I grabbed the torch from my bag and shone the light into the hole. I didn’t know what little critters might be lurking underneath the floorboards and I didn’t fancy putting my hand down into the dark. The beam illuminated dust, cobwebs and a rusty-looking pipe. I lay on the floor and reached my arm through the hole, stretching to the ends of my fingers. The pipe was wet to the touch. I knelt up, aimed the torch and took another look. Judging from the dark patch on the surface beneath the pipe, it had been dripping for some time, slowly. It probably wasn’t going to cause a major flood. Not until around two in the morning, I thought grimly, when the ceiling of the shop collapses. I was going to need a plumber and I didn’t know where I was going to get one. When the sun goes down in Ashburton, all tradesmen, like little furry animals, go home to hide in their holes. I scowled into the space beneath the floorboards. I would have to leave it till the morning and hope for the best.

Before I replaced the floorboard I shone the torch around once more. The light picked up a dark lump, lying a foot or so from where the pipe was dripping. I couldn’t make out what it was. It seemed to be some sort of package. I put the torch down, lay on the floor and began groping around, my arm at full stretch. I couldn’t reach it. Unless I could find something to help me get at it, I’d have to prise up another floorboard. I suddenly thought of Nick’s walking stick and fetched it from the hall.

Lying down once more I slid it beneath the floorboards, holding it by the rubber ferrule using the curved handle to hook the package towards me. After a few moments’ fishing, the handle made contact. I heard something slide beneath the floor. ‘Gotcha!’ I cried triumphantly and pulled the stick back towards me.

I thrust my arm back down into the darkness and came up with the package. It was about the size of a paperback book, wrapped in black plastic and bound with tape. I sat up and wiped the dust off the surface. Inside I felt a flickering of excitement.

Too impatient to unwrap the tape, I pulled the plastic apart with my fingers, making a hole wide enough to ease the contents out. I was holding something bundled up in soft woollen cloth which turned out to be an old grey scarf. As I unrolled it, I found I was holding my breath. Was this what Vlad had been after? Or perhaps, at last, I had found those damn rings.