‘Maybe it doesn’t work,’ I suggested.
‘Well, let’s try it on something.’
I took a coin from my pocket and dropped it on the grass. Sparky found it straight away.
‘Did it make a buzz?’
‘Mmm. Loud and clear.’
‘What’s it like with something bigger?’ I asked, pushing the head of the spade under the business end. He jumped about a foot in the air.
We tried again, in the opposite direction. Nothing. Then we climbed the fence and tried five yards that side of it, in Davis’s paddock. We found two ring pulls from drinks cans, from the days when they came away in your fingers, an old key and a horse shoe.
‘This is fun,’ Sparky confessed. ‘I might convince Daniel that he ought to have one.’
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Have you tired of his train set, and the radio-controlled aeroplane, and the fishing rod and the mountain bikes and the…’
‘OK! I get the message. It’s just that — Charlie! There’s something here! Something big! I think we’ve found it!’
‘Where!’
‘There! It’s nearly blowing my head off.’
He pinpointed the spot and I started digging. I removed a square of turf and waved him to have another go.
‘It’s still down there,’ he said.
The world started to revolve around me, as if seen from a carousel.
‘They’re back!’ Sparky hissed.
I turned as the headlights of the Range Rover swung across the paddock, sweeping the shadows of trees and fence before them.
‘They can’t see us,’ I said.
A security light came on, headlights were extinguished, doors slammed. We sat on our heels until all was dark again. ‘Right, where were we?’ I wondered.
I dug deeper and Sparky checked the hole again. Still there. I widened it and removed several more spadefuls of soil.
‘It’s still down there.’
‘I’m not happy with this division of labour,’ I puffed as I pushed the spade further down. It came to an abrupt stop.
‘I’ve hit something!’ I exclaimed.
And it was metallic, I quickly discovered, as the spade scraped across it. I removed soil with my hands, revealing a square object, exactly the size I imagined we were looking for. The spade down the side and some applied leverage eventually freed it from its hiding-place. I rose to my feet, holding the heavy metal block as if it were a piece of the true cross.
‘Shine the torch on it,’ I suggested.
‘I’ve been trying. It’s duff.’
‘There’s something embossed on the side.’
‘You’d expect that, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yeah, and it’s heavy enough. Bring the stuff, young Jim, lad; we could be in business. Let’s get back to the cars.’
Stuart Pawson
Last Reminder
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The doubts started on the way back. ‘It’s not gold,’ I decided. ‘It’s more like a tin box. You know — a cash box.’
‘Maybe it’s a cash box full of gold.’
‘Mmm. Perhaps.’
‘Well let’s see, shall we?’
He switched his headlights on and we crouched in front of them, examining our find. When I realised what it was I gave it a hard bang on the Tarmac and a wad of clay came out in a large loaf-
sized lump. Exactly loaf-sized. The word embossed on the side of the box said: BREAD.
Sparky placed his hands over his head, sitting on the floor, and rocked backwards and forwards, making gurgling noises. I hurled the tin over the hedge, far into a copse. It clattered through the branches before falling to earth.
‘I think you and I ought to come to some agreement about this,’ I declared.
He looked up at me, his nose casting a horizontal shadow in the glare of the headlights, the tears from the eye at the illuminated side glistening on his cheek.
‘Agreed,’ he replied, nodding and sniffing. ‘I won’t say a word to anyone about tonight…if you promise not to ever mention line dancing again.’
‘You got it.’
We cleaned up as best we could and put everything in his boot. Any disappointment at not striking gold was tempered by the fact that we were enjoying ourselves. My appetite had returned. ‘God, I hope there’s a fish and chip shop still open, somewhere,’ I said.
Sparky waved an arm in a northerly direction. ‘There’s a good one next junction up. Little restaurant attached.’
‘Great! Fancy some?’
‘Nah. I had a big tea. I’ll come and let you buy me a cuppa, though. I think I deserve it.’
He led the way. It was busy with the trade from the pubs, but they found us a little table in a corner. A young waitress gave us two menus and returned for our order after a few seconds. There were no big decisions to be made.
‘Haddock, chips and peas,’ I told her. ‘That’s just for one. And could we have a pot of tea for two, please?’
She scribbled on her pad. ‘So that’s haddock, chips and peas for one, and tea for two?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘And would you like bread and butter?’
The poor girl blushed to the roots of her hair, wondering what she had said, as two grown men broke down and giggled like imbeciles.
Sparky left me to it, and I took my time, asking for more hot water for the tea. I felt a lot better with something inside me. When I got back in the car I took the mobile phone from my pocket and placed it on the dash. I don’t remember switching it back on, but I must have done. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have started ringing before I was a quarter of the way home. The road was quiet, so I pulled in to the side.
‘Priest,’ I said.
‘Charlie, it’s Dave. Where are you?’
‘I’ve only been driving five minutes. Why?’
‘When I arrived home Shirley said Nigel had been trying to contact us, so I rang him. He said that the APW he put out on K. Tom Davis has borne fruit. Apparently Davis rang Le Shuttle at Folkestone to ask if they could accommodate a Range Rover. They sold him a ticket and he’s supposed to be there at eleven a.m. tomorrow.’
‘You mean — the Channel Tunnel?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Hey, that’s great.’
‘So what do you want us to do?’
Good question. ‘Let’s have a think,’ I said. ‘If he’s booked on for eleven, he’ll have to leave home, what, about six hours earlier?’
‘At least. And presumably you have to be there an hour before take-off, or whatever, for loading, but apparently you don’t book a place, so he could still go anytime.’
‘Could he? But he specifically asked about tomorrow?’
‘That’s what they said.’
‘Right. It looks as if the time has come to have Mr Davis’s vehicle reduced to its component parts. That’ll please him. OK, my faithful friend, thanks for telling me.’
‘So, what are we doing?’
‘Oh, I can manage.’
‘What are you going to do?’ he demanded.
‘I might just go back and hang around. Maybe he still has to fit the bullbars, or something. If I see him leave I can follow him and rustle up some muscle to stop him. I’d like to be there to see his face. And I want to talk to him about Lisa, while his defences are low.’
Sparky said, ‘Right. Where shall I see you?’
‘You don’t have to come all this way back,’ I told him.
‘I bloody well want to,’ he argued. ‘Why should you have all the fun?’
I didn’t mind. It might be a long cold wait, so some company would be welcome. ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Where shall we meet?’
‘And Nigel said he wants to come, too.’
‘Nigel? Where is he now?’
‘At the nick, awaiting further instructions.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Sounds as if you two have it all worked out, so let’s make it a Heckley special. We’ll lift K. Tom ourselves, as soon as he leaves home. You get back here pronto, meet me, oh, remember the sculpture called Spindle Piece?’
‘Yep.’
‘Meet me there. We might be able to see any lights at K. Tom’s from there and we’ll be able to get back to the cars quick to catch up with him on the motorway. Have you a radio?’
‘No.’
‘We’ll have to use mobiles, then. Nigel won’t know where we mean. Tell him to keep observation at the end of Davis’s lane. Ring us when he’s there. OK?’