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The Great Mystifique & Butterfly Farm, House of Horror
The Great Mystifique & Butterfly Farm, House of Horror
The Great Mystifique & Butterfly Farm, House of Horror
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The Great Mystifique & Butterfly Farm, House of Horror

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This novel is set in the West Midlands in the latter part of 2019 and early 2020. There is an unknown missing person, who is not missing, then missing again, then not missing. Another missing person who reappears sixty years later not having aged at all. A house that reveals its grisly secret after forty years. Two drug related deaths, but who is implicated? An experienced officer investigates. He has his preconceptions severely tested as he is taken out of his comfort zone. All characters are purely fictional and are not based on persons living or dead. Mild adult themes. Reader discretion advised.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateMay 5, 2023
ISBN9781447751960
The Great Mystifique & Butterfly Farm, House of Horror

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    The Great Mystifique & Butterfly Farm, House of Horror - Norman Williams

    THE

    GREAT MYSTIFIQUE

    &

    BUTTERFLY FARM

    (HOUSE OF HORROR)

    +

    +

    +

    ISBN 978-1-4477-5196-0

    Imprint: Lulu.com

    Copyright 2023 Norman Williams

    MY DREAM

    The sun was high in the cloudless blue sky. There was no breeze. It was the hottest day of the summer. Just the type of weather to be on holiday. Speculation centred on our upcoming holiday. Where would our new car take the family this year?

    The air conditioning was off. Both side windows were open as I enjoyed the breeze entering the cockpit. The car coasted effortlessly along the motorway. There was the temptation to increase the speed, but the leisurely pace, just below the speed limit, was perfect.

    It had been a brilliant purchase earlier that lunchtime. The car was just over three years old. It was well over the average mileage for its age. The salesperson had seemed a little over keen to sell it. It was a snip at the price. It was, however, in showroom condition. Everything appeared immaculate, including the engine. The car purchase was on a whim. I immediately decided to take it for a spin, warning my partner I would be a little later than expected. A state of blissful ecstasy invaded me. The car was surpassing all expectations.

    The undulating countryside passed by on either side. The brow of the incline approached. On the far side, the motorway stretched way into the distance. It disappeared on the horizon in the heat haze. There was a tinge of concern for a moment. Not a vehicle was on the road ahead. Nothing approached from the other side. A quick glance in the rear view mirror confirmed there was nothing behind either. An icy cold sensation crept up my neck. The lack of traffic was very unusual on such a beautiful afternoon. Both sides of the motorway were totally devoid of traffic. It was unusual on an English motorway at any time of year, day or night.

    The distant heat haze ahead was replaced by thick ground level rolling white clouds. It was so thick that it resembled cotton wool. It stretched to the left and right as far as the eye could see. It approached rapidly. A quick glance in my rear view mirror confirmed the same phenomenon. Now I was in total panic. Surely this could not be happening on such a gorgeous day. It must be a dream. Soon I would awaken. Now I was freaking out.

    Lifting my foot from the accelerator pedal I tried to reduce the speed. No result. Releasing the clutch there was still no result. Gentle application of the foot break did no good. Pressing harder I almost lifted myself off the seat. There was still no response. Lastly, applying the handbrake had no effect. None of the car’s controls were working.

    Looking at my watch, I could not decipher the dial. The mobile phone beside me was of no use either. It was at that moment I realised there was no response from the steering wheel. Turning it slightly in both directions produced no movement on the road. Then there was the silence. No wind rushing in from the open windows. No sound of tyres on the tarmac or jolting from the occasional pot hole. Even more concerning, not a sound from the engine. Yet the car appeared to maintain the same speed. The dashboard obscured by the sun meant I could not see my speed. There was the sensation of the car floating in the air.

