Killer mine, p.19
Killer Mine, page 19
I told him. When I’d finished, he nodded slowly. ‘I was afraid of that,’ he said. ‘But I thought his guilty conscience would keep him clear of you.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ I said. ‘There must be some justice in the world.’ I got to my feet. ‘My God, Manack! I want the swine brought to justice. He drove my mother mad. The sheer, calculated cruelty of it is horrible. I want justice,’ I cried, thumping the desk. ‘And by God I’ll have it, even if it means giving myself up and standing a court martial.’
‘Listen,’ he said. ‘What good will that do you? None. Absolutely none. I’ll look after the old man. I’ll lock him up. From now on he’ll be out of harm’s way. You do the job you have to do. Then you clear off. He’ll get his desserts. He’ll spend the rest of his life wandering forlornly through the galleries of Wheal Garth watching the sea slopping about in the gallery that might have brought him a fortune. He’s mad enough now. He’ll die a crazy, pathetic old man. You’ll have your revenge, if that’s what you’re seeking.’
‘I’m not seeking revenge.’ I told him. ‘It’s justice I want.’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You can do what you like when you’ve finished this job for me,’ he said. ‘But he won’t hang, even if you can prove it - which I doubt. They’d send him to Broadmoor. And you’d serve a sentence for desertion. You’d drag your mother’s name through the courts - see her wretched history plastered all over the pages of the Sunday press. And destroy Kitty entirely,’ he added.
He was right there. I leaned against the desk. The anger had gone. I felt flat and tired. ‘I guess you’re right,’ I said. The thought of Kitty, who had only once been as far as Penzance, giving evidence from the witness box at a murder trial - it was unthinkable. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I’ll let him be.’ And I went towards the door. Then I stopped. ‘But see he’s locked up safe. I’m not working down in the Mermaid if he’s loose — not with all that water standing over us in Come Lucky.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ he answered. ‘I don’t trust him any more than you do.’
I hesitated. I wanted to tell him I was clearing out — leaving the place - getting right away from the whole rotten business. But he sat there watching me, the gun in his hand and his eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t let me go. I knew that. He’d too much to lose. He’d kill me rather than let me get clear of the place.
I went out and closed the door behind me. Now that my anger was gone I felt adrift. I had no purpose. Disgust for the whole rotten business filled my mind. I felt the way Hamlet must have felt. The manner of my mother’s death called for vengeance. And yet I could not do it. I could not just kill the old man in cold blood. He was mad. And disgust, not anger, filled me. I’d go away. I’d get clear of it all.
Then I saw the kitchen door facing me. And through it came the sound of a girl sobbing. It was a wild, uncontrolled sound. I opened the door and went in. Kitty was alone. She was sitting by the fire, her shoulders racked by sobs so violent that it seemed impossible for her body to stand it. Her face was white even in the ruddy glow of the flames. She didn’t see me. She was staring into the fire and her eyes were dry.
‘Kitty!’ I said.
She didn’t hear me.
I went over to her and took her by the shoulders. She looked up then and saw me. The sobbing stopped. She seemed to be holding her breath. Then suddenly she bent her head against my body and the tears came. Her body trembled and shook in my hands. ‘Don’t cry,’ I said. ‘It’s past now. It couldn’t be helped.’
‘It could,’ she cried out wildly. ‘It could. Oh, Jim - how can you forgive me? She was so good to me. And I believed him. I believed what he said of her. I should have known she didn’t do it. I couldn’t have saved my mother. But I could have saved her.’ She looked up at me wildly. ‘Say you forgive me, Jim. Say you forgive me. I couldn’t have known, could I?’
‘Of course not,’ I said, stroking her hair. The poor kid was beside herself.
‘Oh God!’ she breathed. ‘It’s so horrible. All that year. She was in that room a year. And she believed she’d done it. She believed she was mad. Oh, if I’d only known,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have believed it of her. If I hadn’t believed it, then she wouldn’t have.’
‘Then he’d have killed her a different way,’ I said gently. ‘Don’t worry, Kitty. It wasn’t your fault.’
She clutched at my hand and held it tight against her wet cheek. ‘She used to tell me fairy stories when I was a little girl with pigtails,’ she said in a stifled voice. ‘She loved me. I should have known. Her face looking at me through the hatch … Oh, God!’
