Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(44)
Jackman nodded. ‘Maybe, but if Marie is right and this house was used by wreckers for hiding their illegal haul, then the entrances would be concealed. We do need old plans.’
Rosie squatted down on her haunches, ‘Maybe Fred Flintstone in there has some, if he’s been doing all this work.’
Somehow Jackman did not think that Micah Lee would have the plans. Benedict Broome would be the one to contact for those. But, before they went down that route, there was another way. Jackman took out his phone and keyed in Max’s number. It took only seconds to relay what they needed, and then he shut his phone and looked at Marie. ‘He’s sourcing them now, and if he finds anything useful, he’ll ring back and Gary will drive out with them. If Max hits a brick wall, we’ll go to Broome for help. Although I’m sure Max’s IT skills will access everything we need in less time than it would take to get Benedict Broome to open his front door.’
Marie straightened up. ‘I think we should see how the others are doing. These wards are holding no secrets. Shall we go find the sergeant?’
*
‘Anything so far?’
The sergeant in charge shook his head. ‘Nothing substantial, sir. Some of the rooms have been used recently, but it’s probably just Micah Lee staying over. He seems pretty attached to this place, considering he doesn’t own it. And he’s obviously working his fingers to the bone.’ He passed a broad-knuckled hand over his shaven head. ‘But regarding the search, there are no signs of anyone having been held here at any time, but this is a big area to cover. We’ve hardly scratched the surface yet.’
‘Well, the ward block at the back is clear, so you can tick that off your list. Oh, and I’ve requested any architects’ plans on the original building and any old maps, just in case there may be rooms or cellars that were sealed up in later years,’ Jackman added.
‘Good idea. For all we know, this place could be a rabbit warren of underground tunnels.’
Marie started. ‘What made you say that, Sergeant?’
‘Well, it may have nothing to do with it, but see that stretch of marsh over there?’ He pointed across the fields to a broad stretch of wetland. ‘It used to be called Chapel Marsh. They reckon that back in historical times there was an old Abbey out there, the coastline being different back then. Anyway, the sea took it when they flooded this part of the land, and all that was left was a tiny chapel, and that got used by smugglers right up until the time of the Second World War, when that got washed away too.’
Marie’s eyes lit up. ‘I’ve heard of that. But you mentioned tunnels?’
‘Yes, apparently the smugglers used a system of tunnels to bring their contraband inland. Of course a lot of them could have caved in or collapsed with the high tides and the bad weather, but they say that one or two were really well constructed. The locals, and my old grandmother is one of them, reckon they still exist somewhere around here, maybe underneath the Roman Creek sea-bank. You’ve probably noticed it’s a very unusual piece of higher ground, so tunnels could be possible. Just sit in one of the local pubs and you’ll hear a load of old wives’ tales about them.’
Marie felt a tingle of excitement. ‘Did any of these tunnels connect with the house here?’
The sergeant raised his shoulders. ‘No idea, Sergeant Evans. They may not even exist. It might all be just superstition and folklore. You never can tell, can you?’
Marie grinned. ‘Oh, they exist. I’ll stake my new Suzuki on it. Thank you, Sergeant.’ She turned to Jackman. ‘So, what next?’
‘I suggest we let these guys here continue and get back to base and see what Max has dug up. This search will take until the light goes, so we’d be better off doing a different kind of groundwork, using a computer instead of a shovel.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The CID room resembled a Second World War chart room. Max had pushed several tables together, and they were covered in neat piles of maps, diagrams and plans.
‘Oh my! Who’s been a busy boy, then?’ Rosie laughed.
Marie glanced at him. Had Max blushed?
Max pushed his rolled-up sleeves further up his arms. ‘I was just getting ready to pack Gary off to meet you. We’ve managed to get our hands on quite a lot of useful stuff.’
‘I can see,’ said Jackman. He clapped a hand on Max’s shoulder. ‘Well done! We knew we could count on your computer skills.’
The young cockney looked proud. ‘Thank you, sir. I’ve found maps, plans, deeds, building permission applications, geophysical surveys and related data, and even aerial cartographical views of Windrush and the surrounding landscape.’
‘We’ve tried to arrange them chronologically,’ said Gary. ‘Oldest at the top, and working down to present day. These are particularly interesting.’ Gary held up a batch of geophysical printouts. ‘They were taken a few years back when an archaeological dig was planned for the Roman Bank, but they couldn’t get permission to bring in the diggers. They show the ground right up to and including the edge of the Windrush estate.’
Marie stared at the papers. ‘I’m not sure what I’m looking at.’
‘They are high resolution images that show subsoil structures or traces of human activity.’
Gary seemed to know his stuff. Marie was impressed.