In the now almost empty concert chamber, a few musicians and Bevan Jones and his team were clearing up. Davies approached Jones as workers stacked chairs and a technician dismantled the sound system. He placed his hand on Jones’s arm.
“We’ve got a situation and I need your help. Now. A person of interest in our investigation has fled into the tunnel and the crowd’s blocking the way. I have no idea what direction she went in and no idea where she’s going. Tell me where the tunnels lead to from here.”
Bevan straightened up. “If he turned right, he would have been headed toward the train stop and in that same area, the lake,” he said. “If he’d gone the other way, he’ll eventually come to a set of stairs that lead up to the next levels. And from there, he can make his way to the surface. He’ll come out near the staging area where we board the train, or there’s another way that leads to the surface and comes out a few hundred metres west.” He made long, loops with the cabling in his hand. “Of course, that’s assuming he knows where he’s going. If he’s just running blind through the tunnels, he’s got about twenty-five miles to get lost in and anyone who doesn’t know where they’re going can get lost down here very quickly.”
Davies groaned. “So she—and it’s a she, not a he—could possibly get lost down here and we’d never see her again?”
“It’s a mine, Inspector. Mines are dangerous places if you don’t know what you’re doing. And, hell, they can be dangerous places if you do know what you’re doing. So, yes, for sure she could get lost. Or if she ignores warnings and notices, she could find herself headed down a tunnel that’s due to be sealed off. The ground is rough and uneven and the lighting is dim, as you know. She could trip over something, fall, twist an ankle, or break a bone and be unable to move. A lot of nasty things could happen.”
Jones walked to the edge of the chamber and peered into the tunnel, looking both ways. “The crowd is almost gone. Give us a minute and the lads and I’ll spread out, have a look in both directions, and see what we can find. We’ve got the equipment and there’s nothing you can do to help, really. In fact, you’d probably only slow us down. We’ll give you one of our portable radios and contact you if we find anything. So if I might suggest, sir, the best thing you can do is let us take care of this and you wait to hear from us.”
“I’ll need to come with you,” Davies said. “This is a serious police matter. There’s no way I can leave this situation to you. The woman may be dangerous.” And, he added silently, she might have a hostage.
Davies turned to his sergeant. “You go back up. Get Karis’s vehicle registration and check the car park.” He then returned his attention to Bevan. “I need one of your men to bring Sergeant Morgan to the surface, as quickly as possible. And I want him to stay with her and do whatever she asks him to do, and then bring her back down here to me.”
“Who exactly are you after, Inspector?” Jones let out a low whistle when Davies told him.
* * *
In the tunnel, Karis grabbed Penny’s arm and jerked her out of the line of concertgoers making their way to the train and pulled her down a dark side passage. “What the hell are you playing at?” Penny shouted at her as she stumbled on the rough ground. “Let go of me. I just want to talk to you.” She tried to wrench her arm free, but Karis held her too tightly.
“Oh, really? You’ve been been asking a lot of nosy questions, I hear.”
Before Penny could reply, someone called out. “Karis, where are you? It’s me. Rebeccah.”
“Down here.”
Panting slightly and smiling, Rebeccah Roberts approached them.
“I thought I saw you go down here. What are you doing? This isn’t the way to the train. We’ve got to stick with the crowd.” Rebeccah looked from one to the other and sensing the alarm in Penny’s face, took a step back as her smile faded. “Karis? What’s going on?”
“Look, Karis,” said Penny, finally freeing her arm. “You know this isn’t going to work. Let’s just get on the train and go up above and talk. It isn’t worth it. Whatever happened, it’s over.” Aware that her tone sounded shrill and urgent, she tried to take it down to a calming timbre. “Doesn’t it just feel over, Karis? Hasn’t all this gone on too long?”
Karis grabbed her arm again and pulled her roughly further down the tunnel. Although Penny had spent very little time in the underground labyrinth, she sensed that she was being pulled deeper into the mine workings, away from the train that could take her to the surface. A set of stairs somewhere also led to the surface, but she was disoriented now in the semidarkness and had no idea where they were. After a few minutes of struggle as Karis pulled Penny by the arm while she tried to keep her footing, and Rebeccah trotted along beside them, they came to a small clearing, or open space, where a little pile of implements used in a demonstration of Victorian mining techniques was kept.
