‘Well, in that case I think the best thing to do would be for George and I to go down into your cellar and have a look around, and then we’ll search the rest of your house from top to bottom, if that’s okay with you?’
‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’
George placed the teapot back down on the table and waited for Annie’s instructions.
‘Right, do you want to show us where the cellar is so we can give it a quick check?’
‘I don’t know if I should let a young thing like you go down there. It’s such a dangerous place; it always has been.’
There was something in the woman’s eyes that looked straight through Annie’s and said quite clearly, ‘I’m not talking rubbish; this is all true.’ And Annie knew then that she believed her. She nodded her head.
‘It’s okay. I promise I understand. I’ve dealt with a lot of things that were slightly unusual the last couple of years and I know how to look after myself because I’ve had to. Anyway, I have George here to help, so please don’t worry about me.’
They followed her along the corridor to where the cellar door was situated and Annie felt her stomach do a full-length flip. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood on end and she felt a cold chill run through her bones. Martha stared at her.
‘You feel it, don’t you? You know it’s not right. It’s never been right since the day this house was built. I’ve been stuck here my whole life waiting for my brother, Joe, to come back and making sure that whatever it is that lives down there can’t get out.’
Annie looked at the number of bolts and padlocks on the heavy wooden door and wanted to slide them all back in place, lock the cellar up tight and leave Beckett House right now. But she couldn’t leave this poor old woman to deal with whatever it was hiding down there on her own. She wished that Jake was here. Even though he hated anything like this, just his sheer size and muscles always made her feel a whole lot better. George, who was looking bemused, was an inch shorter than her with a bit of a paunch, and didn’t instil the same sense of security. She wondered if she should ask for Jake to come and back her up because, technically, she was on her own and this man she couldn’t find might be up in the bedrooms right now, stealing the family heirlooms.
Annie pulled her thick, black leather gloves from her pocket and slid them on; then she took the torch from her body armour and pressed the button to switch it on. George fumbled to get his out of the loop he’d tied it to so that he wouldn’t lose it, but he managed to get it out and did the same. She said a quick prayer for whoever might be listening to protect them both from evil, and then she worked loose the bolts that were still fastened. Pulling the door back, she reached for the light-pull and tugged it. Watery light filled the cellar steps and she noticed the old woman, who was shaking, let out a small sigh and relax her shoulders. Taking this as a good sign she shouted, ‘Hello, it’s the police. Is there anyone down there?’
They were greeted by silence. Annie nodded for George to follow her. He didn’t look quite so bemused now. She shouted again and again but beyond the underlying feeling that something bad had happened down there, there was nothing. When she got to the bottom she stood on the last step and shone her torch around, even though there was a light on, because it didn’t reach the dark corners. She knew what horrors could lurk in dark corners because she’d seen them for herself. The vast cellar looked empty. There were boxes and shelves filled to the brim with all sorts of stuff but they were all pushed against a wall and there was nowhere for this man to be hiding.
She bent down and, with one gloved hand, picked up the torch that had been abandoned on the floor and switched it off. There was a smell underneath the damp and she tried to place it, but she couldn’t. Although every sense was on heightened alert, she didn’t feel as if there was anything in here right now. But it definitely felt as if something had been here. It had left an echo of itself. She stepped down and began heading to the very far corner where the big, iron drain cover was pushed to one side. So someone had been down here, because she was pretty sure Martha Beckett wouldn’t have been able to lift it. There was also a big damp patch next to it, along with an assortment of tools that looked older than she did.
She walked across to the hole, wondering if the man had fallen into it and hurt himself. As her shadow blocked out the light and she stood over it a sense of dread settled over her. It was so strong she felt her own knees go weak. There was movement at the bottom of it and she forced herself to shine the torch down to see what it was that was scaring her so much. Whatever it was moved fast as the light filled the hole. If she’d blinked she would have missed it. George, who had followed her, was standing behind her peering over her shoulder.
‘Did you see that? What was it?’
Annie felt better knowing he’d seen whatever it was, but it wasn’t their missing man – it was on all fours. If someone had fallen into that hole they wouldn’t be hiding from them, they’d be screaming to be helped out.
‘I don’t know, maybe a rat.’
‘Some big rat – it was bloody huge.’
Annie didn’t say anything else. She knew that it wasn’t a rat and she knew that it wasn’t the missing man. What she did know was that whatever it was knew that she had been looking for it, and that really scared her. She stepped back away from the hole. A fear inside her of falling down it and coming face to face with whatever it was made her break out in a cold sweat.
‘Come on, he’s not down here. Help me pull the cover back over. It’s dangerous leaving it open like that. Anyone could fall in.’
Or anything could get out. But she didn’t say that aloud.
‘I think our man decided to cut his losses and run when he saw how deep the hole was and that it might be full of rats. I bet he’s long gone and it wouldn’t surprise me if her purse or the family silverware are missing.’
The cover was heavy and it was hard lifting it up. Between them they managed to shove it back in place as best as they could. Annie cringed at something sticky on her gloves and led the way back upstairs. She shone the torch onto the back of the door and wondered what the symbols meant that had been carved into the wood. George whispered, ‘Are they devil-worshipping signs?’
She shook her head and lowered her voice. ‘No, I don’t think so but I can’t say for sure. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
She stepped into the hall, closely followed by George, and they slammed the door shut. Annie slid all the padlocks across before making her way back down to the kitchen.
‘There’s nobody down there now, Miss Beckett, although we can tell that he was down there because there are some tools near to the drain and the cover was off, but I think he’s decided to call it a day and left. Do you have anywhere I can wash my hands?’
‘Oh dear, I was afraid that was what you would say. Yes, just down the opposite end of the corridor there is a washroom tucked under the stairs.’
‘Thank you. I’ll just wash my hands and then we’ll do a search of your house to make sure he’s not hiding anywhere.’
She walked along to the washroom, desperate to wash whatever the black gunge was from her gloved fingers. Using her elbow to press the light switch she went inside and turned the tap on, letting it run for a moment to get hot. As she held her gloved fingers under the tap she gasped to see the water had turned blood red. Tugging the gloves from her fingers she lifted her hands to examine them and make sure she hadn’t cut herself on the rusty drain cover, but they were fine, and the water was now running clear. Picking up the soap she scrubbed it against her skin and then let her hands stay under the hot water until it began to scald her. There was a towel next to her and she dried her hands on it. The mirror above the sink had steamed up and she rubbed at it with the corner of the towel so she could see herself, but what she saw looking back at her made her scream so loud that George came running down the corridor and hammered on the door.