THE NEW CARETAKER: Part Three
by Nosbert
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - Secret Passage
The same day… Thursday 20th April… The story continues…
11:45 am
All three cars arrived together. Dr. Lang and Jim Spencer in one car;
Inspector Hawkins, accompanied by PC Grantford and WPC Watkinson in another;
and Davina Townsend in the third. All cars came to a grinding halt in the
car park alongside the castle ruins. Of the three cars, Davina’s seemed
to be the one in the most hurry.
Dust was still flying when Davina jumped out and ran across the car
park to confront Dr. Lang.
“You got my message then doctor?” she panted as he stepped out of the
car.
The doctor looked bemused. He had come straight from the offices of
the Littlesea Gazette and not spoken to his secretary since nine o’clock
that morning.
“No, what message?” he asked.
Davina was a bit shocked to hear that her message had not got through.
She told her tale hurriedly.
“Tracy’s gone missing… earlier she went knocking on Clive Carter’s
door to see if he was in, and she never returned,” she explained to the
doctor.
Dr. Lang became very concerned.
“Are you sure she’s gone missing?” he enquired.
Davina’s head nodded.
“Yes,… definitely… Chloe phoned me,” she explained.
The doctor became even more concerned. He could see that Chloe was
in danger too.
“Where’s Chloe now?” he asked.
Davina pointed down the slope to the cottages below.
“Down at Tracy’s house,” she told him. “I told her to stay there until
I came.”
The doctor considered the situation and thought what best to advise.
At least Chloe was safe. If she had done what she was told and stopped
at Tracy’s then she would be out of harms way.
“Then go and check that she’s still there… then both of you keep out
of the way… stick with her, and stay indoors… she’s in great danger,” he
informed her.
Davina did as she was told and hurried off down the cliff top path.
In the meantime the three members of the local constabulary had moved
across the car park to join the doctor and the reporter. They were wondering
what all the panic was about.
With the five that remained stood in a huddle in the centre of the
car park, the doctor explained his reason for calling them. He directed
his conversation towards the Inspector.
“I’m glad you could make it Inspector,” he told him, “I would like
you to follow me… in fact I’d like you all to come down to the dunes with
me… it seems we’ve now got three girls missing… but I think I know where
they can be found… and I know who’s responsible.”
The three members of the police force looked to one another, but no
one was given time to respond. Dr. Lang had already set off down the road
with Jim Spencer in his wake.
The doctor had a torch in his hand. He held it up high for those behind
to see.
“Oh, and I suggest you bring a torch with you,” he called over his
shoulder.
Inspector Hawkins looked to his two junior officers.
“I guess we’d better go with him,” he said, “otherwise we might be
missing something here… and Grantford,… best get the torches out of the
car and do as he says.”
They set off, trailing but a few paces behind. PC Grantford, with a
torch in each hand caught them up very quickly.
At the crest of the hill, where the road dropped steeply down to the
dunes, the doctor called a halt.
“Just wait here please,” he told them, “I need to get my bearings.”
The doctor set off, following the tall hedgerow that was the boundary
between Clive Carter’s cottage and the top of the hill. At approximately
the same point as he had stood the day before, he stopped and looked down
the hill towards the dunes. He smiled. Luck was with him. A campervan was
parked deep in the dunes.
The doctor returned quickly to the road.
“Right follow me,” he told them and set off down the steep hill before
anyone could object or ask the reason why.
Inspector Hawkins was not a great walker and was rapidly out of breath.
He even extinguished his cigarette before it was fully burned. But the
downhill slope to the dunes helped greatly and he managed to keep up with
the rest. At the bottom the road levelled out and followed the curvature
of the beach.
The Inspector, panting heavily, wondered just how much further they
had to go. Actually it was not very far. They followed the coast road until
they came to a parking area. There was a gap in the dunes and a flat area
beyond big enough for about two dozen cars. This was an official Littlesea
Town Council parking site for day trippers to the beach. Granite chippings
had been laid, and rubbish bins provided, though they all overflowed and
looked like they had not been emptied in weeks. There were also warning
signs, their messages erased by spray cans, so nobody knew what they said:
But presumably they would be advising the public against something dangerous,
possibly tides or quick sands.
