Page 31

Rob knelt beside him, testing the grating’s edge with his fingers. It lifted, with a low grinding protest that sounded far too loud in the quiet of the yard, revealing a black square of nothing, only the smell of old coal dust rising up to meet them.

‘I don’t like this,’ he murmured, shaking his head and straightening. ‘Sending a boy down a coal hole in the dark with no idea of what might be waiting for him at the bottom.’

‘I done worse,’ Billy shrugged, unbuttoning his coat. ‘I mean Bristol weren’t no garden party, wos it?’ He grinned in the dark, handing his coat and satchel to Beatrix, then looked down at the black gap in the flagstones, hesitating only the briefest of moments before adding with a little less bravado, ‘Jus’ don’t go nowhere. If I ‘oller, you come get me, even if yer ‘ave ter break the bloomin’ front door down..’

‘We won’t move an inch,’ Beatrix promised, crouching down to grip his hand once, hard, before he sat down and stuck his feet in the opening. Gripping his shoulders, Rob helped ease him down into the blackness until his arms looked as though they were going to wedge him in like a pilchard in a can. A determined wriggle, however, and he slipped downwards with a scrape of stone against wool that made Beatrix wince in a combination of fear and sympathy. What the devil were they going to do if he actually got stuck?’ And then he was gone, swallowed by the dark, the scuffle of his descent growing fainter until it stopped altogether.

The silence that followed felt much, much longer than the two or three minutes Beatrix’s watch insisted had actually passed.

‘If anything happens to him,’ Rob muttered, staring down at the small black square, ‘I don’t believe I could live with myself.’

‘Nothing is going to happen to him,’ Bea countered, with much more conviction than she actually felt. Lifting her hand, she gripped his in the dark.

As a soft thump somewhere inside the building answered her, followed by the unmistakable creak of old hinges that hadn’t been used in possibly years. Peering through the gloom, they were finally able to make out a low, narrow door slowly opening further along the wall. Seconds later, Billy’s face appeared, though it was hardly discernible being covered in soot.

‘Well, don’t jus’ stand there gawpin’,’ he hissed. ‘Get in ‘ere quick.’

Inside smelled of damp stone and coal. Shutting the door behind them, Billy left it unbolted. ‘No sense in makin’ it ‘arder fer us to get out,’ he grinned. ‘Wi a bit o’ luck they won’t notice it’s unlocked fer a good while. I don’t reckon any coal’s bin brought this way since well afore last Christmas.’

The passage he led them down was narrow enough that Rob had to duck his head, though the darkness was such that he didn’t completely arrive at their destination unscathed. After a minute, Billy paused and pointed to a darker patch of black near to the floor. ‘That’s where the coal ‘ole came out,’ he told them, ‘An’ me o’ course.’ Then he pushed open a second door, equally low, and they stepped out into a small inner hall. There were three doors.

‘Reckon that’s the study,’ he muttered, pointing to the door on the right – ‘there’s a bloody big bookcase in it at any rate. Don’t know where the other doors lead.’ His tone told exactly how much restraint he’d shown in not actually having a look, and Beatrix didn’t have the heart to reprimand him for his language. In truth, she’d been saying very similar words under her breath since they’d started this mad venture.

Well aware that time was not on their side, Rob quickly stepped past his companions and pushed open the door Billy had pointed to. For a second, he stared into the shadows, allowing his eyes to adjust. To his left was a large fireplace, its grate empty. Beyond that, an ornate grandfather clock ticked off the seconds loudly in the corner. An old, well-used desk was shoved under the window opposite, then entirely covering the wall to his right was the bookcase. Every bit as large as Billy had intimated.

Shrugging off his coat, Rob strode straight over to the bookcase and began running his hands along its edges with the methodical patience exhibited by members of the legal profession the world over.

In the end, it took all three of them working together to ease first one side of the heavy case back from the wall, and then the other. Behind it, exactly as promised, was a section of panelling that didn’t quite match its neighbours, the grain running a fraction out of true to anyone who troubled to look closely.

Rob’s pocketknife found the seam on the second attempt, the panel giving way with hardly a sound, swinging inwards on a hidden hinge to reveal a shallow strongroom no larger than a small wardrobe. It was lined with shelves of ledgers as well as a couple of boxes.

For a moment all three simply stared into the dark cavity, daunted by the overflow of paper, which of course could turn out to be nothing untoward at all.

‘We’ll take one shelf at a time,’ Rob declared after a few seconds. ‘Billy, see if you can find a lamp that’s not likely to set the place ablaze if we try to light it.’

‘’Ow the ‘ell will I know whether it’ll set the whole place on fire?’ the boy protested. ‘I ain’t no expert on gas lamps.’

‘Then look for a couple of candles,’ Bea told him, pulling open the window drapes to bring in a little light.

Reaching up, Rob lifted down the topmost ledger. Laying the book on the large desk under the window, he turned to Billy, who handed him two candles off the mantelpiece along with the box of friction matches he’d found beside them. Seconds later, soft light bloomed, and Beatrix hurriedly drew the curtains again.

Holding the first ledger near to the lighted candles, Rob opened it to the first page which was headed Society for the Advancement of Industrious Children. Placements and Transport, current quarter.

On the next page were columns of dates, sums and destinations – very similar to those they found in Bristol – except that here they’d not even attempted to disguise names.

‘We haven’t got nearly enough time to go through all of this,’ Rob breathed, shaking his head, squinting as his eyes travelled down the ledger. After a few seconds, he drew in his breath, and Beatrix, next to him, felt his entire body tense.

Without speaking, she leaned forward and looked to where his finger was pointing.

Thomas Callahan. They looked at each other, but there was no time to read any more. He simply tore out the sheet, put it into his pocket and pulled down the next ledger.

The next half dozen ledgers proved to be more of the same, going back nearly seven years. ‘How long has this damn business been going on?’ he muttered in disgust. Despite discovering his godson’s name, he couldn’t help being disheartened due to the sheer volume of information. Beatrix, feeling exactly the same, went to the next shelf, only to find the ledgers there full of insurance details with no mention of the Society.

Meanwhile the grandfather clock continued to remind them just how quickly the time was passing as it chimed every fifteen minutes and two o’clock drew steadily closer.

‘There’s no way we can take all this with us,’ Bea declared, her heated whisper revealing her frustration. ‘We need to find something we can use.’ Fighting the urge to kick something, she watched as Rob pulled down the first of the boxes. Laying it down on the table, he pried open the lid, picking up the candle to look down at the contents.

For a second he was silent, then he looked over at her, unable to hide his excitement. ‘I think this is the original Trust Deed for the Society.’