Page 82 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

“Stay here, then,” the usually sweet-natured Rosie snaps.

“She’s probably the killer anyway,” Dusty snorts from the sofa.

“Right, let’s go, then.” Danny lifts his phone, the flashlight showing the way. Ellis eagerly hurries into the corridor .

Rosie follows them in and I go in after her, not sure if Ruby and Grey are going to join us.

A few moments later, I feel their presence behind me and hear Dusty’s dulcet tones.

“Urgh, it’s disgusting. Someone needs to get John the Maid down here stat!”

Smiling to myself, I join everyone else in following Danny single file down a short flight of stairs into the darkness, then into a narrow passageway. I light up the flashlight on my own phone and notice the walls either side of us are exposed brickwork. The air is freezing, and my breath creates a visible fog. Shivering despite the warmth of my velvet smoking jacket, I wish I was closer to Danny so he could put his arms around me. Seriously, the man’s like a human hot-water bottle.

I almost groan out loud at the thought of being snuggled up in bed with him all warm and cosy, which is where I wish we were now.

I can see Danny ahead as he reaches up and brushes away some of the larger cobwebs.

“Oh my god! Danny is totally Indiana Jones, all he needs is a whip and a fedora,” I hear Ellis say.

“I have handcuffs and a beanie.” Danny turns back and grins at him. “Does that count?”

“That means Tristan is Marion.”

“Hey, why do I have to be Marion?” I frown.

“Because she’s Indy’s one true love,” Ellis says and I can hear the impliedDuh!

There’s a loud bang and we stop dead, turning to peer into the darkness.

“Must be a draught,” Mr Greyson reasons. “The door slammed shut behind us.”

Suddenly, a creepy chuckle echoes along the dark tunnel.

“Uh, that doesn’t sound like a draught,” Rosie says worriedly.

“Who the fuck is that?” Dusty says, her eyes wide as she appears beside me. “This place is all kinds of fucked up.”

“Don’t worry, Rosie, I’ll protect you,” Ellis says with such sweetness, and I see him reach for his friend’s hand.

The laughter comes again and all the hairs on my arms stand up in response. I’m around the dead all the time and it doesn’t bother me, but there’s something about being trapped in the freezing cold dark in a secret corridor with a potential killer or killers—I’m not ruling out the possible murder tag team—all while being accompanied by a ghostly soundtrack of cackling laughter that’s seriously freaking me out.

“Maybe we should be moving along.” I give Ellis and Rosie a nudge and Danny, hearing the slight edge of panic to my voice, turns and picks up the pace.

We set off down the passageway at a brisk walk but the laughter seems to follow us, accompanied by the cold draught, so we speed up until we’re all doing a fairly good imitation of a speed walking marathon, hips swaying and elbows pumping. All of us are obviously trying to not start a panicked run to safety, but when a crackly voice whispers“Gotcha…”in my ear, I’m not too proud to admit I let out a very uncool scream.

“RUN!”

Everyone follows my order, bundling into each other in the darkness.

“Stairs!” Danny yells. Since we descended when we first entered, I hope this is a subterranean passage that runs under the hotel and that warning means we’ll be making our way back up at the other end, and not that we’re going further down.

Danny races up steps and we all follow, but as he reaches a door, he fumbles with the metal latch.

“It’s stuck!” he yells.

Greyson looks back down the corridor. “Bloody hell!” he screams. “Move aside!”

He shoves me and the others out of the way and crashes next to Danny against the door, trying to help get it open.