The Inspector recognised the parking area behind the dunes. He recalled
that he had visited this very spot some three months earlier. This was
where Malcolm Smith’s motorbike was found after they had brought his body
back to the surface.
At this point Dr. Lang took up the role of ‘Pathfinder’; and whilst
the others stood and watched with amazement at his antics, he spent his
time stooping low and walking around the perimeter of the parking area.
He was particularly interested in the gaps in the dunes that would take
him further inland.
In the far corner the doctor found fresh tyre tracks. He beckoned the
others across to join him.
“This way please,… I’d like you to follow me,” he told them and pointing
between a gap in the dunes.
With the doctor in the lead they followed in single file now. The route
was twisting and undulated, but mainly it followed the contours of the
dunes. Luckily it had not been raining, or a strong wind blowing, and the
tyre tracks remained visible wherever there was loose sand.
The Inspector was the most worried. At times the journey was really
tough going. At one point he even considered sending Constable Grantford
back for the patrol car so that they could drive the rest of the way. He
was about to call it a day and take a rest regardless, when the little
scouting party rounded a towering grass-topped dune. Immediately the doctor
called a halt. For a while everyone stood and stared in amazement; for
tucked away neatly behind the dune was a vehicle. It was a campervan painted
in greens and oranges. There was also writing on the sides which appeared
to be religious in content, but the Inspector was far too much out of breath
to give them more than a passing glance.
The Inspector stooped low with hands on knees and trying to catch his
breath as the rest of the party examined the vehicle.
As soon as he was fit enough to breathe, he asked: “Well doctor, are
you going to let me into your little secret now?… I haven’t come all this
way to see a broken down vehicle have I?”
The doctor gave a little wry smile and shook his head. He could see
that the Inspector was unfit and struggling.
“Let you into the secret?… No, not just yet Inspector,… we’ve got a
bit more walking to do I’m afraid,” he apologised sadly, then added, “as
for this campervan, consider this a piece of evidence… call it ‘Exhibit
A’.”
The Inspector puffed loudly and shook his head. He got out a cigarette,
went to light it, then put it away. It was at times like these he wished
he had never taken up smoking.
“Which way then?” puffed the Inspector and resigned to the fact that
he had more walking to do.
Dr. Lang looked about him. He was not quite sure. The tyre tracks had
come to an end, now he was looking for footprints. Then he spotted something.
”Ah!… this way I think,” he replied and pointing between two more dunes.
Once again the little party set off. The doctor first, followed by
Jim Spencer and then PC Grantford. The rear was brought up by Georgina
and the Inspector. She had taken it upon herself to stick with her panting
senior officer and help him out whenever difficulties arose; which, as
it happened, was quite often.
The general line they were taking was back in the direction they had
just come. The granite outcrop that was Castle Point loomed above them.
High above their heads could be seen the hedgerow and the chimneys of the
first cottage.
As the ground began to rise the terrain became more rocky. First there
were small boulders scattered liberally, then much bigger specimens appeared,
and finally menacing sheer cliff faces blocked their way and had to be
circumnavigated with utmost caution. There was also the gorse bushes. They
prickled and scratched at the flesh and snagged at the clothing whenever
contact was made.
Up ahead the doctor waited for the little party to catch up with him.
He was stood by a rocky outcrop. Looking back down the slope he could see
Georgina giving the Inspector a helping hand over a boulder. He waited
until they had all assembled, then pointed to the rock. There were scrape
marks along it.
“Exhibit B,” he told the Inspector. “I think you’ll find scaffolding
pipes and planks of wood were dragged along here at one time. This rock
may prove useful when gathering evidence later.”
The Inspector looked at the scrape marks and shook his head in despair.
Is this what he had brought him all this way to see? And how on earth could
he take a boulder that size into court? He wanted to castigate the doctor,
but was too exhausted to say anything.
