A Path Lit By Shadow (Jasper Lewingdon Book 1) Read online

  The Adventures of Jasper Lewingdon

  Volume 1

  A Path Lit By Shadow

  by

  Paul Beattie

  Text Copyright © Paul Beattie 2015

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  1 A desperate rescue

  2 A penny for them

  3 A dressing down

  4 Homecoming

  5 Breaking and entering

  6 Questions and answers

  7 Rest and recuperation

  8 A trip to the shops

  9 Flight

  10 A needle in a haystack

  11 Rendezvous

  12 Chase

  13 Revelation

  1 A desperate rescue

  Crouched low Jasper ran as lightly as he could along the apex of the roof. The dampness from the early evening rain had left the slates greasy. Thoughts of the sudden irresistible pull of gravity were pushed firmly to the back of his mind, getting to the end of the roof was all that mattered. Just below the gable end there was a small balcony, with a little luck he could drop down onto it. A few feet short of the edge he stopped, he’d have to crawl the last bit.

  Keeping low he peered over, there were the French doors that opened onto a narrow balcony guarded by a set of iron railings. Inwardly Jasper groaned, the eaves of the roof overhung the edge of the balcony, not by much but with the railing it would be impossible to drop cleanly from the roof straight onto the balcony. Perhaps if he hung from the guttering and swung he might just be able to land on the balcony without catching the railings. Might; it was a big word. If he was a gymnast he might just pull it off, but he was no gymnast. Now wasn't the time for heroics.

  Dusk had been firmly replaced by night, the gas lamps forming small puddles of light on the pavement. The street below was quiet with no traffic running along it. A flicker of movement caught Jasper's eye. He pulled himself as flat as the slates that dug into his stomach. The merest hint of a silhouette was visible at the mouth of the alleyway opposite. He was sure from his walk-by that there were no watchers. If he did get onto the balcony then he was going to be in full view of anyone keeping a watch on the house.

  Failure, it tasted bitter. There was nothing for it but to crawl back from the edge and return the way he had come. As he started to inch back a car turned into the street. A cold sense of unwelcome inevitability seeded itself in his stomach. It was the car he had seen just before Ruby disappeared. The Humber tourer rolled up to the house. As its engine died the figure emerged from the shadows and walked quickly round to the rear kerbside door pulling it open. Vincente?

  The driver got out and trotted quickly to the front door of the house, his passenger ran round to help the first man, who was struggling to pull something from the back seat of the car. The pair headed to the house encumbered by something that looked like a short carpet or very much like a body rolled up in one. Surely they wouldn't be so stupid as to bring Ruby here? He should just withdraw now, report back to K and wait instruction. He knew that’s what he should do but to hell with that.

  Jasper looked down at the balcony and the railings. They seemed to have been placed specifically to stop someone entering the house from the roof, rather than to stop someone falling from the balcony. He turned round and shuffled backwards until his knees were just on the edge of the roof line. It seemed ironic that a safety device may actually be the cause of his own demise. He started to slide his body over the edge and take his full weight on his arms.

  As his body began to dangle over the edge of the roof his weight pulled at his hands, they were starting to slip. He began to desperately feel with his feet for something, anything to get a purchase on, but all he touched was air. The sudden scrabbling pulled him further over the edge. He was hanging from the eaves, body swinging free above the path to the front door, some thirty feet below.

  Glancing down Jasper could see his shoes about two feet above the top of the railings and about six inches adrift from a safe and easy drop onto the balcony. Slowly he started to swing his legs to try and bring his body at least partly over the balcony. After several swings it became clear that he wasn't going to be able to pull off a clean drop onto the balcony without then toppling backwards over the railings. He knew he didn't have the strength to pull his dead weight back up onto the roof; there was nothing for it he had to drop and try and grab the railings as he fell.

