He clapped a hand over my mouth, and twisted my arm up my back. Gertrude grabbed my other arm. I kicked as best I could, but he lifted me off my feet as they dragged me along the hall and down a passage. Within a minute, he was pushing open a door, with darkness on the other side. He assumed no one would hear me scream, and moved his hand from my mouth.

I screamed.

The stone steps looked deep as the stairway to hell.

One shove, and I was bouncing down hard cold steps, every fibre of my body crying out against the pain. I tried to slow my descent, and to break my fall. The crack I heard was my arm, and then everything went black.

From a long way off, I heard voices that seemed not human.

“Is she dead?”

“If not, she soon will be.”

Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty-Five

Mrs. Shackleton ought to have come out of the house by now. You should have gone in with her, Sykes told himself.

He had walked the grounds on the south side of the house. Anyone in an upstairs window would have seen him, but he saw no one. There was a large vegetable patch and greenhouses. Beyond was farmland. Separating the Dell land from the farmland was a country road.

Although the downstairs windows were all shuttered, he went and peered through a crack.

He had told Alec to stay out of sight, and listen for Mrs. Shackleton coming out. That would be their signal to leave. Sykes made his way back to the gate they had first entered.

And then he heard a car engine, but from round the other side of the house. Several moments later, Alec came running.

“They’ve taken her.”

“Who has?”

“I hid, and watched. I saw them loading something into the boot of the car, something big, and now they’ve gone. It was her.”

Sykes went to the door of the house and banged. He tried to open the door, but it was locked.

Alec’s voice was urgent now. “I’m sure they’ve taken her. It was Mr. Dell tampered with the steering on her car, and now he’s taken her.”

“Did you see her?”

“No. It was something he carried in his arms.”

Sykes leapt into car and drove round the side of the house towards the lane, stopping just long enough for Alec to jump in. Racing along the lane as fast as the car would allow, he passed hedges and ditches, trees and fields with such speed that they might be on a reel being turned at speed in a picture show.

And then he came to a fork in the way. There was nothing to choose between the roads leading off either side of the lane. They were of similar size, and equally deserted.

Which way, which way?

“Right,” said Alec.