The doctor looked down to the ground, then up to the top of the
hill. They were very close to the hedgerow now. In fact only a stone’s
throw away. He wonder if the trail would take them as far as Clive Carter’s
property? Then dismissed the idea. No, whatever he was looking for had
to be around here somewhere.
The rest of the climb looked steep and he thought it best to go it
alone. He would call them to him if he found something.
“Stay here whilst I go on ahead,” he told them, then moved off before
questions could be asked.
Up ahead, where soft ground existed, there remained visible signs of
fresh footprints in the sand. The doctor followed the trail. He had only
climbed a little way when he came face to face with a rocky outcrop. It
was almost vertical and overhung at the top. He stopped and looked to his
left and right, but could see no way out. There were gorse bushes blocking
the way. He thought it strange that the tracks that he had been following
should come to such an abrupt end, but end they did. There was also a great
mass of gorse bushes to contend with, so he could see no alternative but
return and seek another route to the top.
The doctor took a few steps back in order to gain a better view of
the rock face. He shook his head then looked down to the ground beneath
his feet. He could see footprints. The trouble was they were his own. The
trail had been so narrow he had no option but to walk over the previous
tracks.
He shook his head once more and took one final look at the rock face.
There was nothing there but gorse bushes and a sheer cliff face. He turned
to walk back down the slope when he heard a little bird twittering. Somehow
it caught his attention. Out of curiosity he turned towards the rock face
once more. He saw the bird just as it flew away. Then something else caught
his eye. The bird had been perched on top of a gorse bush. The bush was
low down and right next to the cliff face. What he was looking at were
more scrape marks in the rock in a position just above the bush.
Out of curiosity the doctor returned to examine the scrape marks more
closely. One in particular was very revealing. There was evidence that
perhaps the end of a scaffolding pipe had first struck the rock and then
been dragged down towards the gorse bush below.
The doctor moved closer and put his hands between the bush and the
wall of rock. He then pulled the bush forward. As he looked down behind
the bush his mouth dropped and his eyes opened wide.
“Well I never!” he exclaimed.
12:00 noon
As time ticked away Tracy became more lucid. She was now back in the
real world. Gone were the grassy banks and shimmering lakes. In their place
was a high arched roof and dozens of flickering candles. She tested her
bonds. They were real enough. Her hands had been lashed together with rope.
She could not see above her head, but something was hooked between her
wrists and pulling her arms taught. Down below, her legs had been stretched
apart to the extent of the raised deck on which she lay, and her ankles
had been buckled to the boards at the two corners. She was also completely
naked. All her clothes had been stripped away and she was feeling the chill.
This was a cold and draughty hall she was in.
Tracy squirmed and tested her anchorage points. There was very little
movement available. Her arms had been pulled tight above her head, but
not to the extent that she was uncomfortable or in pain. In fact the only
pain she felt came from the back of her head. She had been struck hard,
and by rolling her head against the boards she could feel the caked blood
that had knitted in her hair.
From the boards on which Tracy lay she followed the dancing shadows
of her abductor as he moved about the chamber. He did not seem to be doing
anything in particular other than light more candles. At one point however
he had taken time out to inspect the bodies of the two naked girls suspended
from the high vaulted ceiling. In a chuckling mood had sent them spinning
wildly on the end of the long chain. Their movement had settled now, but
the two girls, hanging lifeless and back to back from the same hook, still
twisted slowly backwards and forwards, and casting eerie dancing shadows
on the walls around this vast cavern.
Tracy had long since figured out who the two girls were. They were
Gayle Jackson and Sylvia Sparelli. She also now knew who their abductor
was. He had revealed himself to her, and the recognition had come as a
great shock. She was now very much afraid and scared rigid of what he might
do to her. She prayed that Chloe would have gone for help and people were
out there somewhere looking for her. Then she looked around the vast cavern
and gave up hope. There was no way they would find her here.
Her abductor returned to stand over her and glare menacingly down at
her defenceless body. There was anger in his eyes: They were red with rage.
