Silent as the Grave (24 page)

All along I had thought this altruistic gesture incongruous. If their career of vice had been accurately reported down the centuries, such an act as building a chapel was totally out of character. Now I knew that their motive was a cynical disregard for anything holy. Instead of building a place to worship God, they had ordered the construction of the chapel merely to conceal this chamber; the cell where they could indulge in every perverted, sadistic, and degrading practice their evil, twisted minds could devise.

The light above us had to be the surround of the tomb of one of the twins. The tomb itself was a sham, merely a hollow container. No repentant sinner lay within. The tomb was merely an empty shell to house and conceal the entrance to their sordid lair.

These were all merely my assumptions. If they were correct, I would need to prolong my search a little. I would have to grope around in the dark until I found a way to reach the base of that tomb. There had to be a way, of that I was sure; or almost sure. If I could find it, then Eve and I stood a faint chance of survival. It was, I knew, a remote chance and the odds were still stacked heavily against us. But it was a chance and it represented one more chance than we had previously even dared to think of, or hope for.

‘I think I know where that is, Evie. I think we're under the old chapel. And that is the shape of one of the tombs.'

Chapter Twenty-one

Desperate situations call for desperate remedies, the saying goes. Our situation was about as desperate as I could imagine. I knew what the first part of the remedy had to be, and that alone appalled me. In order to find out how to reach the tomb entrance and get back to Eve as quickly as possible I would have to do something desperate. I would have to do the last thing I wanted to do, the one thing guaranteed to cause me the greatest possible pain. I would have to attempt to climb up that set of steps. Not content with the suffering that would cause, I would have to attempt to put weight on my injured leg.

Faced with this appalling option and knowing it to be the only choice open to me, I wasted no time thinking about it. If that sounds courageous, believe me, it wasn't. I knew if I started to dwell on the possible outcome of my proposed action my resolve would weaken. ‘I'm going to try and go up there,' I told her.

‘No, Adam, don't. Let me go.'

Ignoring Eve and my various aches and pains, I turned and felt along the wall and soon found a third stone, then a fourth. All were at right angles to the wall, jutting out about a foot from the wall itself. Each was at a different height and they seemed to run diagonally up the wall.

So great was my surge of elation at my discovery and the fresh hope it generated for our deliverance from this awful place that I ignored; or failed to grasp the significance of their position. It was only when thinking about it a few moments later that the location of the steps and the meaning to me in particularly dawned.

The wall was on my right-hand side; with the steps running up it from right to left. This meant the open void of the crypt would be on the left of anyone attempting to mount those steps. This also meant the climber would need to rely on his right leg more than his left leg. And it was my right leg that was causing me so much pain. Oh, bugger!

I took a deep breath and banished the thought of the pain and damage the climb would cause. At that point I think I would have happily sacrificed the leg itself in order to effect our escape. Well; perhaps not happily, but I reckon the sacrifice would have been worth it.

‘Right, I'm going up.'

Eve reached out and gripped my hand. ‘Be careful, Adam.'

As I turned away I noticed something significant. Although Eve had been cold earlier, her hand felt warm to the touch now. She had been as warm as I was; as warm as the air in the chamber itself. We were below ground level in a crypt that was unventilated apart from the minute gap round the tomb entrance. It defied logic that the crypt was getting warmer, but how else could we be gaining body heat instead of losing it?

The explanation was simple, terrible, and frightening. We were running short of oxygen. The clean air we had breathed in was replaced by the carbon dioxide we exhaled. The process had been going on for several hours. With no means for air to enter the chamber, we were using up the oxygen and when it was used up we would start to breathe carbon dioxide. Sooner or later we would suffocate for lack of oxygen in our lungs.

I knew the dangers of this happening would be enhanced and speeded up by increased activity, yet a higher level of activity was just what I had in mind. To some that might have seemed an impossible dilemma. To me, it was no contest; if we didn't get out we were going to die. The cause of death was immaterial.

‘Evie, these steps are very narrow and quite steep. If I can support my weight on your shoulder until I get out of reach that would make it easier.'

‘Don't worry, Adam, I won't let you down.'

‘Right, here goes then. Give me your hand so I can rest my weight on you when I put my right leg down. I need so see how much it will bear.'

‘Please be careful, Adam.'