    Suddenly everything was obscured. The thick white fog enveloped the car. Nothing was visible beyond the windscreen. Was the car moving or stationary, I could not tell. Would the driver’s door open? It would not budge. Then the feeling of relief. If the car were moving that would have been a reckless move. Now everything went black. It was as if I had gone blind. Total blackness. The car headlights illuminated almost immediately. The white fog looked even more sinister. Visibility was still no further than the windscreen. The dash board, now illuminated through the white mist, showed no dials. The car was totally in the hands of an outside force.

    As quickly as it had enveloped the car, the fog disappeared. It was still black outside illuminated by the headlights. A thick dense growth of trees rushed towards the car. Waiting for the impact my eyes closed involuntarily as I slouched forward waiting for the impact. Nothing happened. Opening my eyes I saw massive tree trunks and branches crashing soundlessly into the car. They disappeared to be replaced by others. Not a sound. No jolting or jarring. No breaking of glass. It was as if the trees were not there, yet there was no clear path for the car to travel.

    It ended as soon as it had begun. No more trees. Just a forbidding open dark space. The car came to a halt. The headlights went out. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Flickering lights shone in the distance. As my eyes adjusted, the flickering lights began to look like windows.

    Civilisation!!  I thought to myself in relief.

    Going to release the seat belt I realised it had been undone all along. Trying the door it now opened. Lowering myself to the ground my legs were weak. They felt like jelly. Trying to walk, a tangle of undergrowth grabbed my ankles and I fell to my knees. Plant growth cushioned the fall, the impact still hurt my knees. Getting back to my feet shaken I could see nothing in the darkness. I had to trust in luck. Gingerly I was walking towards the building with illuminated windows ahead.

    Nearing the flickering lighted windows I heard the sound of talking, shouting and singing. There appeared to be no glass in the frames. Just wooden shutters. Looking through the cracks in the shutters through the nearest window I saw a haze of smoke filling the room. Shadowy figures moving around while others sat at crude wooden benches, glasses raised to drink. A figure carrying a jug was replenishing empty glasses. It was an ale house, like nothing I had ever seen before.

    Continuing to skirt the building I tried to find an entrance. Then the realisation of how extremely fatigued I had become. Legs weak, barely supported me. Turning a corner I came across a door. Searching the surface in the dark I found a large cold metal knob and hesitated. The suspense was extreme. Blood rushed to my ears with a throbbing sensation as my heart pounded. As much as I needed to rest, what was going to greet me inside? Finally I turned the knob and opened the door.

    Stepping inside, the air had the stench of stale beer and smoke. Clouds of smoke billowed from the fire mixed with aromatic tobacco smoke. The noise of chatter, laughter and singing was almost deafening. The far end of the room was almost obliterated through the haze. The figures around me looked indistinct and shadowy dressed all in black. They paid no attention to me. The naked flames of candles cast weird flickering shadows on the walls. A figure shrouded in a black cloak-like garment approached. The face was hidden by a hood but the mannerism and stoop was that of an elderly person. Not a word was uttered as this person turned signalling me to follow. It was as if I had been anticipated. I did so as if in a trance, powerless to resist. Not a word spoken, although I desperately wanted to. The need for sleep became ever more overwhelming.

    The further into the bar we went the more claustrophobic the air became. The smoke and beer joined by stale sweat and urine. Never have I experienced such a gut wrenching stench. The shadowy figures paid no attention to me as I passed by.

    At the back to the right was a staircase. The treads were worn and uneven. They should have made a sound. But the figure ahead  just seemed to glide up to the first floor. I found myself ascending without my legs appearing to move. At the top we turned left onto a balcony overlooking the bar area. The area below looked even more eery with the thick smoke and flickering shadows.

    The corridor ahead was dark, lit only by a solitary candle at the far end. The figure had somehow acquired a candle to light our way. The floor was uneven as if trying to trip me up. The candle flame lit up dark wooden panels on either side as we passed. There were numbered doors on each side. The low ceiling was a whitish colour. There was no other decoration. We stopped at the end of the panelled corridor. A door on the right opened. It creaked very, very loudly.