“Get the jumper,” Karis snapped at Rebeccah. “And the rope. Bring them over here.” A moment later Rebeccah approached with a long implement that looked like a javelin but with a more rounded, rather than pointed, tip. This was the jumper, used to manually drill a hole into the slate into which explosive material, often gunpowder, was poured to blast large boulders of slate out of the mountain.
Rebeccah handed the jumper to Karis, who waved it at Penny. “Start walking.” The path underfoot was rough and uneven but the lighting had not yet been switched off, so dim though it was, they could see a little way in front of them. They passed a small glass sign that said EXIT in a rather fancy script that reminded Penny of an old theatre sign. The three stumbled on a few more metres and then Penny turned around and faced Karis.
“Where are we going? Do you know?”
“There’s a small cavern ahead on your right. Get in there.”
“You seem to know your way around these tunnels and caverns.”
“My father worked here, a long time ago. In fact, he died down here. I come here often. Well, when I can. I know the emergency escapes. It’s not hard to avoid being seen.”
“So you do know your way around these tunnels?”
Karis shrugged. “You could say that. Now shut up and get in there.”
Arms outstretched, Penny inched forward into the blackness of the small cavern. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, an image emerged of what looked like rows of light-coloured boxes arranged on wooden shelving. They gave off a woody, earthy smell that was pleasant and comforting.
“What’s all this?” asked Penny, referring to the boxes on the shelves.
“Yeah,” said Rebeccah. “What’s this all about? Why are we here? We’re supposed to be at the after-party. People were looking forward to meeting you. Everyone will be wondering where we are.”
“Shut up and let me think,” snarled Karis. She pointed at Penny. “You’re really annoying me. Just sit down and put your hands behind your back.”
“Karis, the ground is cold, hard, uneven, and wet, for God’s sake. I’m not going to sit on it.”
Karis made a jabbing motion with the jumper. “All right. Please yourself. Just stand there, then. But put your hands behind your back.” She motioned to Rebeccah. “Tie her up. Tight.”
Rebeccah reached behind Penny and wrapped the short length of rope, which would have been used as a fuse in the blasting operation, loosely around her wrists. She gave Penny’s arm a reassuring, steadying squeeze and then, with her back to Karis, she reached over to the shelf.
A moment later a box flew past an astonished Penny and struck Karis in the forehead. With a piercing scream, she sank to the ground, dropping the jumper and clutching her head. “Give me the rope,” Rebeccah said to Penny and when she handed it over, Rebeccah smoothly and efficiently wrapped Karis’s wrists with it. And this time, she tightened and tied it.
“It’s over, Karis,” Penny said. “Give it up now.” Karis moaned and struggled to sit up. Rebeccah placed a hand under her shoulder and heaved her into a sitting position. Karis winced at the roughness of the jagged slate beneath her and looked questioningly at Penny.
“So you’re in charge now, are you? Well, what’s next?”
“We’re going to wait here until help arrives,” said Penny. “We’re not going to risk losing you in the tunnels. And we don’t want this to get any more undignified than it already is.”
Penny reached behind her and pulled a box from the shelf. It had NWD stamped on the top so she opened it and examined what looked like black bars. She sniffed the contents and then touched one. The bar felt smooth and waxy. She held it up to her nose again.
“Do you know, I think this is cheese? In a wax coating. Well, at least we won’t be hungry.” She stacked up four boxes and sat on them.
“How are you feeling, Karis?” Penny asked.
“What the hell do you care?”
“I do care.” A moment later she added, “I’d really like to hear what this is all about. It all seems so desperate and sad. I know you were at the nursing home and I think you were involved in the death of Doreen Roberts. Am I right?”
“Mam?” said Rebecca, looking wildly at Penny. “What do you mean? Did she have something to do with Mam’s death?”