I inched myself slowly to one side until my right shoulder was brushing against the wall and groped for the first step with my left foot. I found the stone slab and put my foot on it; talking through each move with Eve as I went along. ‘OK, I'm going to balance on you until I can find the next step. Then I'll put my right foot on it and we'll see if I can move up to the next level.'

That method didn't work. I should have realized the effort of swinging my full weight to bear on my right leg would be more than it would stand. If it hadn't been for Eve's support I would have fallen and I dreaded to think of the consequences to my leg had that happened. ‘I'm going to have to do it differently. My right leg won't do all I want it to so I'm going to have to try going up one step at a time. It will take longer but hopefully won't be as painful.'

It was much easier doing it that way. Not exactly pain free but just about bearable. I climbed until I had reached a point where I was no longer able to bear my weight on Eve's shoulder. ‘Hang on, Adam, I've had an idea,' she told me.

I waited for a few moments listening to the sound of her movement then she braced my back with her left hand. ‘I'll keep on the step behind you, and if you tell me when you're going to move I can use both hands to steady you.'

‘Evie, you're terrific,' I told her.

I'm quite honestly unsure whether I'd have made it without her help; not only steadying me but encouraging me.

‘We're there, Evie,' I exclaimed at last. ‘I'm on the last step. My head's almost touching the roof. Hang on tight, while I have a feel around.'

For the only time in my life I got something of an impression of what it would be like to have blindness cured. Admittedly the hairline strip surrounding the tomb entrance could hardly be said to provide much in the way of illumination, but to someone starved of the least vestige of light it was as water in a parched desert.

I began cautiously feeling with my left hand round the sides of the rectangular shape above me. I was soon convinced that my earlier surmise had been correct. The floor and walls of the crypt that had become our prison were of rough, undressed stone. Knowing the region I would guess that they were most probably limestone. The slab of stone contained within the rectangle of light however was smooth and cool to the touch. To me that meant one thing: marble, the stone which was only used by those with the means to afford it, and usually for headstones, effigies, or tombs.

William and Roland Rowe; the original sinners of the Rowe family, had been commemorated in marble. I was certain the space above my head was the tomb of one of the twins.

‘Evie, I want to try and check out what's overhead. Can you manage to hold onto me a minute or two longer?'

‘I'll try, Adam, but make it as quick as you can. My arms are starting to get very tired and my legs are beginning to shake.'

If there was a way to unlock the tomb entrance from below, and that was by no means certain, I reasoned it had to be along one of the edges of the lid. I felt my way cautiously with one hand along the short side nearest to me. I tried to put as little pressure on Eve as I could. I found nothing significant; nothing that would be of any use to help us effect our escape. I shuffled slightly and began work on one of the longer edges. Again the effort proved unsuccessful.

‘Adam, I can't hold you any longer,' there was a note of desperation in her voice.

‘OK; you lean against the wall. Let go of me, I'll try and manage on my own.'

‘I'm so sorry, Adam,' she said, tearfully.

‘Don't fret about it.' I reached carefully to my left for the farthest edge of the tomb lid and felt along. My finger end caught hold of something different, something I needed to check out carefully.

‘Adam, are you OK?' There was real concern in her voice. Not merely the concern she had shown before, when she'd nursed me in my room. This was the worry of someone who regarded me as special. Nothing could have spurred me to action more certainly than the desire to rescue Eve. If I failed in this attempt it would be too late. It would be too late for Eve – and too late for me. When daylight returned the next day we would already be far beyond escape; far beyond rescue. I knew that. I hoped that Eve didn't know it. I was also well aware that the rats knew it; or sensed it at least. They were already becoming bolder. Soon they would be gathering; their razor-sharp teeth at the ready; napkins tucked under their chin ready for their squarest meal in a century.

There appeared to be a horizontal bar of stone across the centre. The purpose of this puzzled me and as I couldn't think of a reason for it being there I concentrated on the far end of the rectangle. I could feel three claw-shaped objects; one at either side and one in the middle of the slab of stone. As my fingers groped around them I felt movement under my hand. My earlier impression had been correct.

I groped slowly along the edge. There seemed to be a long cylindrical rod running horizontally along the shorter edge of the tomb; held in place by the claws. The movement I'd sensed was only fractional as it was a very tight fit. What I'd found was in effect a primitive but highly efficient bolt.