    Following, I entered the room. The candle went onto a shelf opposite a single bed and suddenly I was alone. The door to the corridor was closed. The room was damp, chilly and had a distinct musty smell. The urge to complain was strong but I could not move. There had been better accommodation in the slums of London.

    I took stock of the room, although in truth there was nothing to take stock of. Opposite the door the open window looked out into total blackness. There was no breeze from the window. The floor was bare board. No rug, no carpet, no table, no chair. The only item of furniture was the bed. A rough textured sheet covered a thin mattress filled with straw. Stem ends poked through the fabric covering. There was no pillow. Folded at the foot of the bed was a coarse rough blanket. It again felt cold and damp to touch. Everything was totally inhospitable.

    Another panic overtook me. Inside the car were my jacket and wallet. The keys were still in the ignition and the car unlocked. Instinctively I felt the need to go back and retrieve them. Renavigating the bar area filled me with terror. The need for sleep was all consuming. It would have to wait till morning. My folded  trousers were hung on the floor with my shoes. My T-shirt, pants and socks might help to ward off  some of the dampness and cold. Lying on the bed I drew the blanket up around my shoulders. The room spun slightly and then sleep overtook. A deep, deep dark dreamless sleep.

    The room was still dark. A pale flickering light showed from the skylight over the door as I stood up. Moving to the door I opened it. The light was gone. The corridor was dark with a pale eerie glow from the bar area. The balcony neared as I walked towards it. Down in the bar a solitary candle flickered by the boarded window. The flickering flame animated the light on the walls. The open fire still smouldered but the smoke in the room had subsided. The raucous noise of earlier still faintly echoed around the bar. Leaning over the gallery rail to see more I felt myself falling. Falling,  falling and falling and………..

    A violent bounce awoke me. The sense of relief realising it had been a bad dream. It took a brief moment to realise where I was. The bed was warm and clammy. The mattress was still hard and spiky. The room was pitch black; the candle long extinguished. How long had I slept? There was no illumination from my watch. It had been a deep sleep and even allowing for the nightmare I felt fully refreshed once more.

    Sitting up I tried to remember. Feeling around there was the wall beside the bed, nothing on the other side. No bedside table. Then I remembered the room with no furniture. Surely that was part of the dream. No? Turning round I lowered my feet to the floor. The boards felt cold through the socks, rough and uneven. Outstretching my arms I stood up swinging them around to the right and then the left. They touched nothing. Reaching down I felt the bed again. What now?

    Had I gone blind overnight? Panic once more set in. I felt trapped and needed to get away. Then I remembered. The coat and wallet, mobile phone and car keys. A sense of urgency spurred me on. I was desperate to get back to the car.

    Shoes and trousers? They were on the floor. Shuffling gingerly I tried to locate them. Turning inching one way then turning and inching the other way. Losing count of the number of times I did this I had nothing to show. Now I had lost the bed, my only focal point. Reaching down I tried to find the bed. Standing upright my shins made painful contact first. Relief filled me through the pain. At least I knew where I was in the room.

    Turning with my back to the bed I found the wall opposite. The candle and shelf; where were they? No amount of searching would locate them. Turning to the right I carefully made my way to where the window was. The shutters now fastened but open when I went to sleep. I tried but there was no way I could find to open them in the dark. Turning I carefully made my way to the far wall. The floorboards were painful on my feet. Going very slowly and carefully with arms outstretched it seemed to take forever. At last I made contact. Now I had to find the door. Moving slowly to the left I found it. What was the opening mechanism? A latch, handle or knob. What was it? At last I found it. A latch. Lifting it the door started to open. The hinges let out the most almighty screeching creak. I froze in horror; surely it was enough to wake the dead.

    No one stirred. Sighing deeply with relief I continued to open the door. The long loud wailing creak continued. Stepping out into the corridor the solitary candle had long since gone out. The acrid heady smell of smoke, alcohol and other things still hung faintly in the air. Towards the balcony a feint light showed. I started towards it. The floorboards were still rough and uneven. Splinters stung my feet. The boards creaked and groaned as they took my weight.

