developed something of a fascination with window locks, checking they’re secure, wanting to know where the keys are.’
‘And he says it was a little girl? Who’s been watching you all?’
Gareth nodded. ‘He’s mentioned her before, we just didn’t take much notice. There are lots of kids around town, and Tom’s imagination has always been on the colourful side.’
‘And where was Alice while …’ he stopped. Did that sound judgemental?
‘In her studio,’ said Gareth, either not noticing or choosing to ignore it. ‘She’s been working on a portrait of old Mr Tobias, he’s been sitting for her several times a week and she wants to get it finished before the end of the month. She heard Tom screaming upstairs but by the time she got to him he’d woken the other two and they were yelling their heads off too.’
‘Any sign of a break-in?’ asked Harry. ‘Is it possible Tom did see someone?’
Gareth shook his head. ‘The small window in the downstairs loo was open but no normal-sized person could get through it. And a child – even if one were out on her own at night – wouldn’t be able to reach it.’
The two men had reached the back of the church. They stopped in front of a tall narrow door that looked as though it had been made from yew. ‘Are you sure you’re OK to do this?’ asked Harry. ‘It’s not urgent. You should probably …’
Gareth picked up the tool-box he’d brought with him. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘They’ve gone on a walk. Joe wanted to have a look at the Tor. I said I’d join them when we’re done.’
‘Well, if you sure.’
‘I’m sure. Let’s open this crypt.’
Harry found the right key and pushed it into the lock. ‘Technically, not a crypt,’ he said. ‘More of a cellar. Might be handy for storage. I just want a steer on whether I need to call a surveyor in to check it’s safe.’ The key turned easily enough. Harry took hold of the handle and raised the latch.
‘And you don’t want to look round the spooky place on your own,’ said Gareth.
‘You’re absolutely right about that. Blimey, this door is stiff. Shouldn’t think it’s been moved in years.’
‘Oh, step out of the way, Vicar, this is a job for a man.’
‘Back off, buddy, I’m on it,’ said Harry. ‘Here we go.’
The door swung inwards just as a bubble of sour-smelling dust burst in front of them. Harry blinked hard. Gareth cleared his throat. ‘Stone me, that’s a bit rich,’ he said. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing dead down there?’
‘I’m not sure of anything,’ replied Harry, picking up his flashlight and stepping on to the spiral staircase that wound its way down beneath the church. The cold air seemed to steal around the back of his neck. ‘Stakes and garlic flowers at the ready.’
The damp smell of the church’s cellar got stronger as the two men went down. Before they were halfway Harry was glad he and Gareth were wearing fleeces. Twenty-two steps and they were at the bottom, shining their torches around. The two beams picked out massive stone pillars and a vaulted brick roof. So much bigger than either of them had expected.
‘I stand corrected,’ said Harry, after a few seconds. ‘This is a crypt.’
*
If Tom had been asked a couple of weeks ago, he might have said October was one of his favourite months. Because October was when the trees started to look like toffee apples and ploughed fields turned the colour of dark chocolate. He liked the way the air tasted on his tongue, fresh and sharp like a Polo mint, and he loved the sense of expectation, as first Hallowe’en, then Bonfire Night, then Christmas drew near. This year, though, he was struggling with the whole expectation business. This year, he just didn’t like to look too far ahead.
‘Hold on, you two,’ his mother’s voice called up the hill. ‘Wait for us girls.’
Tom glanced back. Joe was a few yards behind, dressed as a medieval archer with a plastic bow strung over his shoulder and a quiver of arrows on his back. He was keeping up well and singing quietly to himself. Almost thirty yards further down the hill Alice and Millie were just appearing through the fog.
‘Tom, stay on the path!’ called his mother.
‘OK, OK!’
He carried on up.
Harry walked forward until he was in the centre of the wide, dark space. Three rows of ornate brick columns held up the vaulted ceiling. The floor was