The door opened and Captain Manack came in. ‘The old man’s not in his room,’ he said. He came up and caught hold of Kitty. ‘Did you hear my father come out?’
She gulped and then nodded.
‘Which way did he go - upstairs?’
She shook her head. ‘He went out the front door,’ she said slowly.
He let her go then and turned to me. ‘He’s down the mine. You come down with us.’ He turned quickly and went out through the scullery. I heard him shouting for Friar and Slim.
‘Listen, Kitty,’ I said, seizing her by the shoulders and forcing her to look at me. ‘You can’t stay here. Do you understand? You must go away.’
She nodded slowly. And then she said in a small, lost voice, ‘But where? I’ve nowhere to go. I hate this place. But I’ve never been anywhere else.’
‘You’re coming away with me.’ I said it without thinking, my mind suddenly made up.
She stared at me. Voices sounded through the open scullery door. They were coming nearer. ‘Meet me down at the mine at three o’clock in the morning. There’s no time to talk about it,’ I said quickly as footsteps sounded on the cobbles of the stables. ‘Meet me at three o’clock. Understand?’
She nodded slowly. She was too dazed to think it out. She would have agreed to anything I said at that moment. ‘Promise?’ I said.
‘I promise,’ she answered.
I heard Friar’s voice saying, ‘Ruddy lark, this is - I don’t fink. We bin on the job since six this mornin’, yer know, Capting. I didn’t aim ter spend the night playin’ tag wiv your old man down that bleedin’ mine.’ They stopped in the scullery.
‘We’ve gotto find him,’ Captain Manack answered sharply. Then he came through into the kitchen. ‘Come on, Pryce,’ he said.
‘I’ll stay up here for a bit,’ I said. ‘The girl’s had a shock.’
‘To hell with the girl,’ he snapped. ‘Come on now.’
‘I’m staying with the girl,’ I told him.
‘You’re coming down the mine with us.’ There was an implied threat in the quietness of his voice. ‘Don’t start any trouble up here,’ he added, and glanced towards Kitty.
I had half a mind to defy him. But it wouldn’t do any good. He’d got his gun. I could see the shape of it bulging in his pocket. ‘All right,’ I said. Then I turned to Kitty. ‘Promise?’ I asked her again.
She nodded slowly. ‘I promise,’ she said as though repeating something she’d been taught.
I left her then and went out with Manack. As he shut the door behind us, I saw her sitting just as she had been when I had come in, her eyes staring straight in front of her without seeing anything. I think it must have been then that I realised that I loved her. I know it suddenly seemed quite natural that I’d decided to take her with me when I left in the morning. And the sight of her suffering tore at me as though it were myself that was suffering.
Outside, I was surprised to see that the moon was still shining. It seemed such a long time back that Kitty and I had gone into the house.
We walked hurriedly and in silence, Manack beside me. Slim and Friar behind. We reached the mine buildings. They went into the store shed and got helmets and lamps and clothes. Then we went into the hoist. ‘Suppose ‘e’s wanderin’ aba’t the cliffs?’ Friar said. “E might be anywhere. Don’t yer fink one of us better stay on top?’
‘No,’ Manack answered and we got into the gig. ‘He’s down the mine. It’s the place he’d naturally go.’ He flung the lever over and we began to descend. But he stopped at the store room gallery. ‘This is where you get off, Pryce,’ he said.
‘You don’t want me down the mine?’ I said.
‘No.’ He stepped out beside me. ‘I’m not taking any chances with you, my lad - not after what’s happened. Dave!’ he shouted. ‘Dave! Where is that damned Welshman? Dave!’
The light of a torch flickered. ‘Yes. Yes, what is it?’ Dave Tanner’s voice sounded agitated as he suddenly appeared in the gallery.
‘Oh, there you are. Have you got a gun?’
‘Indeed I have, Captain. I always -‘
‘Then keep an eye on your chum, Pryce. You’re not to leave him - understand? If he tries to get away use your gun. I hold you responsible for him.’ He turned to me. ‘Don’t take this amiss, Pryce. I don’t mean you any harm, but I’m taking no chances. A couple of days and you’ll be through. Then you can go.’