    Reaching the balcony overlooking the bar I saw one solitary candle by the shuttered window. The smoke had long since dissipated but the acrid smell lingered. The faint sound of chatter and singing hung in the air, the sound caught in the walls. A new sound, rustling, seemed to come from under the balcony. Leaning over the rail to see better there was a splintering cracking sound. The floor rushed towards me in a blur as I fell head first towards the flagstones below.

    Then total blackness…….."

    CHAPTER 1

    D. I. Braxter sat at his desk head in hands, a blank screen in front of him. His mind roamed in thoughts of the previous few days. He was a high flyer in the force rising swiftly through the ranks. A gentle giant with a steely determination and keen mind. A placid temperament with an occasional fiery flash point with no apparent trigger. He had been diagnosed as autistic when younger and was not known for his empathy. He was also not known for being sociable. His fashion sense appalled his young family. His idea of comfort was smart casual. A tweed jacket with leather elbows, cream casual trousers and brown brogues. A throwback to the seventies, a standard he expected of everyone he worked with. An aura of the scent of aromatic pipe tobacco surrounded him.

    Lola, his wife, was totally different. Very bubbly, vivacious and glamorous. They made an odd couple. She was totally devoted to her husband. Her earlier career had been in care. This made her a suitable life partner for her husband.

    Swivelling round in his chair he looked at his notice board. A clean board. Not an unsolved case in sight except for the latest one. This case he had been working on for the best part of a week. In his hands he clutched sheets of A4 entitled My Dream. How could someone dream about their demise and in such detail? The case was just as puzzling as when he had first started. He loved puzzles, however not ones that proved impossible to solve.

    TUESDAY:

    A few days earlier four boys stood aimlessly at the kerb side. It had been a while since their football had disappeared over the fence. None of them were brave enough to ask for it back. The house owner was known as The Dragon for a very good reason. She was quite famous; maybe infamous. She had banned the milkman from parking outside her home while delivering to her. She had reported the postman for propping his bike against her fence, again while delivering to her. She had reported a group of school children to the school for gathering outside her house while waiting for the bus. It was believed she had sprinkled white powder over a neighbours fence and poisoning their cat. Nothing had been proved in this latter incident..

    Now the lads were looking for something to do.

    Dan was the oldest at thirteen. He was very much into his sports although not the brightest of pupils in his class. He was tall, lean and looked older than his thirteen years. He was very popular among his classmates. Elders warmed to him. He was very polite and caring. Reluctantly he had to tag along with his younger brother Timmy.

    Timmy loved being part of the gang. His name was Timothy, abbreviated to Tim or Timmy depending on who was talking. He hated his nickname Tiny which aptly fitted his stature. He was a cheeky youth with a smile even when getting into trouble, which he often did. His older brother towered over him. If there was any trouble Timmy would instigate it. His brother being older would get the blame. Surely he should be able to control a nine year old. Timmy had managed to install himself as leader with the annoyance of the others. Somehow he managed to get them all into trouble even when not present.

    Then there was Edward, very much overweight. He tried vainly to keep up with others. Red faced he had a wicked sense of humour. He loved all things sweet and was quite lazy, preferring to slouch in front of the television. He did however like being part of the gang. Treated a little as the outsider in class, the gang gave him a sense of belonging. When he was younger he had the nickname Teddy Tubby, a vague reference to the Teletubbies television programme. Shortened to Tubs, Edward hated all nicknames with a vengeance.

    Luke was twelve, the same age as Edward. He again was tall and lean, not really into his sports. He was the brightest in the class absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He liked nothing better than curling up with a book. Exercise was not his thing, he got enough with the gang. He had gained the nickname Stick because of his stature.

    They all liked their electronic games. Timmy tried to compete and was always frustrated that in the main, the older boys were too far ahead. The younger boy showed his hand as being ultra-competitive.