  After several deep, slow breaths Jasper let go. He snatched wildly as he fell, his forearms banging down hard on the railings. Pain jarred through him. Instead of stopping his descent with his arms crooked over the rail he was once again hanging by his fingers only this time from the railings. The impact had partially numbed his arms. He could see, if not feel, his hands starting to slip on the black painted surface.

  Gritting his teeth against the agony in his shoulders Jasper willed his hands to close harder about the rail whilst trying desperately to pull his weight up. With painful effort he got a knee onto the edge of the balcony. His weight partially taken by his knee Jasper dragged himself up and over the railings, flopping down on the balcony.

  As he lay on the cool damp surface staring up at the inky night sky Jasper breathed out from the bottom of his lungs. His heart was still thumping fast but starting to subside. He might not be safe yet but he was alive and mostly in one piece. Despite the throbbing from his arms he propped himself upright and examined the French doors. The upper two thirds of the doors were simply glazed, with plain wooden panels for the lower third. Peering through the window Jasper could make out an empty attic room, a door at the opposite end.

  Pulling a jemmy from inside his dinner jacket he started to work it between the doors at the height of the lock. The wood was soft and he forced the doors open with little effort. Once inside he tiptoed over to the door at the far end of the attic, the handle turned easily. Slowly he opened the door praying there wouldn't be any give-away squeaks or squeals from aged hinges.

  A short, narrow flight of steps led down from the door before turning a corner. Jasper listened. The muffled murmur of voices bubbled up from below. He started out down the stairs letting each step take his weight gradually. Past the turn was another door, light shining from beneath it. He made his way down and pressed his ear against it.

  There was still the muffled sound of voices but they didn't appear to be coming from the other side of the door. Jasper looked down at the jemmy in his hand; it might be okay for creeping up on a single unsuspecting person but with at least three people in the house he was going to need something more to even the odds. He set the crowbar down and slipped his automatic from his jacket pocket. Fortified with .45 calibre courage he opened the door.

  The threadbare runner on the floor of the landing drew his eye to the single sash window at the end. The glow of the street lamp outside the house provided some extra light to the otherwise insipid glow from the bare electric bulb hanging from its twisted flex. On either side was a door, the left one slightly ajar. At the end of the landing the stairs led down to the rest of the house. The murmur of voices drifted up from below but Jasper couldn't make out any words.

  He crept forward, gently pushing open the left hand door with the barrel of his pistol. Apart from a rickety dressing table and a large bedstead the room was empty. He stepped across the landing to the door opposite. Pressing his ear against it he listened for any sounds from within. Slowly he turned the battered brass door knob. The latch mechanism started to turn, emitting a small squeal, Jasper caught a sound through the door. He froze.

  Keeping the pressure constant on the door handle he strained to hear. The thump of his pulse was deafening, du
lling all other sounds even those drifting up the stairs. With a snatched half-breath he opened the door stepping quickly inside, the Colt leading the way. Jasper looked straight ahead into the wide and frightened eyes of a young woman, a young woman who wasn't Ruby.

  The girl, half sitting and half lying on the on the bed, pushed herself as far up the bed as she could at the sight of the gun. Only the gag in her mouth stopped her from crying out. Jasper stood still for a second, confused. It was supposed to be Ruby that he was about to rescue, but in her absence he would have to rescue someone else. The girl’s feet were tied together out in front of her, her hands behind her back presumably bound to the iron bedstead behind. Her wavy blond hair was pulled back, pinned in place by the gag. He thumbed the safety catch on and pushed the pistol into the waist band of his trousers. As he stepped towards the bed the girl flinched away from him.

  "It's alright I'm here to help you, let me get that gag off you."

  The girl stopped trying push herself away from him but her legs pulled up, taut and ready to kick out. Her eyes tracked every movement by Jasper. In the half-light provided by the feeble bulb on the landing Jasper could make out bruising around the side of her face, her left eye partially closed from swelling. Jasper stepped back slightly from her.

  "Honestly, I'm not with those men downstairs. I'm here to try and find a friend of mine, I think they have her in here somewhere. Look, I can help you get out of here."

