The Lost Treasure Map Series (21 page)

Many shifted fast, staying warm, moving from
their positions, as they approached, and looked forced into
accepting their intimidations.

There were no signs that showed that anyone
had been near there in a long time.

The graveyard shrouded in snow took the
appearance of heaven, with its brilliant whiteness. The castle not
being there also gave him feelings of it.

They struggled through a jungle of
withered weeds, buried in thick snow, going between the graves,
giving brief glances at their dates and words, and occasionally
stopping to look at them in more detail
–
at things of interest.

Mortimer now looked moderately happy
there.

The taxi driver had taken them to the right
place after all. It was the oldest church, and most likely
graveyard to have what they wanted.

The taxi rested beyond the church
gates, with the driver still flicking ash out of the window, giving
them nervous glances. He occasionally glared directly towards them,
thinking of some fact
–
true or imagined.

As Bryson read the engraved phrases on a
grave, almost buried in moss and dirt, he realized how much the
driver had astonished him.

He knew that it was not his normal
reactions, and that he was reacting to them being in his presence,
because they were from the castle.

He had not known how to start communicating
with them. He had been more than likely thinking of many things
that he had wanted to say and had not known where to start. He
seemed to be considering warning them of something! He had
suggested that he knew of things that they ought to know. It had
been more like a joke though.

He realized that he might know legends. He
seemed to know people that lived about the estate.

He had given many suggestions that he
had wished to obtain information from them
–
on what was happening
there, with it being in the news.

As Bryson observed the driver, at a
distance, as they examined different graves, he caught his
attention more.

What would it be? Yet Sir Richard
might have affected them, or had persuaded people to do it for
him
–
to
scare away outsiders. But he doubted it! And nobody had ever said
that he had done anything like that.

“
This one has the same date as William
Randall
’s
grave,
”
Mortimer announced, over at his side, grabbing his attention
away from the distant landscape, where his eyesight kept
falling.

Bryson crouched in the long grass. It
was someone who had been at the village at the same time, but there
were few words there
–
mentioning things that were not what they
were looking for. He knew by Mortimer
’s
reactions that he had already
finished with it.

And Bryson realized that Mortimer had lost
confidence in there being anything there.

Their stroll gradually increased to a fast
walk, with them only glimpsing at dates and names.

Then they returned to the taxi.

The driver was patiently waiting on
them.

“
Did you find what you were
after?
”
he
called back, watching their faces in the mirror, and looking about
the road ahead, checking it going into the horizon.

“
No,
”
Bryson replied, since nobody else
was going to reply.
“
We are looking for more stuff about the
castle. Do you know if there
’s
somewhere else, like a library, where we
can get it?
”

A loud squeak came from his seat, making him
turn his head, and look very alert.

The vicar then stuck his head out of the
church. Then, as the taxi engine burst into life, he shut the door,
and the taxi pulled away.

“
I cannot help you
–
as you will find very
little about it ... I
’ve
lived here all my life
...
”

He glanced at him in the mirror, and
adjusted it slightly, to a precise position.

Bryson saw that he had changed from what he
had been like on the way there, and he did not want to say any
more.

Chapter 41

Deadly Blizzard

The taxi raced down the dark road, through
the heavy blizzard, going deep into the thick wood, and skidded on
the snow as it went around a bend, while the new driver tried to
catch up with some police cars.

The deep snow glowed brightly in the light
from the headlights, beaming out, and Bryson saw many more police
cars parked along the road.

It was night, and he was tired from the
evening spent at the village, and the sudden confrontation on the
small road, just as they were about to reach the castle, was
unwelcome.

The car approached the police cars and
skidded to a halt, behind them, and they jumped out.

In the distance, from where the taxi had
come from, he saw three more police cars, and what looked like two
normal cars, all racing towards him.

Inspector Bailey was standing playing with a
loudspeaker.

“
Let
’s
spread out!
”
he hollered, through it,
with it blaring out at full volume. And he stopped to turn the
volume down (looking like he wanted to throw it away
instead).

Another policeman took it, and started use
it to speak for him, telling them to come over to him.

“
What happened?
”
Mortimer asked
desperately
–
now not understanding the situation
–
and then noticing that they were
not really listening.

“
If we search along this stretch of
road, all of us should easily find their trail.
”
Inspector Bailey firmly
announced.

Inspector Bailey played around with the
loudspeaker again, making sure that he did not touch the
volume.

“
We
’re
going to search along this
road,
”
he
muttered to Mortimer.
“
So look for any footprints!
”

Everyone started clambering through
the snow, going along the road, in different groups. Bryson
searched the inner wood, while the others around him looked about
the road
–
generally searching places that they believed the others were
not searching.