He had been waiting for Tracy to gain consciousness enough to be aware
of her surroundings and be fully aware of the perils and dangers she now
faced. It was important she be wide awake. He wanted her to know just how
much he loathed her, and tell her about all the troubles and ills she had
inflicted on himself. He hated her for all that she had done to him. Looking
back at his short life, if it had not been for Tracy Goodyear, then he
would not have been where he was today and things would be totally different.
In fact all that had happened to him since that fateful day when Katie
Brown stepped into Alf’s Café and entered his life could all be
attributed to the presence of Tracy Goodyear. She was the bane of his existence.
The one person in this entire universe that he hated the most. He managed
a twisted smile from the corner of his mouth. Then he chuckled. Now it
was his turn. The time had come to seek revenge for all his ills. Retribution,
at long last, was at hand.
“Well, I see that you’re fully awake now!” he teased.
Tracy opened her eyes wide and stared up at his face.
“You’re meant to be dead,” she told him.
Her abductor shook his head and cackled that awful laugh of his.
“So everybody thinks,” he replied, “and that’s why there’s no hope
for you is there my dear little Miss Goodyear… nobody’s going to be out
looking for a dead man… are they?”
Tracy turned her head away.
“You’re mad,” she told him.
This was the trigger for her abductor to take action. He grabbed her
by the jaw and turned her head back to face him.
“Look at me when I’m speaking,” he told her. “I want you to know just
how much pain and misery you’ve caused.”
Tracy, with eyes wide open and fingers pressing hard against either
side of her mouth, looked upwards to her aggressor. She tried to speak
but her jaws were held rigid and would not move. The grip tightened further
and she was forced to open her mouth wide. Then a rag, or something similar
was stuffed inside and pushed to the back of her throat. Her tongue investigated
the intrusion. It felt like cotton and had an elastic edge to one side.
She realised that it was her own panties that had been forced into her
mouth. She attempted a protest and tried to push it away with her tongue,
but before she could do anything about it, a strip of tape became quickly
adhered across her lips.
“Mmmumph!” was all she utter.
Her abductor released his grip and chuckled.
“Now you are all ears and no talk,” he told her, “so now perhaps Miss
Goodyear you will have the courtesy to listen to what I have to say.”
Tracy stared upwards from the boards into her abductor’s face. Her
eyes were wide open in terror. She could see menace written all over his
face, and she wanted to scream out loud, but she could not even do that
now. She was gagged, bound and stretched out naked on a platform constructed
of uncomfortable bare boards. She was completely helpless, and totally
at his mercy.
Tracy’s whole life flashed before her. She reflected on the past. This
was the third time he had caught her. The first occasion had been from
her own home. He had used an industrial glue to sedate her whilst asleep,
then whisked her away and imprisoned her in a mock dungeon at a local amusement
park. On the second occasion he had crept upon her whilst parked at the
side of a country lane. This took place just outside a village in the East
Midlands called Muddleton Morton. After being captured he had taken her,
along with Davina, to a dungeon below Cuckoo Cottage. On both occasions
he had threatened her with brutality. She now lay in fear, and dreading
what evil things he might do to her this time.
12:15 pm
The doctor returned to the little party, then led everyone back up the
hill. Pretty soon they came to a rock face that blocked their path and
it was impossible to carry on any further. With everyone assembled he moved
to a clump of gorse bushes and thrust his arms into the thorns. Slowly
he parted the branches. He then pointed to a narrow gap in the rock. It
was just big enough for a man to crawl through.
“This I think you’ll find is the long lost secret entrance to the catacombs,”
he told them.
There was a look of astonishment on all four faces. The way the entrance
was concealed it was not surprising that it had not been discovered before.
The Inspector stepped forward and peered into the opening whilst the
doctor held the bushes apart.
“What are you saying then?” he asked. “Are the missing girls imprisoned
in here somewhere?”
The doctor nodded his head.
“I believe that to be the case,” he told the Inspector.
The Inspector held out a hand.
“The torch please,” he called to PC Grantford.
The tall lanky policeman stepped forward and handed the Inspector one
of the torches. He took it and shone it into the entrance.
