it very much sir," said Georgina giving her honest opinion. "You'd need a detailed plan to find your way around down there. There's miles and miles of tunnels. And if he did emerge a cave he'd only find himself stuck on a ledge. All the old pathways down crumbled into the sea many years ago."
The Inspector saw the torch in Georgina's hand.
"Were you intending to go down there Watkinson?" he asked.
Dr. Lang stepped in to protect his patient from too much stress. He picked up the chain and padlock from off the ground. "Georgina found the gate had been vandalised just as I was arriving," he told the Inspector. "She was going to have a quick look down there and then temporarily seal the gate with her own handcuffs, but I'm afraid I talked her out of it. She's still under a little bit of stress and I advised her against it. And I guess it was a good job too, seeing we now know who was down there."
 "You were right to stop her going down doctor… Well done… She's still on sick leave and should be resting…" responded the Inspector.
"I was only doing my duty Inspector, as was Georgina to the public," replied Dr. Lang.
Georgina felt embarrassed at the praise but said nothing.
The Inspector held out a hand to Georgina. "Can I have your torch please Watkinson?" he asked, then turning to PC Grantford he added: "And Grantford, go to the car and call for some backup, get them to bring torches, and then get your own and bring it back with you. We're both going down."
A few minutes later Grantford returned with a torch in his hand.
"Backup's on its way sir," he announced. "They should be here within ten minutes."
"Good, let's go then," said the Inspector opening up the gate.
He then turned to Georgina and Dr. Lang and addressed them jointly: "I'm sorry, but can I ask you both to do something for me? Can you seal the gate behind us with the handcuffs and then stand guard at the entrance until the others arrive. They won't be long. Then explain what's happened, and get two more officers to follow us down. Oh, and also get somebody at the foot of the cliffs. Just in case he pokes his head out of a cave somewhere."
"Yes sir," replied Georgina.
"And I'm game!" added Dr. Lang. "We all seem to be doing our duty today."

3:45 pm.

Malcolm hit the bottom of the steep stone steps and went flying across the floor of the chamber. Quickly he picked himself up onto hands and knees, and in the darkness scuttled across the floor in the general direction of the scaffolding in the corner. Still in total darkness a groping hand located a pipe and he entered the low passageway beneath. The crawl was long and the scaffolding remained his guide for all of that distance. But eventually it came to and end and the passageway seemed to widen out. He found that there was room to stand upright and he removed the candle and box of matches from his pocket. Striking a match he lit the candle. He closed up the matchbox and returned it to his pocket. He told himself to be careful from now on, there were only two matches remaining in the box. In the flickering light he looked around. The passageway now had plenty of headroom and carried on for another twenty yards or more. After that it looked like there were the start of some steps leading down what was probably a spiralling staircase.
In flickering candlelight he moved on along the passage to the top of the steps. His one and only hope now was to find his way to the mouth of a cave that overlooked the cliffs. If only he could remember those plans he had once seen in Mr. McTavish's folder, then he could find his way out of here.
Malcolm descended the long winding staircase. A lot of the steps were crumbling and some had disappeared completely. The descent was slow and dangerous. At the bottom he discovered a long passageway crossing from left to right. There was a slight slope to the ground and he elected to go left and downhill. He reckoned that he had to drop a lot lower than this to reach the level of the caves.
After about two hundred yards of almost straight and gradually descending tunnel he came across a passageway leading off to the right. He elected to carry on along the main tunnel and see where it led. Some twenty to thirty yards later he came across a second passageway also leading off to the right. This seemed to be the pattern from now on. However he chose once again to carry straight on and see where this main tunnel led.
The passageway now started to bend slowly to the right so he could not see very far ahead. As he rounded the bend he came quickly to a halt. Ahead a rock fall was blocking his path. However, the rubble only came to about three-quarters of the way up the walls. It was still possible to clamber up and over it. Malcolm held his candle high to see if he could see what was beyond. It looked like the rubble continued to pile upwards towards the roof as the passage moved on. Perhaps there was a small gap there, but he doubted whether he could climb through. Just then a cool draft of wind blew from over the top of the rubble. Suddenly the flame of his candle flickered and went out.
Malcolm hastily drew out the matchbox from his pocket and attempted to strike another match. It sparked once and snapped in half. It fell to the ground. He removed his last match and had another go. It sparked and spluttered but did not ignite. He tried again and again but the last match just would not burst into flame. He dropped to his knees and in the darkness groped the ground in search of the broken match. But he could not find it.
Then suddenly he heard voices. There were people in the tunnel coming after him. He was in trouble. If they came this way then he was trapped, and climbing over the rubble looked to be a non-starter. So what was he to do? He thought quickly. Just a little further back there were a couple of tunnels leading off to the side. If he could return to the first one and go down it a little way, then maybe he could hide and wait for them to go past. He could then come back out and return the way he came. He decided to give it a try.
Groping his way along the wall, Malcolm found the side tunnel and moved on into it. He kept on going. There were signs of torches flashing against the walls of the main corridor now, so he knew his pursuers to be close. Suddenly in the darkness he came across an alcove. Grovelling about he found there to be a few bricks at the bottom and some stacked in the tunnel alongside. He clambered over the bricks into the alcove and squatted down low.
He would hide here and see what happens.

