A Christmas Revelation Read online

  “Where’d the old bastard go to?” Younger asked. He was obviously confused.

  “To where Horace kept his things, of course!” Oldham replied. “He’d hide the gold somewhere round here. Stands to reason.”

  “Oh, very clever,” Younger said sarcastically. “Like we didn’t look here before! Turned the place inside out and found nothing.”

  “If the old swine is still alive, where better to hide it than where we’ve already looked? Stupid!”

  “Then what took you two bleeding years to work that out?” Younger said with an edge of ridicule to his voice.

  “ ’Cos I thought he was dead,” Oldham snarled.

  “Who told you he wasn’t dead, then?”

  “Eloise, of course! What do you think we took her for?”

  “Well, I know what I think you took her for!”

  “You ever tried that with her? And don’t bother lying to me. I know where you got that bite on your arm. And it weren’t rats!”

  “I’ll do her next time.”

  “And then what? If so, you’ll have to kill her, or she’ll come after you!”

  “So I’ll kill her, then! What’s wrong with that? We don’t need her, after we’ve got the gold. Only took her so we could find the old man. What do you reckon brought him back?”

  “ ’Cos he left the gold here, you fool! He didn’t come back for her, that’s for sure. He would’ve taken her with him the first time. Silly little cow!”

  Worm felt Eloise wince beside him. It wasn’t so much a movement as a tightening of everything inside her, as when one expects a blow. That was nothing like the father she had described. Did she only remember him as she wished it had been? He could understand that. He felt a fierce twinge of pity for her. It hurt—it hurt very much.

  Then he thought of what the men meant to do to her. He’d seen men hurt women before, just because they liked to. Some of those screams he would not forget.

  He pulled hard at her hand. “Do we have to get the gold? If we leave them, they’ll find it anyway and then kill each other over it,” he urged.

  “I need to see it,” she said harshly. “I want to make sure they find it. Or if they don’t, then they’ll each think the other got to it first.”

  “What about Squeaky?”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll get away.”

  Even as she said it, Worm knew she was lying. She was so angry, she’d forgotten about Squeaky. He was going to have to do something about this himself. He tried to slip his hand out of hers, but she held on too tightly.

  They both stiffened as they heard the movement ahead. Then suddenly there was a scraping sound and a tiny pinprick of light appeared. One of the men had struck a match, and a scene gradually took form around them. At first it was only a hand holding a taper in front of a lantern, the glass shiny and smeared. The taper touched the wick and a yellow glow filled the lantern and beyond. They could see Oldham’s face, all planes and angles, dark smudges where his eyes must be, black brows, stubble on his cheeks and chin.

  Younger was crouched near him. He was smiling, the light shining on his teeth and reflecting in his eyes, as if they were blue glass.

  Eloise gripped Worm’s hand even harder.

  Where was Squeaky? Was he here? Was he watching and listening, too? Was he safe?

  Worm had no idea how high the ceiling was. He could see only a short distance around the two men, maybe four feet in each direction. Two men crouching over a lantern, a couple of wooden boxes, both broken, and the contents scattered. Beyond the light other boxes and bales rose like shadows, no more than an impression of height, of darkness arching above endlessly—in a ceiling? A roof? Not the sky, because it was dry in here, without wind or air, but still bitterly cold.

  For long seconds, nobody moved.

  Where was Squeaky?

  Worm gripped Eloise’s hand.

  Then from somewhere in the darkness close above them, the sound of laughter. Then it came again, softer the second time, but quite clear.

  Oldham shot to his feet, the lantern swaying violently. The light moved all round the cavernous interior of the warehouse. There were boxes and bales in the center of the floor, but a lot of the outer walls were bare. Perhaps they were waiting for a shipment? There was a first floor, fifteen feet higher at least, and a flight of wooden stairs running up to its balcony. The faint glimmer of a lantern shone on Squeaky’s white hair. He looked like an animated skeleton, with his bony hands, fingers outstretched, and his cadaverous face smiling now, all his long uneven teeth showing. His arms and legs were invisible.

  Younger let out a shriek, but whether it was anger or terror, or both, Worm couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care. Squeaky was all right, and he was here with them.

  Squeaky waved, then backed away from the railing and disappeared out of sight, and they heard the clatter of his feet as he ran along the balcony and down a passageway.

  Both the other men scrambled up the stairs after him, the lantern waving and jerking wildly, at risk of shattering any moment, as the darkness closed in.

  Eloise jerked Worm so hard he tripped and regained his footing only with difficulty and had to catch up with her. She was following the men with the lantern, and it was easy enough to see where they were. It was entirely another matter for Worm to see his own way up the stairs. They reached the top and went along the same passageway. Eloise fell over a bale of something and landed hard, pulling Worm with her. But she was so bent on keeping up with Oldham and Younger that she didn’t even make a cry. She climbed to her feet again, grasped for Worm, and ran even faster to catch up.

  The wavering light was ahead of them, getting higher in the air as Oldham climbed another flight of steps, cursing softly as he went.