  Jasper sat down slowly on the side of the bed and reached towards the gag. After a moment's hesitation the girl turned her head to allow Jasper to reach the knot at the back of her neck. As he worked at the tight knot the girl gave a slight grunt of pain. Once free of the gag she coughed and spat some blood onto the stained mattress. She turned a bit further showing where her hands were bound tightly to the bedstead.

  "Please get my hands free, I can hardly feel anything." she said.

  Jasper worked quickly at the knots. The harsh cord had cut into the girl's wrists leaving them raw and weeping blood. She winced repeatedly as Jasper finally got the cords off.

  "Sorry, I was trying to be as careful as I could. Anyway, who are you?" Jasper asked.

  "Shouldn't I be asking you that question? After all I'm the kidnap victim here, but as you asked first I'm Elspeth, Elspeth Stirling. And you are?" Elspeth started to massage some life back into her hands.

  "Jasper, Jasper Lewingdon and I think we need to find a way out of here. Do you know the layout of the house?"

  “I can't say that I'm going to be much help there, all I've seen is this room since I was bundled off the street.” She bent forward to start working at the cords that bound her feet together. “They had some kind of sack or blanket over my head when they carried me in here.”

  Jasper moved to the window and looked out into the street. The Humber was still parked outside but the street was otherwise empty. For a moment Jasper thought he saw movement in the alleyway opposite, he drew back from the window with a start. When he looked again there was nothing but shadow. When Jasper turned Elspeth had managed to untie her feet and had swung her bare feet onto the floor, smoothing her skirt down.

  “So you have only just been brought here?” asked Jasper.

  “Yes! Where do you think I’ve been?” replied Elspeth. She steadied herself against the bedstead as she got up.

  Jasper wondered for a moment; if Elspeth was the person he had seen being carried in from the Humber then what had happened to Ruby? The last he had seen of her was when she left the club to follow Vincente, ordering Jasper to remain and keep watch on the other two Italians. An hour later, with no sign of Ruby's return, the Italians had left and Jasper had decided to follow them. Now he was here, still with no sign of Ruby, and needed a plan to get out fast.

  Jasper was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of a door opening from somewhere below in the house, followed by the steps of someone ascending the stairs briskly.

  “Quick, get back on the bed and put your hands behind you as if you are still tied up,” he hissed at Elspeth.

  “What about the gag?” she asked.

  “We don't have time to put it back on, turn your head away from the door and don't look up if they come in.” replied Jasper.

  Jasper closed the door taking up position behind it, pulling the Colt from his waistband. The steady measured tread of a person approaching the room was now clearly audible. Jasper breathed slowly and deeply. He glanced over at Elspeth who was doing a good impression of someone tied up and unable to move. The door opened.

  The light from the landing cast a long shadow of a figure as they stepped through the doorway, pausing briefly to feel for the brass light switch to the side of the door. The bulb glimmered into life and glowed quickly into a harsh yellow light that dispelled the shadow. A stocky man of medium height clad in a black turtle neck sweater moved into Jasper's view. His dark hair was cropped short, the whiteness of the scalp showing through in the light from the bare bulb. In his right hand he carried a tray with a jug on it. The hand had been bandaged hastily with a grubby, torn piece of cloth; a small red stain had seeped through.

  “Signorina I have brought you some water. However, when I untie you, if we have any more of that unpleasantness you showed me on our little trip here then you will get more than a little black eye as payment in kind.” The man spoke with a heavy Italian accent and Jasper could see some fresh scratches on the right side of the man's face.

  Jasper took a half step forward and placed the muzzle of the pistol just below the man's right ear.

  “Don't try to turn around, and don't try to speak. Elspeth, can you come over here and take that tray out of his hand.” Jasper pushed the door shut with a nudge of his hip. Elspeth quickly slid off the bed and stepped across to the Italian, taking the tray and jug from the man, before getting out of the line of fire.