3:50 pm.

Davina and Tracy pulled into the dunes and parked up her blue Japanese estate car. They had come back a little earlier than predicted. But by the time they had deposited the motorcycle they reckoned that they would probably arrive at the old castle dead on time.
The two girls got out of the car and walked around to the rear. Davina opened up the tailgate and threw back the blanket. A bit of oil and petrol had leaked onto the blanket below, but nothing seemed too disastrous. The car would survive after a good cleaning out. Together they heaved the motorcycle from out of the back and wheeled it away to hide behind a dune. A small suitcase remained strapped to the back, and afterwards Tracy elected to take the helmet to the seat.
Whilst Tracy deposited the helmet, Davina put the rear seats of the car back up and tidied up the blankets and luggage. At least things looked a little respectable in the back now.
"That should do it Tracy. Now let's get out of here," said Davina and closing down the tailgate.
The two girls got back in the car and Davina started up the engine. Then just as they were about to pull away they heard the sound of approaching sirens. Davina remained in the dunes and waited for two speeding police cars to go hurtling past.
Tracy looked to Davina. "What do you think has happened?" she asked.
Davina shrugged her shoulders. Whatever it was, she did not like it one little bit.
"We'd better go and find out," she replied.

3:53 pm.

Wendy Bartlett was preparing herself for the visit of Dr. Lang when she heard the sound of sirens screaming up the hill. She looked out of the living room window to see two police cars racing past her home. She quickly grabbed a coat and went outside to take a look. She arrived at the bottom of her garden to find another car approaching. She recognised the car and stood by the gate waiting. It slowed down and stopped in front of her. A window wound down.
"What's happening Wendy?" asked Davina through the open window.
Wendy shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know Davina… I just heard the noise and came out… But they've gone into the castle car park," she said.
"Jump into the back Wendy," said Davina. "We may as well all find out together."
They arrived at the car park only to be held back by a policeman who had only just leapt out of one of the patrol cars.
"Sorry ladies, can you keep well back. It could be dangerous," said the officer.
 "What's happening?" asked Davina. She could see Georgina's car there along with a Land Rover and three police cars.
"Sorry, but I can't tell you," replied the officer.
Just then Georgina appeared on the scene. She had seen the girl's arrive and after passing on the Inspector's instructions had made a hasty retreat across the car park.
"It's okay Ken," she told her fellow officer. "They're all friends of mine. I'll stay here and guard the entrance if you like... Hawkins wants a couple of you at the foot of the cliffs just in case he sticks his head out from one of the caves."
The officer looked relieved. He knew Georgina well and gratefully accepted her offer. Being part of the action was much more fun than standing guard over a car park entrance.
"Thanks Georgina. I'll get someone to go down with me," he replied. "I know the pathway down. I went up and down it often enough when we looking for that missing girl."
Georgina gave a little smile. "Be careful Ken," she called as the officer raced away to collect a colleague from besides the gate.
When all was clear Georgina began to explain to the three girls seated in the car what had happened. At least all of them were together and could hear the bad news all at the same time.
"I'm sorry girls, but our prisoner's got away," she apologised sadly. "He must have managed to undo the ropes somehow and was hiding at the top of the steps when I arrived. I'd just unlocked the gate when I was then waylaid by Dr. Lang. So I led him away, and that was when the Inspector arrived. He spotted Malcolm Smith in the gateway and chased him back inside. They're now down there looking for him, and by the time it's taking I would think he's made his way into the catacombs. If he has, then it's going to take one hell of an operation to flush him out."
For a while there was a complete silence whilst the girls inside the car absorbed the devastating news.
"What about you Georgina?" asked a very worried Davina. "How much does the Inspector know?"
"I'm not sure," replied Georgina, "but speaking to Dr. Lang just before the backup's arrived I found out that the Inspector was here just by chance. He had arranged to meet the doctor here for a little brain picking session, so it may be that he doesn't know anything about us at all."
"So what do we do now?" asked Davina.
"We just sit tight and keep our finger's crossed I guess," replied Georgina. "And hope that he never finds out."