  Worm’s legs were aching, but the alternative to keeping up was being left alone in the vast cavern, with no idea where the others were—miles away, gone home without him, or creeping up on him in the dark. And anyway, he had to be with Eloise, because she was going toward something dreadful and she needed Worm to save her from it. No one else would, not even Squeaky, because he didn’t know what she meant to do.

  They banged into the bottom of more stairs, bruising themselves. But there was no time to think of pain. Immediately they started to climb up even higher. The light disappeared ahead of them. That must mean everyone had gone farther in: Squeaky with the first light, Oldham with the second.

  The steps were steep; Eloise had to hold up her skirts so she wouldn’t trip over them. It would be terrible to fall all the way down to the bottom. You could break your neck. Worm concentrated on climbing.

  They reached the top and stopped to catch their breath, both of them. It was a long way up. Counting the first, it was now three normal flights at least. He looked around. It was just as cold up here, but grayer, not black, as if there were lights somewhere ahead, gray light at the upper story. And he could smell the mud and salt more sharply now. He leaned toward the cold air and saw dimly the black outline of the warehouse walls against an opening to the sky.

  He felt Eloise’s fingers tighten on his arm. There was a tiny yellow light ahead of them. Squeaky—or Oldham?

  “Go carefully,” Eloise whispered.

  “They can’t see us,” Worm answered. “We got no light, and it’s dark, anyway.”

  “It’s very dark,” she agreed. “And if we fall over anything, sure as death, they’ll hear us.” She pulled him a little as she stepped forward with the same confidence as if she could see. Did she know where she was going? Did she know everything, even where the gold was, and she was just pretending?

  They moved softly, all the way along the passage, smelling the open air more strongly with each yard they covered.

  Suddenly Eloise stopped and jerked Worm to a standstill beside her.

  He froze. And then he heard a voice. I
t was Oldham, and he sounded frightened and angry.

  “Don’t stand there gibbering and pointing your hands! You’re not a ghost, damn you!”

  There was no answer. Was he speaking to Squeaky? He must be.

  “Where is it?” Younger said loudly. “You left it here!”

  “He didn’t,” Oldham argued, and his voice filled with contempt. “He came back after we’d searched, and left it here then!”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “How in hell do I know? Perhaps because we were after him and he knew we’d already searched here?”

  “Lot of good that did us!”

  “Well, maybe the bleeding police were after him!”

  Then came the quite distinct sound of laughter.

  Squeaky again?

  “Be careful,” Worm whispered. “Oh, be careful, you…” He could not think of the right words. He wanted to say “fool” but that was disrespectful, and he did not feel that way about Squeaky. Squeaky was only here because Worm had followed a silly dream, and Squeaky had followed it with him, to keep him safe. He could see that now.

  “We’ve got to help,” he whispered to Eloise.

  “Shh!” she hissed, but she pulled him with her several more steps in silence.

  Worm stumbled a few times, but they moved all the way along the passage without seeing the floor they walked on. But at the far end, the light was gray, as if beyond them the sky had light in it. Maybe the clouds had blown away, at least in part, and the moon was out.

  Eloise stopped. She touched Worm in warning and he said nothing. They were on a sort of balcony, looking down a few wooden steps to a small workroom. There were two lanterns lit, both resting on the floor. It gave the space an eerie look, everything lit from beneath instead of above, as they were used to. Faces looked different, yellow light under the chin, making the eyes look like holes in the head, noses and cheekbones exaggerated. All the planes of their faces were gold, heads shapeless at the back in the darkness. Hands cast huge shadows.

  Oldham and Younger were both scrabbling in old drawers and boxes. Squeaky was well apart from them, watching. He looked exaggeratedly tall in the misplaced light, as if his head were seven or eight feet above those of the men on the floor, moving so feverishly.

  No one looked up long enough to see Eloise or Worm. Worm looked sideways at her. They should have seen her, because the lantern light, even at a distance, caught her face at the periphery of its range, and caught the gold in her hair.

  Worm pulled her back a bit, and she seemed to understand why.

  Younger finished going through one old chest of drawers, many of the drawers broken, and there was no use trying to put them back in the frame. He swore and moved to a crate. He seemed unaware of Squeaky watching him, never mind Eloise and Worm. He began to pull the crate apart.

  Oldham looked around, checking that Younger was still looking, then resumed his own search.

  Seconds ticked by.

  Then suddenly Oldham gave a shout.

  Everyone turned to stare at him. He was pulling straw out of a packing case, and when he was at the bottom, he very carefully lifted out a metal box. It was as if he knew the gold was inside it, he lifted it so gently, and with such a look of glee on his yellow, lantern-lit face.

  Younger threw aside the crate he had been working on, hurling it a distance away and disregarding its splintering against the side of another wooden crate. He dived forward.

  Far above them, Squeaky was watching intently.

  Eloise stood so still, Worm wondered if she were breathing. Her hand groped his so hard it hurt. He wriggled a bit, but she was oblivious of him. All she could see was her father’s metal box.

  Oldham pulled the lid, but it did not move. He pulled again.

  Younger swore sharply and snatched the whole box from him. He exerted his entire strength, but the box lid did not budge. He picked up the box, and from his sudden bending Worm knew it was really heavy. Was it full of gold? Really full?