His action had taken me so completely by surprise that I said nothing for a moment. Dave had reached us now. The whites of his eyes showed in his swarthy face. ‘What is the trouble, Captain?’ he asked.
‘There’s no trouble,’ Manack replied sharply. ‘Just see that he’s here in the morning, that’s all.’ His voice dropped. ‘If he’s not - well, you won’t get your passage to Italy.’
The menace in his voice brought sudden suspicion to my mind. ‘When I’ve done this job for you,’ I said, ‘what guarantee have I that you’ll let me go then?’
‘My word,’ he answered. ‘I’ve never gone back on my word, Pryce. You’ll sail on the Arisaig Monday night if the Mermaid’s opened up by then.’
‘And get murdered by that swine Mulligan,’ I said.
His face darkened and he caught hold of my arm. ‘I told you I never went back on my word, didn’t I? He’ll have instructions to land you at Naples.’
He met my gaze and I knew that he would do what he said. ‘All right,’ I said.
He nodded and stepped back into the gig. Friar put the lever over and it rattled out of sight down into the bowels of the mine.
‘Whatever’s happened, man?’ Dave said. ‘I waited and waited. I thought you’d never come back. I don’t like it here at all - not on my own. There’s the sound of the water, you know, and it’s so quiet.’ And when I didn’t say anything, he said. ‘Is it a row with the Captain you’ve had?’ The sound of the gig ceased. Everything was quiet - only the drip of the water. I shivered and turned towards Dave. He started back. ‘It is a ghost you’ve seen, man?’ he said. ‘You’re as white as a sheet. And your clothes - they’re all wet.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m cold and wet.’
I went along the gallery to the hideout. Dave stepped aside to let me pass, his hand in his jacket pocket. He was scared of me — scared of Manack - scared of himself. He made me nervous.
As soon as I was inside the hideout, he pulled the slabs to and bolted them. Even then he kept his distance. I stripped and towelled myself down. All the time he plied me with questions. In the end I told him how old Manack had tried to kill me.
‘Ter-rible!’ he said. ‘Ter-rible!’ He sat there shaking his head, living the fear that I had suffered with all the emotionalism of his race. ‘But why did he do it, man?’
‘He didn’t want me letting the sea into his beloved mine,’ I told him.
‘You should have stayed here with me,’ he said. ‘Worried to death I was about you. I thought maybe the police had come. I went out once. But then I was afraid that if they came, they’d search the mine. I bolted myself in. Like being in a coffin, it was. I got scared. It was so quiet and me not knowing what was happening in the world outside.’
And so he went on whilst I sat and tried to think. The old man was loose in the mine. And Kitty up there alone in the house. How was I to meet her at three in the morning with Dave Tanner sitting there, nervous as a kitten, and his hand on the butt of a gun? And if I did meet her, where were we to go! I was a fool. All I’d been thinking about when I’d told her to meet me was getting out of the place. I’d forgotten I was wanted by the police - forgotten that a description of me had been published. And whilst I tried to sort it out in my mind, that damned little Welshman went on talking. I tried to shut him up. But it was like telling water to stay in a bottle with a broken bottom. He just had to talk. He had to talk because he was scared to sit silent.
In the end I could stand it no longer, ‘I’m going outside,’ I said. I had to know whether they had located the old man. I got to my feet. In the same instant Dave had leapt to the entrance, the gun in his hand. ‘No, you don’t,’ he said.
‘Listen, Dave,’ I said, ‘I need some fresh air.’
‘So do I,’ he answered. ‘But the Captain said I was to keep you here. And it’s not going against the Captain’s orders I am.’
‘I can’t stand this place,’ I said. ‘It’s like a tomb.’
‘It is indeed. But -‘ He shrugged his shoulders.
I said, ‘You realise that the old man means to kill me. He’s tried already and he’ll try again. He’s loose in the mine at this moment. For all I know he’s outside in the gallery right now. One charge and he could have us walled up in here by a fall of rock.’
Dave’s eyes dilated in horror. ‘You really think that?’
I nodded. ‘And they’d never get us out in time,’ I said.
‘You think he’d try?’
‘He might. You don’t want to be trapped down here, do you?’
‘Indeed I don’t. I’ve always hated being shut in anywhere, you see.’