3:50 pm

Inspector Hawkins stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees. He had just negotiated a long crawl along a low passageway supported by scaffolding. He shone his torch around. PC Grantford was just emerging from the tunnel to stand by his side. Together they aimed their powerful beams down the passage.
"He must have gone down those steps. There's no other place he could have gone," said the Inspector.
He shone his torch to the floor beneath his feet. He spotted something and bent down to pick it up. It was a spent match and if anything it was still a bit warm. This was all the proof he needed. Malcolm Smith had entered the catacombs.
"Come on, follow me Grantford," said the Inspector and set off quickly for the steps.
The spiralling staircase seemed to go on for ever. At several points some steps had crumbled away and the going was not easy. But eventually the bottom was reached and the Inspector shone his torch around. They had reached a stoned-blocked tunnel that went off in two directions. If anything the passageway sloped from right to left. Inspector Hawkins considered the alternatives. They could either split up and go in opposite directions, or take one of the passages. He decided it best that they both stick together. Natural instincts told him to go downwards. If the youth was attempting to make the cave entrance, then that would be the direction he would take.
"Right this way Grantford," announced the Inspector and set off to the left.
After just a few paces the Inspector stopped and held the beam of his torch to the ground. He bent down and scraped his finger through a dropping of candle wax. It had congealed but still had a little warmth about it.
"Right, he's gone this way," confirmed the Inspector standing up and rubbing the remains of the wax between thumb and forefinger.
After about two hundred yards the main passageway carried on, but another one branched off to the right. The Inspector stopped and shone his torch around the walls. Further on down the main tunnel he could see yet another opening to the right. It looked like from here onwards they were going to be confronted with a lot of alternatives. He shone his torch down the passageway that branched off next to him. After going straight for a short distance it then curved away to the left.
The Inspector was not sure what to do next. If they carried straight on and Malcolm Smith was hiding up in one of the side tunnels, then he could emerge from behind them and head off in the direction they had just come. But at least now they had him trapped.
 "Grantford, wait here for a bit. I'm just going down this side passage a short way to see if it leads anywhere," said the Inspector. "If Smith should appear whilst I'm away then yell."
The Inspector set off. As he reached the bend the beam of his torch began to pick up alcoves in the walls. There were piles of bricks lying around whilst others could be seen partially sealing the openings. There were also chains and manacles attached to rings against the back walls in one or two of the alcoves.
The Inspector moved on. The passageway still curved on to the left. At one point there were timbers shoring up the roof and a great pile of bricks blocking his progress. He clambered over the bricks and stumbled. He threw out a hand and caught a wooden prop to save his fall. As he did so debris and small rocks fell upon his head, and he choked on the dust. He knew this to be a dangerous place and elected to be more careful in his progress.
He moved on. He would go a little further and then turn back. After another twenty paces or so the tunnel straightened up again and he looked ahead. Suddenly he stopped. There was a light directly ahead of him in the tunnel. He had reached a T-junction and a beam from a torch was moving about from somewhere to the left. The Inspector relaxed. He could now see what had happened. He was in a tunnel shaped like a horseshoe and he had returned to main passage.
He moved on cautiously avoiding any wooden props and making contact with the walls. There was no point turning back anyway, he would only have to negotiate that awkward pile of bricks again. There were more alcoves along here. They seemed to carry on right to the end. Some were still bricked to about halfway up, whilst others had been removed almost to the ground. As the Inspector passed the last alcove and approached the T-junction he thought he heard a sound behind him. In that instance he swung around and his beam landed upon a leather clad figure stooped low in an alcove.
Malcolm Smith sprung forward from his hideaway and flatten the Inspector to the ground. The torch flew away across the tunnel, smashed against a wall and went out. In the darkness Inspector Hawkins tried to grapple with the writhing body that had landed on top of him, but the smoothness of the leather slipped from his grasp.
The sudden impact had knocked most of the breath out of the Inspector and he slowly rose to his feet. Malcolm Smith had fled down the horseshoe tunnel. If PC Grantford remained at his post, then they had him trapped. Quickly he staggered back to the main passage. Grantford was still there, his torch flashing about the walls.
"Stay there Grantford, we've got him trapped," he called.
Just then he heard a great cracking of timber coming from within the horseshoe tunnel. Suddenly there was great rumble followed by a deafening noise. The Inspector dived out of the way as great clouds of dust and debris flew out from the tunnel. Looking up for Grantford he could see him moving sharpishly out of the way too as more dust flew out of the second entrance.
As the rumbling abated the Inspector called down the main tunnel: "Are you all right Grantford?"
Through the dust filled tunnel he heard a reply: "Yes sir, I'm okay."
The Inspector, still choking on the dust, staggered his way towards Grantford. The constable was just picking himself up and retrieving his torch when he arrived. Luckily the light was still working.
"What happened sir?" asked PC Grantford.
"I don't know, but Smith was in there, and he must done something to cause the roof to cave in," he explained.
The Inspector took the torch from the constable and shone it down the dust filled horseshoe passage. The tunnel floor was littered with fallen rocks and debris. He moved forward over them to the point where the first large rocks appeared and he could progress no further. Stood in the settling dust he directed the beam around the bend of the tunnel. A little further on there was one particularly large boulder blocking the way completely. He shone the beam up and down and suddenly stopped at an object on the ground. Sticking out from beneath the rock he thought that he could see a hand.

End of Chapter Eighteen