    It was Timmy who this day said Let’s go make a den.

    The others looked at each other and collectively asked Where?

    I’ll show you, he replied, suddenly full of his own importance. He remembered the previous summer and the field. On the left was a copse. On the far side was a small stream. The family had taken a picnic. He and Dan had splashed about in the stream. They had a whale of a time and it was only a short walk.

    Timmy set off. The others had no option but to follow reluctantly. He led the group to the end of the cul-de-sac.

    Not so fast puffed Edward lagging behind.

    Timmy was not listening. At the T junction the road skirted their estate with the field opposite. They turned left briefly, then right down a track. Edward was trying hard to keep up. Just inside the track was a gate to the right. Timmy squeezed through a gap in the woodwork and was off. The others had to climb over the gate and began to lag further behind. They called out to Timmy to slow down but he was on a mission. He was not listening. Edward was even further behind now calling for them all to slow down. But they were too intent on not losing Timmy.

    On the left of the field was a dense thick wooded area. It was this the group were skirting. Timmy passed a sign saying Keep out. Private. He stopped, paused, then darted into the thick undergrowth. Dan and Luke shouted in alarm. Quickly reaching the spot they followed Timmy. Luke stumbled on a wire, the remains of a broken fence. Creepers grabbed their ankles trying to trip them up. Luke was the only one wearing shorts. The growth was scratching his bare legs. The two of them blindly followed where they thought Timmy had gone.

    Edward had lost sight of his friends. He had seen them in the distance disappear into the thicket. He too saw the sign Keep out. Private. As hard as he searched he could not find a way in. He called out without any response. He began to panic. He was on his own. Had his mates even realised he was not with them?

    Meanwhile Dan and Luke pushed through the undergrowth not sure where they were going. The branches stung and the ground was damp and slippery. Then they were out in the open. A narrow clearing with a dilapidated grand looking manor house in the centre. The white concrete was grey with neglect. Ivy covered a large area of the two storey building. Partially obscured shutters were open beside the windows. Dense low undergrowth stretched to the building. To the left peeping out from the wooded area were the remains of derelict out buildings. These buildings were mainly roofless with thick undergrowth invading them. A tree was beginning to grow in one.

    Timmy stood just before them looking incredibly pleased with himself.

    Between heavy breaths the two older boys said Never …. do that ….. again!

    The main building looked completely neglected. The dark slated roof, covered in moss, looked in the main intact. A crooked chimney appeared none too stable. But was it inhabited? It certainly did not look as if it had been for a long time.

    Awe. Come on. Timmy was glowing. Look what I found. This is great.

    Did you know this was here? asked Dan a little perplexed.

    No. I saw the keep out sign.

    Timmy puffed out his chest and was off at a pace towards the building just as Dan was about to grab him. Timmy showed no fear. The other two called out for him to stop, then be careful but he was again not listening. He was on a mission. Dan and Luke had a sense of foreboding. They had the feeling this was not going to end well. Timmy disappeared from view as he turned the corner of the building. The two boys raced after him.

    As they too turned the corner they saw Timmy at a door. Pushing it open he entered. The door closed noisily behind him as they got close. They tried to open it but it was stuck fast. Further panic gripped them. They turned the knob continuously while pushing the door at the same time.

    Timmy!! they called in panic.

    Pushing with all their strength the door would not budge. Finally, reluctantly, the door creaked awkwardly open and they stepped inside. The door banged close behind them before they could stop it.

    The cracked and broken windows let in a certain amount of light. The dust and grime on the glass blocked the majority of it. It smelled rank, a mixture of rot and damp. The room felt chilly and clammy. The dim light was enough to identify a large square area with a high ceiling. A staircase at the back to the right led to a balcony. Rubble covered the stone flagged floor along with broken rotting furniture. Timmy stood in the middle of this gazing around in awe.