Instinct told me that if I could dislodge the bolt it would leave the tomb lid free, and I would be able to slide it open. As I was pondering how to go about this I remembered the effigy of the ancient sinner that lay on top of each tomb. That led me to realize the purpose of the horizontal bar across the middle of the lid. It was an end stop; designed to prevent the lid from careering free of the sarcophagus. The weight of the marble was obviously too great for it to be stopped by any other means.

I struggled with the marble rod but try as I might with my fingers in varying positions, I couldn't get the bolt to move. I wondered how many others had tried over the centuries; tried and failed. My hopes that had been so high just moments ago began to wilt under this discouragement. Eve, bless her, came to the rescue. I reported the problem to her.

‘What about your knife, Adam? Have you tried with that?'

‘Of course not, it takes someone clever to think of that. I'll give it a go.'

My hopes rose again; bobbing up and down like a yo-yo on a string. No wonder the prisoners from bygone days had failed to escape. The Swiss army knife hadn't been invented in their day. Added to which they hadn't had Eve with them.

I opened the flat blade of the knife and groped for the rod. I felt for the far end and managed to get the blade behind the marble claw. To my delight I felt a fractional sideways movement; then another. I felt around with my finger and encountered the end of the cylinder.

I attacked the rod with renewed vigour and enthusiasm. Slowly, painfully slowly for my excited state of mind, I managed to work it sideways until I could get my fingertips behind it. Eventually, I got it all the way across the end of the tomb and pushed hard to free the rod from the last of the claws. It dropped clear and I seized the horizontal end stop and heaved with all my remaining strength.

The speed with which the stone slab moved surprised me. It was quite phenomenal to see so heavy a piece of masonry move so rapidly after one sharp push. It shot open; I heard a dull thud and then the slab was arrested by the end stop. It was only when I examined it later that I found it ran along a series of cylindrical pieces of marble that acted as rollers and accelerated the motion of the slab far beyond that of my body's strength.

The shock of the movement and the ensuing brightness almost dislodged me from my precarious perch. I tottered for a moment before grasping the edge of the tomb for support. As I struggled to maintain my balance I heard a cry of joy from behind me.

‘Come on, girl, get yourself up those last few steps as quickly as you can, but take care you don't fall.'

I heaved myself over the side of the mock tomb and watched Eve climb to safety and freedom. As she made her way up the steps I could see she was smiling; it was at that point I realized I had a big idiotic grin on my face.

I reached my hand down and helped her over the side. We stood there; hugging one another in sheer elation and relief. Eve was crying; and I don't mind admitting I was crying just as much.

I glanced round. Now our ordeal was over I saw we had been imprisoned under William Rowe's tomb. Freedom had been achieved, but almost immediately I began to suffer the consequences. The leg I had abused so violently during our period of captivity was beginning to seek its revenge. Nausea and pain swept over me in waves.

‘Adam, you've gone as white as a sheet. Come on, I'll help you, sit down here.'

She guided me to the nearest pew which happened to be next to the overhanging slab of the marble tomb. I lay back along the pew staring at the slab. ‘Go get Tony,' I said. ‘Get everybody you can find. If the police are here fetch them as well.'

‘I'm not leaving you; not after all you've done for me.'

‘You must do. I'll be all right.'

‘How will I get out of the chapel? The door's always kept locked.'

‘If you can't get out through the door smash a window; whatever you need to do.'

I heard her footsteps clicking loudly on the tiled floor and turned to watch her go. That was when I saw the blood. I sat bolt upright, staggered to my feet and hobbled to the rear of the tomb. Lying on the floor, his head smashed to a bloody pulp and surrounded by a rapidly widening pool of blood, was the body of Russell Rowe. I stared in amazement. Every theory about the events at Mulgrave Castle had just been shot to ribbons by the discovery of Russell's body.

Then, as I looked around, I began to realize why Russell had been killed; and by whom. ‘Evie,' I said; my voice low, ‘come back.'

‘The door's unlocked,' she said as she walked back towards me. When she saw the body, her scream was piercing enough to awaken the sleeping ancestors. She clung to me. ‘Adam, what's going on? Why Russell?'

‘I'll tell you later, just get out of here as fast as you can. Get back to the castle for help. Go now!'

‘Yes, but, will you be OK?' Eve gestured to the body.

‘Just do as I say. Oh, one more thing, whatever you do; please don't leave Harriet alone. Make sure you stay with her; don't let her out of your sight. I know it's unlikely, but she could just be still in danger.'