clicked on the flashlight and raised its beam. The showroom had been stripped to a few piles of mildewed carpet tiles and some battered old shelf units. It smelled bad - damp and sickly. From far above them came the drone of heavy rain and the warble of sheltering pigeons. They reached the foot of the stairs and started up.
'I wanna make sure they cleared everything out. Barney couldn't get here this morning, his wife's sick or something.' Barney was an ex-bouncer and former prison warden whose aggressive temperament perfectly qualified him for his position as Marrick's site manager.
Unpleasant things happened in Marrick's company that Jonathan did not know about, that he could not allow himself to discover. Not if he wanted to keep his job and his sanity.
Although Marrick was young, he was considerably overweight; the stairs were already defeating him. He reached the second-floor landing and looked up through the centre of the stairwell, catching his breath.
'You can check out the top two floors, Jon, make sure we ain't got any squatters in. Fucking hell, it stinks in here.'
Jonathan stopped on the staircase and stared out of the rain-streaked window into the centre of the block, where the backs of the buildings met.
Rooms. Something odd about the rooms. He studied the brick walls of the courtyard formed by the other properties. He felt as if he had a cold coming on. Getting his jacket so wet hadn't helped matters. He should have bought himself a new umbrella. He sneezed hard, wiped his nose on a tissue. Spots of dark blood, a crimson constellation. He looked from the window again. The bricks. That's what it was. The bricks to the right of the window. They were in the wrong place. There should have been an empty space there. It was marked on the map, but not there from the window.
There was one room too many.
'Adrian, come and look at this a minute.' He beckoned Marrick down and pointed from the glass. 'There shouldn't be another room in the centre-well. The old wall to the right, do you see?'
'Yeah, so?'
'It's not on the plans.'
'Why would that be?'
The brickwork was ancient, and the spaces between the blackened bricks were filled with bedraggled weeds. Near the top of the wall was a tiny window less than a foot long. There was no glass in it, just a single iron bar running across the gap. Jonathan frowned, trying to understand.
'The 1933 plans were drawn over much older ones, but when they traced the new buildings in, they didn't add the existing layout.'
'So what was there before?'
'I don't know. The original drawings have been lost, misfiled somewhere.'
Marrick looked at him as if he was going senile. 'I'm not following you, Jon.'
'There was another building already here at the centre of the site, or at least part of one. A very old one. Look at the bricks. There must be an entrance to it.'
'Wait, before you go off on a fucking treasure hunt, how about we finish what we came here to do?'
'This building has been cleared.' Jonathan scrubbed his fist across the filthy pane.
'We have to find a way into that room.'
'Why?' It was useless to assume that Marrick had a natural sense of curiosity, so Jonathan appealed to his greed. 'It could have been sealed off for years. There might be something of value in there.'
'If there was, it was probably nicked years ago. Someone's bound to have been in there already.'
'I think that's unlikely. There's no immediate access, and it looks like it belongs to part of another building. It's hard to even see.'
'Hmm. You have a point there.' They both started looking for a doorway. There was nothing on any of the landings, or on the second floor. At the bottom of the stairs they found a door leading to a basement, but it was locked and there was no key. Marrick picked up a chunk of discarded pipe and smashed at the lock until the damp wood around it splintered and fell away.
'Fucking hell! What died?' Marrick waved a hand in front of his nose.
'Shine your torch down
'I wanna make sure they cleared everything out. Barney couldn't get here this morning, his wife's sick or something.' Barney was an ex-bouncer and former prison warden whose aggressive temperament perfectly qualified him for his position as Marrick's site manager.
Unpleasant things happened in Marrick's company that Jonathan did not know about, that he could not allow himself to discover. Not if he wanted to keep his job and his sanity.
Although Marrick was young, he was considerably overweight; the stairs were already defeating him. He reached the second-floor landing and looked up through the centre of the stairwell, catching his breath.
'You can check out the top two floors, Jon, make sure we ain't got any squatters in. Fucking hell, it stinks in here.'
Jonathan stopped on the staircase and stared out of the rain-streaked window into the centre of the block, where the backs of the buildings met.
Rooms. Something odd about the rooms. He studied the brick walls of the courtyard formed by the other properties. He felt as if he had a cold coming on. Getting his jacket so wet hadn't helped matters. He should have bought himself a new umbrella. He sneezed hard, wiped his nose on a tissue. Spots of dark blood, a crimson constellation. He looked from the window again. The bricks. That's what it was. The bricks to the right of the window. They were in the wrong place. There should have been an empty space there. It was marked on the map, but not there from the window.
There was one room too many.
'Adrian, come and look at this a minute.' He beckoned Marrick down and pointed from the glass. 'There shouldn't be another room in the centre-well. The old wall to the right, do you see?'
'Yeah, so?'
'It's not on the plans.'
'Why would that be?'
The brickwork was ancient, and the spaces between the blackened bricks were filled with bedraggled weeds. Near the top of the wall was a tiny window less than a foot long. There was no glass in it, just a single iron bar running across the gap. Jonathan frowned, trying to understand.
'The 1933 plans were drawn over much older ones, but when they traced the new buildings in, they didn't add the existing layout.'
'So what was there before?'
'I don't know. The original drawings have been lost, misfiled somewhere.'
Marrick looked at him as if he was going senile. 'I'm not following you, Jon.'
'There was another building already here at the centre of the site, or at least part of one. A very old one. Look at the bricks. There must be an entrance to it.'
'Wait, before you go off on a fucking treasure hunt, how about we finish what we came here to do?'
'This building has been cleared.' Jonathan scrubbed his fist across the filthy pane.
'We have to find a way into that room.'
'Why?' It was useless to assume that Marrick had a natural sense of curiosity, so Jonathan appealed to his greed. 'It could have been sealed off for years. There might be something of value in there.'
'If there was, it was probably nicked years ago. Someone's bound to have been in there already.'
'I think that's unlikely. There's no immediate access, and it looks like it belongs to part of another building. It's hard to even see.'
'Hmm. You have a point there.' They both started looking for a doorway. There was nothing on any of the landings, or on the second floor. At the bottom of the stairs they found a door leading to a basement, but it was locked and there was no key. Marrick picked up a chunk of discarded pipe and smashed at the lock until the damp wood around it splintered and fell away.
'Fucking hell! What died?' Marrick waved a hand in front of his nose.
'Shine your torch down
Similar Books