“It looks like it opens out as soon as you get through the gap,” he
told the doctor.
Dr. Lang had already done a little bit of investigation when he first
discovered the entrance and knew it to be true. The hole did open out significantly
once inside.
“It’s big enough to stand up in once inside,” he explained.
The Inspector looked back at his officers. This was police work from
now on and it was his turn to take command.
“Grantford, you come with me… Watkinson, you stay here and guard the
entrance… if anyone comes out, arrest them,” he said and giving his orders.
WPC Watkinson checked that she had her truncheon and handcuffs handy,
then nodded her head.
“Yes sir,” she replied.
PC Grantford joined the Inspector.
“Right, I’ll go first, you follow,” the Inspector told the officer.
“I’m coming too,” said Dr. Lang. “There are people inside there that
need my help.”
The Inspector agreed.
“Right, but keep behind and let us do any arresting,” he told the doctor.
The doctor agreed. If there was to be a struggle then it would be best
handled by the police.
“Okay, I’ll stay behind you and out of the way,” he agreed.
Jim Spencer had listened to the conversation and felt a little aggrieved.
He wanted to be part of the action too. This was a huge story that would
make the national headlines and he wanted to be there when it happened.
He had a camera with him and wanted to be around when the arrest was made.
“I’m coming too,” he told the Inspector.
The Inspector shook his head.
“No you’re not… this could be very dangerous and not for members of
the public,” he insisted. He then turned to WPC Watkinson and ordered:
“Make sure he stays here with you… that’s an order.”
“Yes sir,” she replied and stepped between Jim Spencer and the rest
of the party.
Happy with the arrangements, the Inspector took one last look around
then stooped down in readiness to pass through the entrance.
“Right, follow me,” he ordered, then slipped though the opening into
the cavern beyond.
As the feet disappeared PC Grantford bent down and followed the Inspector
through the gap. As the second set of feet disappeared the doctor gave
one final nod and wink to Georgina, then he too disappeared from sight.
As the gorse bushes closed ranks Georgina stepped up to guard the entrance.
She had been given her orders. There was no way Jim Spencer was going to
pass.
12:30 pm
Tracy looked up in horror. Her abductor was holding a knife in his hand.
It was one of those sharp industrial cutting knives with a sliding retractable
blade. He touched the tip of her nose with the point and sunk it into her
skin.
As a thin trickle of blood ran down into a nostril he spoke to Tracy.
“Right my little Miss Tracy Goodyear, I want you to listen to my every
word, otherwise I’m going to slice you up into little pieces and feed you
to the seagulls,” he threatened.
Tracy went cross-eyed looking at the knife, then stared back into her
assailant’s face. She answered with her eyes, it was all she could do,
and hoped that he got the message. She was willing to co-operate and listen
to what he had to say.
The face she was staring at smiled. Then the knife that threatened
her moved away from her nose. For a moment she thought that she was safe,
but the knife returned quickly, this time to prick the skin alongside the
aureole to a nipple.
“Pay attention or this nipple goes first,” she was told.
Now that her head was free to move she nodded it up and down. She wanted
him to understand clearly that she was only too willing to co-operate.
He smiled again.
“Good,” he answered as he saw Tracy’s reactions. “Now remember what
I just said… this beautiful cherry-red nipple of yours goes the moment
you stop listening.”
Tracy raised up her head slightly and peered out from the bottom of
her eyes. She could see the top of her breasts. The blade of the knife
was slicing into the skin and a small trickle of blood was forming. As
she looked on he moved the blade round in a semi-circular motion and slicing
the skin further. Tracy was horrified, but thankfully the cut was not deep.
So far no real damage had been done.
Once more she nodded her head vigorously in response. She was only
too willing to co-operate.
Her abductor saw her willingness and chuckled to himself. He was now
ready to begin.
“Do you remember Katie Brown?” he asked for starters.
Tracy remembered her well, she had fought with her once over her boyfriend
Richard Davies. She nodded her head. Yes she did remember Katie Brown and
only too vividly. The ginger-headed fireball had put Richard in hospital
after kicking him in the balls.
On seeing the nod of the head, he continued.
“Well Miss Goodyear it was you that stole her boyfriend from her, and
she hated you for it… In fact she despised you so much she came to me for
help… naturally I did everything in my power to make her happy, but until
she’d reeked revenge on you, I was helpless… I just had to do something,”
he said.
Tracy wondered what this was all about. It was true that she had taken
Richard Davies away from Katie Brown, but it was not her fault. They never
got on well together anyway. Tracy also saw the irony of it all. Richard
Davies was a man, and she loathed men. Chloe was her one true love now,
not Richard Davies or anyone else. She wanted to tell him so. She wanted
to explain, but the gag in her mouth prevented her from doing so.
He continued on with his tale.
“I was forced into kidnapping you… my Katie demanded it… she promised
me that she would love me for ever and a day if I did so… so I went after
you… and then it all went wrong… I got the wrong person… I captured Wendy
Bartlett by mistake and everything started to go wrong after that,” he
explained.
Tracy shook her head in despair. None of this was her fault. So why
should she get the blame?
Her abductor moved on. He was pouring his heart out to her now.
“Then that Davina Townsend got in my way,… and that snooping policewoman
Georgina Watkinson came nosing around too… I had no choice… I had to silence
them in some way… but I still hadn’t got you… and my Katie was returning
to see me… I got desperate and found out where you really lived… I came
for you whilst you were asleep and took you back to the place where I worked…
and then… and then…”
Tracy looked up. He was sobbing. She did not think he had told this
tale to anyone before, and it was hurting; hurting really badly.
He wiped away a tear and continued on with his tale.
“And then… and then… she sent me a letter saying she wasn’t coming
back… she’d been offered a new job and was staying up north where she was
born.”
Tracy recalled the first time she was captured. He had her stretched
out on the rack that day. Then luckily she had been saved by the police.
She hoped and prayed that it would happen again, but doubted it. This was
a completely new situation and no one knew of her whereabouts. She shut
her eyes and turned her head away. Her abductor’s tale of woe was getting
too much for her to take.
Suddenly she felt the knife jab into the side of her breast. She knew
that it had dug in deep and she squealed despite the tape across her mouth.
“I told you to keep paying attention,” she heard a threatening voice
say.
Quickly she turned her head back to face him and opened her eyes. She
nodded her head in rapid movements to show that she was still listening.
On seeing Tracy’s new found willingness, he continued with his tale
of woe.
Or at least he started to.
“And then the police came….”
And that was about as far as he got. Suddenly there could be heard
footsteps and voices echoing about the cavern, and the darting beams of
powerful torches flashing about the walls and ceiling.
“There he is… get him,” a voice called from the blackness beyond the
range of the candles.
Tracy’s abductor swung round to meet his assailant. He was just in
time to see a tall dark figure in a police uniform leaping towards him.
He side-stepped and instinctively held out his knife. The sharp cutting
edge sliced across the chest and beneath the arm, then the knife flew from
his grasp.
The blade caught the flesh of the police officer beneath the uniform
and blood began to flow. At the same time the officer fell to the ground
and struck his head against a scaffolding pipe beneath the bench. For a
moment he was stunned and could not move. It was enough for the abductor
to make a break for it.
Quickly he made a dash for the exit. There was another man in
the way. But his movements were slow and cumbersome, and with little effort
he pushed him out of the way.
Further back stood a third person blocking his route to safety. This
man had a powerful torch in his hand and was shining it in his eyes. They
came face to face, made contact, and for a moment grappled with each other.
But the youth had an advantage. His body was bare and he was only wearing
boxer shorts, so there was nothing to grab hold off. Somehow he managed
to squirm his way out of the hold and resume his flight to safety. He was
nearing the tunnel now. Just a quick dash and he would be out of here,
and no one would catch him after that. He knew the dunes like the back
of his hand.