  For a long moment Oldham and Younger stared at each other.

  Worm felt Eloise let go of his hand and move away a step. On the other side of the room, at the same height as themselves, Squeaky took a step forward, lifted up his hand for a moment, and smiled. Then he stepped out of the light, and when Worm looked again, he had disappeared.

  On the floor where Oldham and Younger were still trying to open the box, Oldham shook it and something heavy and metallic rattled inside. Oldham’s face gleamed with the thought of triumph.

  That was when Worm turned and looked at Eloise. She had moved a step farther forward and her face was clearly visible in the light of the two lanterns below. She looked as if she had finally tasted a long-hungered-for victory. A wide smile curved her lips. It was not sweet or gentle; it was a smile shining with satisfaction. In fact, it was unkind.

  “So, you found it?” she said.

  Oldham drew his breath in sharply and coughed hard. It was dusty in here.

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling back at her as if he had known she was somewhere close. “Didn’t think we would, did you?”

  He lifted the box and rattled it. “Hear that? It’s gold!”

  Eloise began carefully going down the steps, one and then stopping, another and then stopping. “Yes,” she agreed. “Yours—and his.” She gestured toward Younger. “Say half and half. Or maybe you want a bit more than that? You did most of the clever stuff, after all.”

  “Hey!” Younger rose to his feet, his face twisted with fury. “I done the dangerous bits. Who are you fooling?”

  Oldham stood up too, his skin flushed dark with anger. “So you’re wanting more than half? You’ll get your share, and no more!”

  “Gonna make me, are you?” Younger shouted back, lifting his fist.

  Worm looked sideways at Eloise. He expected to see fear in her face—he wanted to—but what he saw was satisfaction. They had killed her father, and now they were going to kill each other. For the gold? Or just for hate?

  He took her sleeve and pulled at it hard. “You can’t let them do this! Eloise!”

  “I can. They killed my father for that. So they can kill each other now.” There was no softness in her. Only anger and terrible pain.

  It brought a hard lump to Worm’s throat, and an ache he couldn’t send away. But he was caught, too big to cry like a little boy. He swallowed. “Then you’re no better than them!”

  She swung round to look at him.

  He was furious because he couldn’t stop the tears spilling over and running down his cheeks.

  “I suppose you want me to stop them?” she said.

  He couldn’t speak, his throat was too choked, but he nodded.

  Just below them, Oldham and Younger were shouting at each other. Oldham took a swing and the punch landed hard. Younger staggered backward.

  “Stop it!” Eloise shouted. Letting go of Worm, she went quickly down the last few steps and over toward them.

  Oldham hit her, and she almost fell over.

  “Idiot!” she said at him, forcing the word through her teeth. “You can’t even get into the box!”

  They both stared at her.

  “Get out, Eloise. We don’t need you anymore,” Younger said bitterly. “However much is for him or me, there’s none for you. Go, while you can.”

  “You won’t get into it without me,” she said steadily.

  “Oh, yeah?” he sneered. “And then you’ll just go away?”

  She hesitated only a moment. “Or you stand here and wonder how to get into a locked box, without asking someone you’ve got to pay…or worse…share it with. Thought of that?” She raised her eyebrows with both curiosity and sarcasm in her expression.

  “What do you want for it?” Oldham asked. He took a step toward her.

  “To walk away,�
�� she answered. “With the boy.”

  “That’ll cost you double.”

  “Double what?” she asked. “Two nothings is nothing! I’ll get the box open for you.” She coughed as the dust caught in her throat.

  “Open it,” Oldham roared at her.

  She turned round to Worm, who was about a yard behind her. “You go now,” she told him very seriously. “You have to promise me, and keep your word, or they won’t let me go. Do you understand? Do you know what a promise is?”

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  “You can keep a promise?”

  “Yes…”

  “Open the damn thing!” Younger shouted at her. “What’s all this bleedin’ dust in here!”

  “It’s just flour,” Oldham snapped back at him. “Shut up, and bring the box.”

  “Worm!” Eloise said sharply. “Promise! You’ve got to go…now!”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I’ve got to worry about them, not you. Go!”

  Slowly he turned and walked away, but the moment he was in the shadows he stopped and looked back. Then after a pause, he crept round the side, toward where Squeaky had been, and looked over.

  Eloise was standing near the box, and she had something in her hand with a sharp point. She kneeled down and put the point into a hole at the back of the box. She moved it around for several moments; then at last the lid opened.

  Oldham snatched the box from her and put his hand inside it. He pulled out a piece of metal. It was gray, dull.

  “It’s lead!” he shouted in disgust. He threw it away and thrust his hand back in. He pulled out another gray piece. “What’s this?” he yelled at Eloise.

  She took a step back, and then another. “It’s pewter,” she replied. “He was a pewter smith, remember?”

  Younger snatched the box from Oldham and turned it upside down.

  Worm could see that the box must be heavy. No wonder they had believed there was gold in it!

  Eloise was slowly moving away from them.

  Oldham hit the box and swore. Younger snatched it from him again and hit it hard.