    Wow!! This will make a great den. No one will find us here. He was full of his own importance.

    He was about to go upstairs when Dan grabbed him by the shoulders.

    No you don’t!

    Awe. Why not?

    This is an old building. It may be unsafe. He had suddenly taken charge and was feeling very adult. Plus he felt seriously worried about their situation.

    Luke had gone ahead. Suddenly he let out a cry in alarm. Look at this!!

    Dan and Timmy picked their way to where Luke crouched just under the balcony. On the floor amid the dust and grime was a skeleton. Fragments of a broken skull lay around the head along with wooden splinters.

    The rest of the skeleton looked intact, wearing a T-shirt, pants and socks. A watch around the left wrist, a ring on the fourth finger on its right hand.

    Dan looked up to the balcony and the broken railing.

    That’s not real, exclaimed Timmy, as he darted forward to touch the skeleton.

    Dan stopped him just in time. It looks real enough to me. He had grabbed Timmy. Let’s get out of here, now! Luke nodded as Dan, still holding Timmy’s shoulder, carefully picked their way back to the door. No way would it budge. The two older boys tried singly, then together. No matter how hard they tried it made no difference. The door would not budge.

    Dan once again felt himself taking charge. The door was firmly wedged. They could try breaking one of the windows but the shards of glass left in the frame could be dangerous. There must be another way out.

    Let’s try and find another door, he suggested.

    They carefully moved towards the balcony. Luke was just holding it together. He was close to tears with fright and concern. Timmy had lost his bravado. Was he glad he had his big brother to shield and protect him? Yes, too true he was. Dan was too busy focused on getting out of the mess. He was going to have a serious word with Timmy when they got to safety….. if they got to safety!

    They skirted the skeleton and reached the corridor running under the balcony. There were more doors, to Dan’s relief. One to the right, a number down the corridor to the left and two in front of them.

    They all froze in terror. A fluttering sound greeted them.

    There must be a bird in here, Dan said firmly.

    They were about to move when footsteps sounded. One moment it sounded from overhead then down the corridor. They froze again in terror clutching each other.

    Mmmmm…………. Luke stammered, unable to speak.

    Then there was an agonised moaning sound that seemed to go on forever. Dan was keenly aware. His eyes and senses were everywhere. Now the sounds had stopped only to start again with manic laughter.

    Dan chose the door to the right. Still holding Timmy by the shoulder, he was breathing heavily. Luke followed, scared, his eyes staring behind him.

    The door was ajar. They looked inside. Then there was the fluttering sound again. They almost fell into the room with fright. It was again musty and damp. A dust cloud hung in the air. Thick dust and cobwebs were everywhere. Dark wood panels lined the walls. It looked like an old world pantry or kitchen.

    Then there were the footsteps again this time sounding overhead. They all froze again but Dan was puzzled. They started to move when the agonised moaning resumed. They froze again. Then the manic laughter.

    Dan seemed to relax a little. He looked around the room. His mum and dad were National Trust members. He had seen a number of similar rooms in properties they had visited. Not this dirty and neglected. A heavy ceramic wash basin was situated in front of the window on the far side. Broken shelving and cupboards on the wall to the right. A black rusty range just beside the doorway. A heavy wooden table in the centre of the room. A row of bells on the wall to the left. No utensils or other equipment. More importantly, no external door.

    They all froze again. The fluttering seemed to reverberate around the building.

    They trooped tentatively back into the corridor. Dan seemed more purposeful, the other two were still panicking. They needed the exit. The first door to the right was locked. The next door led into what looked like a vestibule. Once again the footsteps echoed. The room was empty save for a rickety table, with drawers, on the left. The room had a grimy patterned tiled floor. The walls were dark panelled with clothes hooks on the right. At the far side were double doors with frosted patterned glass panels. The grimy glass allowed a limited amount of daylight to shine through. But it was daylight and they were doors! Dan felt instant relief.

    Then they froze as the moaning resumed. Luke rushed for the door.

