Martin Walker - The Devil's Cave

‘She’ll make it,’ said Jules, with a confidence that Bruno didn’t feel as he engaged four-wheel drive.

‘You want to get some speed up,’ said J-J from the back.

‘We don’t want a bow wave,’ Bruno replied, remembering a long-ago driving course in the military. He went into the water slowly, telling Jules to open his door so water could come in and its weight help hold them down onto the river bed. He kept the revs high and slipped the clutch to keep the exhaust clear, using his brake to hold the speed down as they went through the deepest part of the ford, water splashing over the door sill but not quite high enough to flood in. The four-wheel drive gripped and they lurched through and up onto the far bank. They picked up Inspector Jofflin in his standard police Renault as they accelerated past the hotel and up the winding road to the chapel.

‘Call Isabelle and make sure that military chopper hovers up here and keeps watch on both ends of the tunnel,’ Bruno said, fighting the heavy vehicle around the corners. ‘If Foucher gets hold of a car we want to be able to follow it.’

They saw the empty helicopter as they topped the rise, leaning slightly to one side on the sloping ground by the cemetery, its rotor blades drooping. Bruno braked hard and stopped at the ruined chapel, waiting impatiently as Jofflin came out of his car with a uniformed policeman beside him, apologizing that they had found nowhere to hide the police cars when the Count’s chopper had first appeared.

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ said J-J, telling him to stay at the tunnel entrance and coordinate from that end. He gave Jofflin his own phone, saying all the numbers he’d need were in the memory. He checked that Jofflin had a firearm and then ordered the uniformed policeman to give his own PAMAS semi-automatic to Bruno and to hand over the torch from his car.

Bruno had already taken the torch from the Gendarmerie van and now he worked the action of the gun, remembering the manual de-cocking lever, the same as the military model he’d carried for years. He removed the magazine, squinted down the barrel with his thumbnail at the end to reflect some light in. The barrel was clean, the action smooth and there was a thin film of oil. He gave an approving nod of thanks to the cop from Bergerac. Then he remembered to warn Jofflin that he might have trouble getting a phone connection up here on the plateau, but if he went down the road he should pick up the signal that served the hotel.

‘Mine’s dead but the Commissaire’s phone has a single bar,’ Jofflin replied, looking down at the two mobiles. ‘I’ll manage.’

Bruno turned to J-J. ‘I don’t think you should come in. You’d be more useful-’

‘Don’t even try to stop me,’ snapped J-J. ‘You know the way so you lead. I’ll go second, then Jules.’

‘Just a moment, sir,’ Jules said. ‘If Inspector Jofflin calls the Gendarmerie at Les Eyzies, they might be able to get some armed men to the Gouffre entrance before the Mobiles can get there.’

‘Good idea,’ said J-J. ‘Do it. And make sure you’ve got paramedics on standby at both ends, here and at the Gouffre.’

Even as Jules made the suggestion, Bruno borrowed one of Jofflin’s phones to call Albert at the St Denis fire station to ask if he had a big fire engine free.

‘You do? Could you bring it up to the entrance to the Gouffre as soon as you possibly can? We’re in pursuit of a bad guy who’s probably armed and he may have a female hostage. Can you blast a high-pressure water jet at anyone who comes out who isn’t me or Sergeant Jules or J-J? You’ll also need your full paramedic team.’

Then Bruno led the way into the far end of the chapel and saw that the stone beneath the altar had been closed again. Could the Count be fooling them, pretending to be using the tunnel when he was really looking for cover on the plateau? He dismissed the thought. The Count had no reason to think anyone else would know of this route. Keeping his body to one side in case he was met by gunfire, Bruno pushed at the central stone until it swivelled and opened the way into the dark silence of the crypt.

By shining each torch from the side, they were able to check that the crypt was clear before Bruno handed J-J his light. With one hand on the pistol he eased himself inside and down the stairs. He stood guard by the hole he remembered that led down to the cave. J-J and Sergeant Jules were large enough to need to struggle through the gap in the altar to join him. He shone his light down the next set of steps. It seemed clear. This time he descended with his back to the stairs, letting his rump slide from step to step as he kept the pistol at the ready. With his other hand, he held his torch as far to his side as he could, reckoning that anyone with a gun would aim for it.

Once the others had followed him down, Bruno thought it was time for silence. He took off his boots, tied the laces together and hung them round his neck, advising the others to do the same. J-J wore slip-on shoes without laces, so he stuck them into his ample belt.

‘Watch out for stalagmites in the floor,’ Bruno whispered, feeling grit beneath his stockinged feet. Behind him, J-J was breathing loud enough to make Bruno want to shush him. J-J’s shadow, thrown by Sergeant Jules’s torch, loomed huge on the stone above Bruno’s head.

This is folly, came a whispering at the back of Bruno’s mind. What could be more dangerous than going down a dark tunnel with an armed adversary waiting somewhere ahead? Bruno squashed the thought, telling himself that the Count probably had no gun. With the innocent girl at risk, there was no choice. Had the Count been alone, they could have pumped in tear gas from both ends until he crawled out, blinded and coughing and fighting for breath. They still could do that, came the insidious voice in his head. Tear gas wasn’t lethal. The girl was young, she’d recover fast enough. Nonsense, he told himself; the tunnels were so vast that the gas would dissipate.

They were now in the long, smooth tunnel he thought of as the pipeline, where there would be no escape and a single bullet could go through one man and hit a second. Even a missed shot could ricochet and do damage. He turned off his torch and told J-J and Jules to do the same.

Whispering to J-J to stay where he was, Bruno crept along the pipeline, every sense alert for any sound or glimmer of light from ahead. Crouching, he peered down its length. Even as he did so, the skin began to crawl on his scalp as he remembered that the pipeline ran both ways from here. He’d gone downhill to find Isabelle, but hadn’t bothered to explore uphill. There could be another exit, or it would make a fine spot for an ambush. He turned his head to look the other way but saw nothing. He’d have to leave Jules at this point, just in case he’d been wrong and the Count wasn’t heading for the Gouffre at all, but the other way. With Jules there, at least the one certain exit would be blocked.

He crept down into the pipeline, waited and listened, then covered the lens of his torch with his hand so that only a faint glow emerged pinkly through his fingers. He whispered to J-J to follow him down. When Jules joined them, Bruno explained that the pipeline ran in both directions and Jules should wait at this junction. The old Gendarme at once handed J-J his torch.

‘If I’m staying still, I won’t need it,’ Jules said. ‘Anything that comes down from the right, I’ll shoot it. Anything that comes up from the left, I’ll challenge once and if it’s not you I’ll fire.’

‘If you go back up the steps a little and wait, you won’t have to challenge anybody. Just hit them on the head as they go by, but make sure it’s not me,’ said J-J.