‘Well, then, let’s go up top,’ I suggested. ‘I won’t try and escape if that’s what you’re scared of. Where the hell would I go? I’m wanted by the police the same as you.
‘That’s true enough.’ He went over the entrance and shot back the bolt. ‘We’ll wait in the gallery.’
‘Why not up top?’ I suggested.
‘The Captain may return.’
With that I had to be content. At least I could watch for the gig to come up. We dragged a couple of boxes out into the gallery and sat there. Dave was taking no chances and stationed himself well behind me. For a time he talked incessantly. But gradually he grew silent. I felt tired and sleepy. The time dragged by. I think I must have dozed for I started awake and heard the rattle of the gig coming up. Dave turned out his lamp. A faint glow showed at the end of the gallery. It grew bright and the sound of the gig grew louder. Then for a brief instant I had a glimpse of miners’ lamps and the bearded skull of the elder Manack standing between Friar and his son.
A match flared in the darkness and Dave relit his lamp.
‘I’m going up top,’ I said.
‘Stay where you are.’ Dave’s voice was nervous again.
‘I want to see the old man safely clear of the mine,’ I said. ‘For God’s sake, man, what’s the matter with you; I shan’t run with Captain Manack within call.’
That seemed to satisfy him and he followed me without further protest as I went up the cross-cut to the shaft and climbed the ladder to the top. The moon was sinking towards the sea, throwing long shadows across the white landscape. I breathed in the fresh air and, as we sat down on a patch of bracken among the gorse bushes, I sensed that Dave was less nervous up here in the open air.
We hadn’t been there a few minutes before figures moved out of the black shadows of the sheds. There were four of them. Friar and Slim each had hold of one of the old man’s arms. His son followed behind. They climbed the hill towards us. As they came within earshot Slim was saying, ‘Bloody lucky, I call it.’
‘It fair makes me sweat ter fink aba’t it,’ Friar said.
‘Well, see that you don’t mention it to Pryce,’ Captain Manack ordered. ‘I don’t want him getting scared.’
‘I’m all fer goin’ back ter the nice peaceful life of makin’ kerb stones,’ Friar said. ‘Wot you say, Slim? Kerb stones is a sort o’ restful thing ter be makin’.’
‘You didn’t think much of the job when we were cutting those ledges,’ Slim answered sourly.
‘Well, yer can ‘ave too much of a good thing. Nah all we fink of is liquor.’ He spat. ‘Some o’ these ‘ere ruddy Black Marketeers oughter come an’ get their liquor the ‘ard way - like we does.’
The sound of their voices died away. I watched them disappear over the brow of the hill, four dark figures against the moon-filled sky. ‘What about going up to the top of the hill and seeing him safely inside the house?’ I said. ‘I won’t be happy till I know the old man’s safely locked up.’ The time was two-thirty. I had to keep him above ground till three.
He hesitated. ‘All right,’ he said.
We went slowly up the hill. I bore away slightly to the left where there was a gulley that ran up close to the house. We went up this and came out within fifty yards of Cripples’ Ease. There was no one about. The house stood square and unbeautiful, looking out with pale eyes to the sea. ‘Come on,’ Dave said. ‘He’s safe enough now.’
A light flickered suddenly in the little dormer window. The bars showed clearly against the orange glow. Then the light vanished as though cut off by the closing of a door. Dave was plucking at my elbow. I shook him off impatiently. Something told me what I should see and it fascinated me. For a moment the window remained as blind as the others. Then suddenly I saw what I was waiting for.
Pressed close to the panes was Manack’s bearded face. I can see it now — haggard and drawn. He was looking out to the mine and his face caught the light of the sinking moon so that it was white as the face of a ghost.
CHAPTER NINE
Blasting Operations
The sight of the old man’s face peering out from between the bars of that little window gave me a horrible sense of satisfaction I had wanted justice. This was vengeance. I thought of how my mother had looked out from behind those bars and how it drove her to suicide. And now, the man who had made her believe she had killed Kitty’s mother, the man who had shut her in there away from the world, was himself locked in that room — and mad, really mad. I started to laugh. The sound of my voice jarred and frightened me. It was a harsh laugh, but I couldn’t stop it.