    Please let it be open sighed Dan. His relief turning to anxiety.

    The large door knob turned. Reluctantly the double doors opened. The hinges groaned and creaked. They stepped out onto a raised terrace. Behind them was the sound of manic laughter. The warm air was welcome as it hit them after the damp chill of the interior. The stone slabs were uneven and infilled with a thick growth of weeds. Grass encrusted stone steps led down unevenly, to what once would have been the garden area. The dense growth of trees and bushes grew close to the house, surrounding it.

    That …… was ….. meant to …… scare us Dan panted.

    It worked! said Luke, almost sobbing. What was it?

    Timmy darted off down the steps. He slipped on the undergrowth and recovered. Suddenly his bravado had returned. Dan ordered him to stop. Once again Timmy was not listening. He ran to the right and turned the corner, disappearing from view.

    Dan felt his frustration turn to anger. He and Luke swiftly followed. Turning the corner they saw Timmy by a vegetation growth in the centre of what was once a flower bed. Timmy was parting the tall growth and inching in.

    What do you think you’re doing!? shouted Dan angrily.

    It’s a car! screeched Timmy in delight. And I found it, he crowed

    Leave it! shouted Dan.

    He had reached Timmy and pulled him off. It was a bright red car surrounded by tall growth. The growth looked as though it had surrounded the car for years. The car itself looked brand new. None of the vegetation was flattened, apart from the area where Timmy had trampled.

    Awe! Timmy squealed. It’s mine. I found it. He struggled frantically but Dan held him close.

    No you don’t!

    Ow! You’re hurting me squealed Timmy.

    You’ll hurt even more if you don’t stop struggling. Let’s get away now said Dan sternly. But which way? He looked around, then in alarm and said to Luke. Have you seen Edward?

    No. He wasn’t with us when we entered the house. Luke’s trepidation returned.

    Dan called out his name to no effect. Let’s hope he’s waiting for us. He listened intently. Which way to go? With his back to the house the overgrown flower bed was in front of him. The sound of the motorway was also ahead. They had to go in the opposite direction to the motorway. Dan was still holding Timmy by the shoulder. They turned at the corner and passed the door that they had entered. They again turned right and were back where they had come into the garden.

    Calling out to Edward again, there was no response.

    Dan shook his head. I hope he’s not still in the house. He had half a mind to go back, then relented.

    They pushed their way through the thick wooded undergrowth. Panic set in. They kept calling Edward’s name. It seemed a lot further going back. No matter how painful the undergrowth was they had to get out. At last there was a plaintiff whining response from Edward. He had waited for them. He was afraid they would not return. He was even more afraid of the response if he got home without them. They broke through into the open field. There was Edward waiting for them. He looked as if he had been crying.

    Where have you been? he asked, showing a deal of frustration.

    We can go back and show you, said Timmy excitedly. He wriggled again but Dan was not letting go this time.

    No! Let’s get home…… now! We’ve had enough excitement for one day.

    Timmy showed his disapproval and Edward looked dejected. Timmy scowled but had no option other than to accompany the others. Surely they knew it was he who had discovered their new den and the car. He couldn’t wait to go back. What a den it would make. Far better than anyone else’s.

    It felt like an age to cross the field. They navigated the gate, the track and crossed the road. Reaching the estate they parted company. Getting home Dan went upstairs to his room. He sat on his bed reflecting the happenings of that afternoon. His head was numb. Were they lucky or were they lucky? One of these days I’m going to kill Timmy, he thought. He loved his brother dearly. Unfortunately, he pushed the boundaries continuously. To-day he had surpassed himself.

    His mother called up to him. The tone did not sound very warm. Then there was a moment of desperation. He had left Timmy down stairs. What had he been saying?

    He went downstairs. The look on his mother’s face said it all.

    Please tell me it isn’t true, she said.

    Dan reluctantly told her about the experiences of that afternoon. When he had finished there was a long silence.

