Deadlight-Hall(93)

‘The fire brigade’s on its way, but—’

‘That bloody roadblock. Yes, I know. I’m stuck in it at the moment – they’re letting single-file traffic through, but I’m in the big van so I might have trouble getting round. But the fire engine will find a way through, be sure of that.’

‘Yes,’ said Michael, who was not sure at all.

‘And we can get you out. What I’ll do, I’ll guide you down to the basement – there’s a garden door down there. It’ll be locked – in fact we’ve never opened it because we’ve never needed to and we haven’t got keys to it. But the top half is plain glass and if you can break that you should be able to climb through. Can you find a hammer or something? Those boys are sure to have left stuff lying around. I tell them time after time – “Tidy up as you go,” I tell them, but do they take any notice? Do they buggery, excuse my swearing, Dr Flint.’

‘Swear away,’ said Michael. ‘Hold on, I’ll see if there’s something I can use on the window. There’s a bit more light now – Nell’s parked so that her headlights are shining in.’ He walked into the main downstairs rooms. ‘Nothing yet,’ he said. ‘Paint brushes – they wouldn’t be heavy enough … Oh, wait, there’s a big old broom here. The handle should do it.’

‘Good enough. Back to the hall, and there’s a door set a bit back, near the stairs.’

‘I tried that a while ago,’ said Michael, ‘but it was as dark as the devil’s forehead, so I didn’t dare investigate. But if Nell can move the car a bit more … Wait a minute, I’ll tell her what we want.’

Nell was still at the window, and Michael explained, pointing towards the door.

‘That sounds fine,’ said Nell. ‘Once I’ve got the car’s lights lined up, I’ll try to make my way round to the back so I can help you climb out.’

‘Nell, it’ll be pitch dark!’

‘Michael, my love, did you think I’d drive out to a dark old house without a torch in the car?’ She brandished a large torch.

‘Well, all right. I’ll go down the steps,’ said Michael. ‘I don’t know if it’s straight down the rabbit hole, though, or whether it’s more a case of “Down, down, to hell, and say I sent thee thither”.’

‘No one but you would find an apt quotation at a moment like this.’

‘I don’t know about quotations, but I’m going to feel utterly ridiculous descending to hell clutching a broom.’

‘They’d probably let you sweep it out,’ said Nell. ‘Michael …’

‘Yes?’

‘Be careful.’

Before he could respond, she had gone back to the car. The engine fired, and Nell reversed and then drove the car back towards the house. Michael waved and indicated to her to move slightly to the left. This time the lights fell directly across the door.

He waved again, and sent a thumbs-up sign. ‘We’re all set,’ he said into the phone. ‘I’m about to plumb the depths.’

The door opened again, with only a small protesting creak, and a smell of damp and decay breathed out.

‘There’s a flight of stone steps inside,’ said Jack. ‘And at the bottom are several small rooms, with the furnace room at the far end.’

The furnace room, thought Michael. They fired the furnace that night to burn Esther Breadspear’s body.

He said, ‘Yes, I can see the steps.’

‘Go past the furnace room – you’ll recognize it because it’s got strips of iron over it and a round window. Then you should see the garden door. It leads to a small courtyard on the left of the house.’

The car headlights were doing a reasonable job of lighting the stone steps, and Michael, still clutching the broom, reached the foot without mishap.

‘So far so good,’ he said to Hurst. ‘Are you still hearing me?’

‘Yes, but you’re a bit crackly. Listen, if the signal goes – and you’re underground remember – all you’ve got to do is go along the passage as far as you can.’

‘All right.’

A thick smell of damp and decay hung everywhere, but Michael would rather grope his way through this bad-smelling darkness than remain trapped in the hall with the threat of fire.

At the foot of the stairs was a narrow passageway with brackets along the wall where gaslights might once have been. It was a dismal place; the stones were leprous-looking, and there were puddles of oily condensation on the ground. Thick cobwebs trailed from the ceiling; Michael tried to avoid them, but several times they brushed his face, and he shuddered and swiped them away.