The other cars reached the cars, and the
policemen in them started climbing out, chatting loudly, about what
was happening.

Eventually, a distant shout came from behind
them, and all of them made their way to there.

Bryson took the opportunity to question him
further.

“
What
’s
happened? Who
’re
you
after?
”

“
Has the killer struck
again?
”
Mortimer continued.

“
Are you chasing
him?
”
Merton tried to resume.

“
We could be! We
’re
searching for some of the
women. They
’ve
vanished! And there
’s
a possibility, according to the others,
that they
’ve
come up against him.
”

“
Or they
’re lost out there – in this
blizzard
!
”
Merton continued.

Bryson listened horrified! He knew one of
the women was Sarah by their reactions. And he started to prepare
himself for what was to come.

“
So spread out,
”
Inspector Bailey
shouted,
“
and tell us immediately, if you find
them.
”

The policemen were entering the wood,
with their torches jumping about, lighting up the dense trees. And
Bryson
’s
heart pounded, as he waited for them to yell that they had
found their mutilated bodies.

But their lights vanished into the wood, and
their voices grew faint, until he could not hear them. By the time
Bryson, Mortimer, Merton, and Inspector Bailey reached where they
had been, they were deep in the wood, and increasing their
speed.

Bryson examined the footprints at the
side of the road, untouched by them. They definitely were theirs.
Sarah
’s
shoe mark was there! Moreover, all three were
women
’s
shoe marks, and that was the correct amount of prints, for
the group that she had been in.

Bryson raced after them, through the
trees.

This time it felt as though the rest of
their walks had been training.

In minutes, they were rushing through
branches, dodging trees, in almost complete blackness
–
with the vague
lights jumping about everywhere, in front and behind.

Bryson received bruises and cuts everywhere.
His lower legs were soaked, in pools of icy mud and water.

Heavy breathing, and clouds of steam, poured
out of their mouths.

He became sure that they were going to find
something ahead of them, as he could not see them going at the pace
that they were going at for very long; but he had not heard
anything to confirm it.

When they continued on and on, he started to
doubt that they had anything, and that they were either wrong or
desperate. However, after he had seen the situation in front, he
took it that they were just racing.

Did they actually know how long ago the
prints had been there? He had been sure that they could tell fresh
prints. But he doubted it, and they could be miles away, lost in
the wood, trying to return from some other angle.

They had all day, but they had obviously
been strolling through the wood.

Nonetheless, had they become so tired that
they could not make it back?

Bryson slowed as some of the policemen in
front got more and more exhausted, and finally allow them to
pass.

Their pace finally started to slow, at
the front, as the wood went dense. And they continued at a more
normal pace, almost as if the ones at the front had finally
realized what they had already known
–
that they could be going through
there for hours.

Bryson was now able to move himself to
a position near the front, where he stayed watching the policemen
at the front of the group rushing on
–
not fully knowing what they were
doing.

Bryson stayed at his position, not really
knowing the policemen, and having no real need to get involved.

He remained at a distance that he could see
the footprints that they came to.

Bryson spotted the policemen stopping, and
he slowed.

The prints went off in another direction,
directly to their left.

He believed that they had not fully known
where they had been.

How could they be lost with their
prints always being behind them? They had to have had some idea
where they had been going
–
and that they would not have dramatically
changed their direction, to go over there, if they had not had a
reason.

Yet they might have become too tired or
something, to return. If one of them had injured her leg, what
would they have done?

He observed everything in detail, but saw
little. But he was sure that they would have returned to the road
...

Yet, later on, they might have later become
so tired and far out that they might have gone somewhere to
shelter.

At this moment they could be even trying to
return here, if they had not found any shelter.

Bryson was confused, and no longer
really knew where they were, as nothing was ahead of them, and they
were endlessly going on; and he came to the conclusion that he did
not fully realize what they had been up to
–
going this far into the
wood.

What were they expecting to find? Why had
they not just stayed in the radius of the castle, where the rest of
them had been? What sort of information would they have expected to
discover? What would Sir Richard have been doing out at this place?
The hunt was turning to a disaster before his eyes.

He tried to imagine what sorts of ideas had
been running through their heads. But he could not imagine any of
them having come out with such an idea unless they had found
something that had given them definite proof that something was in
this region.

To his sudden horror, the policemen stopped
dead. Their behavior showed that something had occurred.

Bryson blindly shifted to them
–
waiting to
witness a detestable sight.

But he could barely see in the dimness, and
he listened to hear the voices of the police grow to an audible
level, as he moved near.

“
We can go back now
...
”
the
policeman moaned.

Then he heard one of them using a radio or
mobile, communicating with someone, while the others listened.

“
What is it?
”
Mortimer called, from behind his
back, proceeding fast to him.