    What do we do now? she said at last. Timmy has told me it was your idea to build a den. Why can’t you take responsibility for your actions? We can’t ignore the skeleton. I’m ringing the Police. God knows what trouble you’re going to be in.

    Dan glowered at Timmy. So I suggested it! Mummy would rather believe him than me. Timmy smirked back feeling very smug.

    A short time later a community police officer turned up. He listened to Dan’s story with Timmy chiming in occasionally. When Dan finished he excused himself to phone the station. On returning he explained there would be another officer turning up. He then wanted more information.

    Had they removed anything? Had they touched or moved anything? Did the other two boys live locally? Then he took details. He seemed satisfied with the answers. Then their mother wanted to know if the boys were in trouble. The officer said that technically they had been trespassing. But taking into account their ages, and previous good behaviour, he could see no problem. Probably just a verbal warning this time and a mild reprimand. A possible slap on the wrists.

    A police car stopped outside the house. Two officers, one male and one female, got out. The community officer went out to join them. The local curtains were twitching. There was quite a long discussion. The community officer returned. He told them that they needed one to return to the site with them. He turned to Dan and explained his mum could go as well. What about Timmy? The officer said no, just one boy. The female officer can stay with your youngest. The older boy Dan would be better.

    Awe. Let me go! Timmy said petulantly. After all, it was my idea! He realised too late what he had said.

    His mother looked at him angrily. You and I are going to have words!

    Mother decided that Dan would go with the three officers and Timmy would stay with his mother. Timmy was not happy.

    Don’t worry. We’ll take care of Dan. He’ll be quite safe. said the officer.

    Dan retraced the route to the gate and they all climbed over. They skirted the trees passing the Keep out. Private sign. He knew it was somewhere near. He took the plunge and went into the woods. It seemed to take a lot longer than he remembered. He finally burst into the open with the house in front of him.

    Now where? asked one of the officers.

    We entered this way. Then came out that way he indicated.

    He led them round to the door that they had first entered. One of the officers tried to open the door. It was still stuck.

    That’s why we couldn’t come out of this door. It needs a very heavy shove.

    A heavy shove and the door opened reluctantly. The two officers told Dan to remain with the female officer much to his annoyance. He really wanted to go back in now there were adults present. It seemed like an age until the community officer returned.

    It’s just as you described.

    A little while later the other officer came round the corner of the building. He obviously left by the vestibule.

    It’s a bit strange, that car in the overgrown flower bed. Have any of you lads touched or removed anything

    No. We’ve only touched the door to get in and the door to get out. It was me who stopped Timmy from touching the car and the bones. He did manage to trample on some of the plants.

    Thanks Dan. We’ll take it from here, said one of the police officers. He was on his radio calling for extra help. You’ve been very brave to come forward. You should be proud of yourself. Joyce, take Dan back home. Get a statement from the other two lads. We’ll get the crime scene investigation started and then get the statements from Dan and Timmy. We’ll see you back at the car.

    Dan felt peeved. He really wanted to be a part of the action. He got back home a little later. WPC Joyce Owens went to interview Edward and Luke. As Dan entered the house his mother met him.

    Timmy has told me everything. How could you be so stupid! You should have known better. You’re the older brother. You should have taken more care. Both of you could have been killed. Go to your rooms. I don’t know what your father’s going to say when he gets home

    Dan  could not win. He was damned either way. If he had led the expedition or not he was still to blame. He was going to have to lay down rules to his younger brother. But there was one good thing. He was glad it was someone else’s responsibility now.

    The two brothers were in the middle of giving their statements when their father got home early. His wife had called him in panic. Later as he sat with Dan in his room he was more understanding. He realised what a handful Timmy was. But Dan was older. He had to step up and take charge. In his heart Dan knew his dad was right. His Dad however was relieved that they were all safe. He would have a word with Timmy and somehow try to help reign him in. He certainly would not stop Dan from having a word as well. It

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