  The Italian suddenly spun to his left in a flowing movement, batting the pistol away with an open hand. He followed up with a sharp right cross to Jasper's jaw sending him stumbling back against the door. A further straight left connected brutally with Jasper's nose. Jasper’s vision exploded in stars and pain, his head slammed back against the solid wooden door with a sickening thump. Disoriented and groggy his grip on the Colt loosened and the weapon fell to the floor. Triumphantly the Italian stooped and snatched up the pistol pointing it at Jasper.

  “So who we got here eh? Sir Galahad?” said the Italian, his English carrying a near impenetrable accent. Jasper looked up at his captor, a spark of defiance flared within him.

  “It's whom do we have here not who we got here.” said Jasper, aware of a trickle of blood beginning to ooze from his nose. Now he could see the Italian clearly he realised he was shorter than he first thought, about five foot seven but much stockier, more like a sideshow boxer. His shorn black hair revealed a receding hairline on top of a wide round face from which stared a pair of dark spiteful eyes.

  “Who you to start talking like some bleedin' comedian. You think you're funny? Just you wait till I've finished with-” The Italian didn't reach the end of his diatribe as Elspeth smashed the water jug down on the back of his head. Pole-axed the Italian collapsed in a heap at Jasper's feet. Jasper picked the pistol up before clambering to his feet with Elspeth's help.

  “Thank you, I think we really should be getting out of here now as I think someone might have heard that,” said Jasper. On cue a shout came from downstairs.

  “Hey Giulio, sta bene?”

  Jasper and Elspeth ran out onto the landing. Jasper snatched a look over the banister rail toward the bottom of the stairs. Peering back up was the face of a man in his mid-thirties, his jet black hair brilliantined back with a centre parting; Vincente! He shouted in surprise then ducked back in horror as Jasper levelled the Colt at him. As Vincente's head disappeared out of sight Jasper fired. The heavy round struck the wall at the bottom of the stairs knocking a dinner plate sized piece of plaster off the wall. The percussion of the shot left Jasper's ears ringing. br />
  “I don't think we are going out of the front door but hopefully they'll think twice before trying to come up the stairs. Let's see if there is a way out through here.” Jasper led Elspeth into the bedroom across the landing. To the left of the door was a small window which looked out over the back of the house. Sounds of shouting in Italian could be clearly heard from downstairs. Jasper slid the window open. Just below was the pitched roof of the kitchen of the house, forming one side of a small cobbled courtyard.

  “I think we can get out onto this roof and then drop down into the yard.” said Jasper, “are you okay to give this a go?”

  “I think so but why don't we just wait until the police get here? I'm sure the sound of that gunshot is going to bring some attention.”

  “In normal circumstances I would agree with you but for reasons I can't really go into right now it wouldn't be such a good idea for the police to find me here.”

  Elspeth took an almost imperceptible pace away from Jasper.

  “So if you aren't with the police why should I trust you?” she asked.

  “I can't give you a good answer right now but would you rather stay with the people who kidnapped you or take a chance that I will do my damnedest to get you out of here in one piece?” replied Jasper.

  As Elspeth started to open her mouth there was a loud creak from the stairs. Jasper stepped to the door of the room opening it slightly. The top of someone’s head was just visible through the bannisters. There was the sharp crack of a pistol and a splinter of wood flew off the door surround next to Jasper's head. He flinched back before returning fire in the direction of his assailant. Ducking back inside the room he slammed the door shut turning to Elspeth.

  “Quick, help me push this bedstead against the door, it might just give us a bit of extra time.”

  They slewed the bed around and pushed it against the door, now any attempt to open the door would jam the bedstead firmly against the opposite wall making it impossible to open the door wider than the width of a hand; but still plenty wide enough to push a pistol through thought Jasper. With the Colt slipped back into his waist band he clambered through the open window. Sat on the sloping roof outside he turned to Elspeth.