Episode # 7
Return To The Old Mine
The hospital room was dim, the only light a flickering bulb that cast more shadows than illumination. Inspector Normandy’s silhouette was just another shade in the gloom, but her voice was clear and tinged with frustration. “I can’t find my sergeant anywhere.”
I turned from Will’s silent form, my mind racing. “The sergeant’s missing, the manuscript’s stolen, and Will’s here with a head wound that’s no accident. It’s like someone’s playing a game of chess with us, Inspector.”
She nodded, her eyes reflecting the storm within. “And we’re the pawns, Bard. But pawns can become queens if they reach the other side. We need to make our next move.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her analogy. “Then let’s not dawdle. The old mine, where Simon’s body was found, it’s our next board square.”
The night was a cloak as we made our way to the mine, the air thick with the scent of pine and a hint of danger. The entrance loomed like a mouth ready to swallow us whole.
Inside, the beam from Normandy’s flashlight danced across the walls, revealing veins of quartz that had lured so many to their doom. “Here,” she said, kneeling by a rock. “This was overlooked.”
A pouch, weathered by time, lay hidden beneath the stone. Inside, relics of Charla—a wallet, a faded photograph, a note. “Meet me at the old mine tonight. I have something to show you.” The words were a whisper from the past, a siren’s call.
“Charla was lured here,” I murmured, the pieces falling into place. “But by whom? And why?”
Normandy stood, her gaze steely. “We print the poem, Bard. We shake the tree and see what falls out.”
Back at the station, I set the type with a sense of urgency. The verses of ‘Chalice of malice,’ ‘crown of thorns,’ ‘throne of bones’—they were more than just words now. They were a challenge to the darkness that held our town in its grip.
The morning paper hit the streets with the force of a revelation, the poem emblazoned on the front page. The town awoke to a mystery revived, and whispers turned to murmurs of suspicion and fear.
It wasn’t long before the shadows yielded their secrets. A figure, cloaked in guilt, emerged from the whispers. The unnamed constable, now a sergeant, his hands as dirty as the coal that lined the mine.
“You’ve played your part well, Bard,” Normandy said as we watched the sergeant being led away in cuffs. “But the game’s not over yet.”
I looked at her, the corners of my mouth turning up in a wry smile. “It never is, Inspector. But for now, we’ve cleared the board and set the stage for the next act.”
As the sun rose over the town, casting light on the truths we’d unearthed, I knew one thing for certain—the truth was a powerful ally, and in the end, it always found a way to shine through the darkness.
For all that we had uncovered there was nothing concrete to bind it all together. We wouldn’t be able to hold the sergeant long with what we had but he would be under suspicion and suspended from his job.
When I connected with Normandy again I had a head full of questions that wouldn’t allow me to lave them unanswered. As much as I did not trust the sergeant I couldn’t bring myself to believe he had worked on this all by himself. And for some reason I couldn’t even be sure he murdered Simon Bay.
“Its all foggy to me Christina. For me that means your sergeant is covering up for someone and he’s been living the life of a cop to make sure that what ever happened back then and in the present stayed covered up. I’ll make a bet someone comes to his rescue or gets rid of a compounded problem. I think we have to get him to talk.”
“You are suggesting a local conspiracy.” Normandy replied with a shadow of doubt in her tone.
“Sure smells like that to me and its going to expand. We also have to find Charla’s body or none of this fits together. Remember the lines, “In the abyss deep and dark, she’s been delivered her fate. Her body is down one of those shafts Inspector but some have caved in. We will need experts to dig the way through or this conspiracy is going to go on unchecked.”
“After we do some looking our selves Len. Go get changed. We are going into that ominous abyss. And don’t tell anyone. If the wrong person finds us out we could end up as missing as Charla.”
The next morning we stood at the adit, a gaping maw in the earth, a portal to the secrets that lay beneath. As Christine and I stood at its entrance, the weight of our task hung heavy in the air. We were about to descend into the belly of the beast, armed with nothing but our helmet lamps and a shared determination to uncover the truth.
With a nod to each other, we began our descent. The ropes creaked under our weight, echoing eerily in the vast emptiness of the mine. As we descended deeper, the world above seemed to fade away, replaced by the oppressive darkness of the mine.
Our helmet lamps cut through the darkness, revealing a world untouched by time. The walls of the mine glittered with a streak of diamonds, their brilliance a stark contrast to the surrounding gloom. Scattered around were tools, worn but not old, a silent testament to the miners who had once toiled here.
A chill ran down my spine as my lamp illuminated a boot, a skeletal foot still encased within it. The sight was macabre, yet it was the evidence we needed. We were not alone in this abyss.
Further exploration led us to a grim discovery - skeletal remains, dressed in the garb of a miner. The bones lay scattered, a macabre jigsaw puzzle that told a tale of a life abruptly ended. The identity of the person was unknown, their story lost to the depths of the mine.
As we stood there, the magnitude of our discovery sinking in, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The mine had yielded its secrets, but with them came more questions. Who was this unknown miner? What had brought them to this grim end? And most importantly, how did this all tie into the events unfolding in our town?
The mine was silent, its secrets laid bare. Yet, as we made our way back to the surface, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that we were only scratching the surface. The truth was there, buried deep within the shadows.
“The more we find the worse it gets.” I said just as we felt the shaft quiver and a rumble shying from above.
To be continued Episode # 8 next week:
