The Dunbar Case(57)

‘Right, and I’m going to check there’s none in your car and then Rod’s going to lock his away in a compartment in my car with my gun. You’d need to tear the car apart to get at it.’



Templeton shrugged. ‘Okay.’



‘What d’you mean, okay?’ Hector yelped. ‘I thought you were running this show.’



‘Hardy’s got a point. No guns. Not needed.’



Hector muttered and took another swig from his flask. I looked through the Mitsubishi thoroughly and then Templeton and I went to the Falcon and locked his Glock in the compartment. I put its key and the car key in my pocket. If Templeton was still working as a cop this was the moment to tell me but he said nothing. We walked back to where Hector and Twizell stood not talking.



‘Put your backpack on under your jacket and do the jacket up,’ Twizell said. ‘You don’t want anything sticking out or loose.’



He looped the coil of rope over his shoulder and I did the same. Hector turned away and pretended to be interested in the bone sticking out of the debris. Templeton nodded at us.



‘Do it.’



Twizell scratched at his newly sprouted beard, stretched and worked his shoulders. He moved forward and turned sideways to get through the opening. He was much shorter than me but solidly built and it was a tight squeeze. I had to duck down but I got through easily enough. The smell inside the space was a mixture of foul, trapped air, damp rock and rotting vegetation.



I switched on my torch. ‘We should have gas masks.’



‘Been blocked a good while. There’s air vents further down.’



‘It’s that “down” that worries me most,’ I said, ‘and air vents suggest water could get in.’



‘I’ll look after you. Hey, Cliff, that was a great move about that fucker’s gun. You’ve got one tucked away somewhere, right?’



Wrong.’



‘Shit, I was counting on you.’



‘Count again. Let’s get on with it.’





~ * ~





25





My first problem, apart from the stink, was that I had to keep slightly hunched over, not a comfortable way to proceed. My favourite sport had been surfing, where the whole world is open to you. Even boxing, although you’re in a confined space for the contest, takes place in a bigger space. The idea of enjoying creeping along in an underground alley in a half-light was alien to me. But the secret of getting things done is to do them and not waste energy complaining.



I followed Twizell, who, I had to admit, showed some talent in the caper—signalling me to warn of hazards like jutting-out rocks and unevenness underfoot. The air quality improved but what I’d suspected proved to be true. Water had got in when the area was flooded and we were slogging through ankle-deep mud and splashing through puddles. After what felt like half an hour, but was probably less, of steady but gradual descending we came to the first drop. We needed to get down to a level about ten metres below where we were. Water dripped over the edge.



Twizell shone his torch beam around, located a solid anchor point and tied his rope around it.



‘Get down backwards, using the rope, and sort of walk down the face,’ he said, ‘like this.’



He disappeared over the edge and I heard a few grunts and then he shone his torch up at me.



‘It’s easy,’ he said.



It wasn’t. I was stiffer than was right for the job; my palms were sweaty and the rope slipped and burned them and I bumped my knee several times on the way down.



‘Told you,’ he said. ‘Picked this because I knew I could get in and out easily.’



I grunted and rubbed my hands together.



‘Sorry, should have got gloves for you.’



‘I’ll be all right. Let’s go.’



‘Notice it’s a bit warmer?’



‘Yeah.’



‘Further you go down the warmer it gets. I’ve been in some caves hot as—’



‘Jack, we haven’t got all day.’



The ground was very rough now and Twizell stumbled a few times and swore. But it was drier. He was less cavalier with his torch after that and kept it trained a metre or so in front of him.



‘At least it’s dry,’ I said.



‘So far. All depends on the fucking vents and the flood.’ His laugh was almost a giggle. ‘Money might’ve floated away. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?’



‘You used to do this for fun?’



‘Yeah. I’ll do it again if I get through this. Reckon we will?’



‘Fair chance.’



The cave, which after the drop had been high enough for me to stand and wide enough for easy passage, suddenly turned a corner and narrowed. Twizell moved cautiously and I heard a sigh of relief from him.