Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(48)
Rosie’s expression was eager. ‘It all follows, sir. Small things, I know, but they add up. You told us Toni Clarkson heard something like a chorister. Gary’s sister heard some kind of choral church music. And from these maps, and Gary’s description of where she was, they were right over one of the tunnels.’
‘And Micah Lee,’ Charlie Button whispered, ‘is definitely hiding something.’
‘Whatever, even if all this turns out to be a crock of shit,’ Max added, ‘There are underground rooms and tunnels beneath this dump, so our girl could be being hid in one of them. End of. Let’s search the place.’
Marie patted Max on the back. ‘Can’t argue with that, can we, sir?’
It made sense. A university expert had pointed to underground structures that could easily be used as places of concealment for an abducted girl. And Jackman was convinced that Emily was somewhere very close by. It was time to bite the bullet.
If I’ve got this wrong, the super will crucify me — publicly.
Jackman watched the preparations for the search and considered his position. He came to the conclusion that he was skating on thin ice.
Three o’clock came and went, and the search parties determined that four of the six tunnels were either collapsed or inaccessible. But Jackman still believed that they would find her down there.
*
The call came just before the purple evening shadows began to spread across the marsh.
‘We’ve found an entrance, sir!’ The policewoman was red-faced and sweating. ‘It’s the marsh tunnel, and it runs for about a quarter of a mile out into Hobs End.’
Jackman saw a flush of excitement darken Marie’s pale face.
‘Where is it?’ he asked.
‘There’s an old building there, sir, little more than lumps of concrete and partially collapsed walls. I suppose it was an old cottage that was abandoned because of the danger of flooding. It’s a little way above sea level, and there’s a hatch that leads into some kind of cellar, and then a door into the tunnel itself.’ She wiped her forearm across her brow. ‘We’ve been down as far as the door. It’s locked, so we’d like permission to break it down. We can’t just bust in without authority, can we, sir?’
‘In order to protect a life you can, and I believe that someone is in mortal danger. As soon as the rest of the team arrive, we’ll follow you, Constable. And we’ll go in.’
The marsh path was narrow and uneven. They ran, slipping and tripping, until they reached the derelict building.
As he paused to get his breath back, Jackman saw Marie looking thoughtfully at the moss-covered piles of masonry and ancient brickwork. He thought she was also sure they were in the right place. One by one they eased through the old hatch and found themselves in a tiny cellar. The stench of damp, mildew and rotting plant-life made them gag.
Unlike the cellar, the door to the tunnel was new.
Jackman stared at it. The wood looked strong, and the heavy-duty lock had fresh oil glistening around it.
A police constable stood waiting, a weighty metal enforcer under his muscled arm. ‘Sir?’ He looked at Jackman and swung the piece of equipment upwards in readiness.
This was it. Jackman’s heart raced. He looked around at his team and knew that they all felt the same.
Even Ted Watchman, gently cradling the precious thermal camera like a new-born baby, looked as though he had been wired to a socket and was waiting for the switch to be thrown.
It took half a dozen blows to shatter the lock. Then they moved forward.
Jackman began to run.
The light from their torches bounced off the walls and made intricate patterns on the roof of the tunnels. Jackman wondered where they were heading.
Ted puffed along beside him. ‘We must be getting close to Windrush house now, Inspector. According to the survey, the tunnel should be finishing soon.’
‘There’s a door up ahead, boss!’ called back Rosie, who had sprinted ahead. ‘We’re going to need that enforcer again.’
Jackman raised a hand. ‘Wait, all of you, and keep the voices down for a moment.’
They had no idea what they would find in there. For all they knew, their abductor could be waiting with a knife to Emily’s throat, or she could be sitting on a homemade bomb. Or it could be an empty room.
‘Okay, Ted, this is your moment,’ Jackman said grimly. ‘I need to know if there’s anything alive behind that door.’
He heard the young archaeologist exhale nervously, and move closer to the heavy wooden door. He carefully unfolded the camera’s display screen and pressed a series of buttons. The screen came alive, and he moved it from left to right.
The whole search team was holding their breaths.
Ted remained silent, angling the camera this way and that, and then he gave a little sigh. Jackman’s heart sank.
Then Ted whispered, ‘Yes. There’s a heat source. It’s faint, very faint, but it’s there.’
‘Just one?’
‘Just one, I’m certain of it.’ Ted stepped back. ‘Inspector, it seems to be a very big area in there. In fact, it’s massive.’
‘Constable! Break it down.’
They all stood back to give the big policeman room to swing the enforcer. Jackman felt sick with apprehension. It might be Emily. Or it might be a stray cat.