12:45 pm
Georgina looked to her watch. They had been gone half an hour now. She
wondered what was happening inside. She had also relaxed her concentration
on Jim Spencer. He had his camera out and had approached the entrance to
the cave. He was stooping low and peering through the gorse bushes.
“What ‘you doing?” asked WPC Watkinson.
Jim Spencer pointed towards the gorse bushes.
“Do you think you could hold them apart, just enough so as I can get
a picture?” he asked.
Georgina thought for a moment, then reasoned that she could see no
reason why he should not be allowed to take a photograph. She obliged and
pulled back the branches of the nearest bush.
Jim Spencer stooped low and held up his camera. He was just a few feet
away from the entrance now. Then, without warning, he leapt for the hole.
This was his big chance to get inside, and he was about to take it. The
trouble was, what he did not know was that someone on the inside had exactly
the same idea, and was wanting to get out in a hurry.
Suddenly there was a clash of heads. As one leapt in the other leapt
out. To make matters worse the flashbulb in the camera went off right in
the eyes of both of them. Stunned and blinded the figure trying to get
out crawled over the body of the person trying to get in. There was chaos
and for a moment their bodies got wedged in the narrow gap.
From the outside Georgina saw what was happening and looked on in amazement
as the head of a youth appeared above the thrashing legs of the reporter.
Whoever it was, he was struggling hard to get out. But the body beneath
blocked the way and there was only enough room for one.
It was at this point Georgina recognised the person struggling to get
out. For a while she was too shocked to respond. The trouble was, this
was someone she thought to be dead.
“Malcolm Smith!” she uttered. “It can’t possibly be!”
Quickly she gathered her wits about her. She could see that he was
about to escape through the gap. He was wriggling like mad to get out.
She grabbed her truncheon and struck him hard on the side of the head.
She then yanked at the half emerged body and pulled him towards her. As
soon as the arms became free she locked them behind his back and slapped
the handcuffs on him.
From inside the cave a muffled voice called: “Georgina, he’s coming
out… grab him… don’t let him escape.”
It was Dr. Lang calling.
Georgina stooped low and shouted back.
“Don’t worry doctor… I’ve got him,” she called.
2:00 pm
Amidst all the flashing blue lights, a number of people had gathered
in the car park alongside the dunes. A patrol car had just taken Malcolm
Smith away and they were now looking on as stretcher bearers carrying two
badly beaten females were being loading into ambulances.
PC Grantford was already seated inside one of the ambulances. He was
clutching his side and being comforted by Georgina. As the first stretcher
was loaded, the rear doors were closed and the ambulance drove off.
Tracy was stood next to Dr. Lang. She had a blanket wrapped around
her and was holding a pad of gauze against her chest. There was blood on
the gauze, but the bleeding had stopped now. She was about to step into
the remaining ambulance and go with the second girl, but her injuries were
not that bad as to require a stretcher. She waved at the departing ambulance
then turned to the doctor.
“Thank you doctor,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it, but you
saved my life in there.”
The doctor stooped down and kissed her on the lips.
“Go on, get in the ambulance,” he told her. “There’ll be plenty of
time for praises afterwards.”
Tracy returned the kiss.
“I do mean it doctor, you saved my life,” she insisted.
The doctor simply smiled and patted her on the backside.
“Go on, get in, they’re waiting to go,” he told her.
Tracy stepped inside the ambulance and a paramedic shut the door.
Through the darkened rear window she waved, and then the ambulance
was on its way.
Inspector Hawkins was standing nearby. He approached the doctor.
“Can I see you at nine o’clock in my office tomorrow,” he asked.
Dr. Lang nodded his head.
“Yes, sure thing,” he said, then asked: “How about a lift back to the
hospital?… I’ve got work to do and our reporter friend has hightailed it
out of here… he said he had the biggest story of his life to report and
didn’t want to hang around here.”
Inspector Hawkins nodded his head.
“Yes, sure thing, there’s a patrol car over there,” he replied. “Jump
in and I’ll take you there myself.”
Dr. Lang smiled.
He wondered why everybody was being so nice to him
Perhaps it was something he had done?
* * *
End of Chapter Thirty-seven