When Harry, his clothes dry enough to put back on, had finally left the fireplace to join the repair team on the beach Reuben had watched him go.
"It just doesn't add up." he said. "I don't know what to make of him."
"Harry?" said Tracy. "Oh He's who he says he is. Dad often talked about him. Loud and American, sums him up well really."
"What about Gregory?"
"I don't know." Tracy frowned. "I can't remember any mention of him." She said shrugging her shoulders. She paused, thinking hard for a few seconds before suddenly tossing her head as if to rid herself of her worry and changed the subject. "The others will be starving after all the excitement. How about cooking something up?"
Building up the fire, Tracy suggested they go to the cottage to pick up some eggs. Laden with these and a couple of cans of baked beans they arrived back at camp to see Arthur looking white and Phil, equally serious, making a brew.
"Am I glad to see you!" Phil looked as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"What's wrong? Did they get off all right?" asked Reuben.
"I think you had better sit down Tracy." Phil spoke kindly and passed her his own mug of tea before filling another for Reuben and a replacement for himself. This would take some explaining. Eyes widened and jaws dropped as the events were related and began to sink in. Finally they all sat in silence staring once more into the embers of the fire.
Reuben was the first to break the silence. Much to his surprise he spoke calmly and steadily. "As I see it we have two problems facing us. Firstly if Tracy's father is a prisoner somewhere we ought to contact the police, and secondly if they are serious about adding Tracy to their collection we need to move fairly quickly to make sure that they don't. That means we can't stay here."
"I know we should tell the police." Tracy pleaded, "but we can't just leave it to them. I want to find Dad if he's in trouble."
"The police will need more evidence if they are even going to believe our story." Arthur added. "If we could get into the house we might find out more."
"Get into the house?" Reuben was taken aback. "Are you mad? It would be like walking into a cage."
"Why?" Phil asked. "O.K. I know they want Tracy but as yet they don't want us, and they won't want to make waves by taking her while we're around."
"So what do we do? Go up to the front door and ask 'Do you know where Tracy's Dad is?'!" Reuben was sceptical.
"Well that's about the size of it." Phil was undaunted. "We have a good excuse. We're just taking Greg’s clothes back. They've made no secret of where they're staying."
"It's worth a try." Tracy said. "We can't do nothing."
Reuben looked at Phil, then at Arthur and back to Tracy. "All right!" he said. "But if we're all going over there then I would rather not leave all our gear here. We've already seen how much they respect other people's property. Can you fit it all in your boat?"
"No need for that." said Arthur. "We know a safe place to hide it for the time being."
A few minutes later Reuben and Tracy were paddling two of the trusty kayaks around the island in the direction of the high cliffs. Reuben was aware of aches and pains in his shoulders, remnant of the original sea crossing that now seemed to be part of ancient history and not just a day or so ago. Tracy had at first found the small craft tricky, especially when it came to getting in, but in no time she had control of speed and direction.
Arthur had decided to pack up all his various equipment, with Phil to help with the tents and other luggage whilst the other two went to fetch the boat from its dark haven. Canoes would be far quicker than crossing the island again to find the tunnel. Reuben had listened intently to Arthur's description of the eventful end of the chase and now scanned the rocks for signs of the secret entrance. The first clue was easy to spot. About twenty metres from the cliff face that towered above them a sharp, almost pyramidal rock pushed its way through the surface of the still water. Across one side of the rock was an angry white smear of ground fibreglass resin and several small pieces of the shattered hull. Reuben pointed. "They must've been going some!"
Tracy just grimaced and turned her craft to face directly into the cliff face. Reuben could see why Arthur had not seen the narrow entrance. It was perfectly concealed in a natural shadow of the rock face. He followed, straining his eyes as they came out of the light into the darkness of the cavern.
The light of a small torch that Tracy had brought revealed that the tide had reached the top of the steps, its highest point, and it was relatively easy to manhandle the two canoes, leaving them stacked neatly at the edge of the ledge. Once this was done Tracy pulled in on a rope and the familiar form of the antique wooden craft materialised from the gloom, gliding softly towards them like some faithful hound awaiting the return of its owner.
In what seemed very little time at all the camp had been dismantled. The fireplace, raked and doused and the slight yellowness of the flattened grass being the only signs of what had been there. As the laden boat left once more for the cave Phil followed in the last kayak.
Phil's canoe was stacked with the others and the tents and equipment stowed neatly in one corner of the subterranean room. In a matter of minutes, it felt to Reuben, they were all aboard Tracy's boat approaching the slipway below the boathouse. Coming ashore here was a risk they had to take and they had spent some time deciding just where to land the craft. Tracy was sure that the launch would have come from the harbour in the village so the slipway, being at some distance from the village, would give them a better chance of coming ashore unseen. Still Arthur and Reuben remained in the boat with the engine running whilst Phil and Tracy walked carefully up to the boathouse. Reuben watched them go round the corner and waited.
It seemed an age had passed and Arthur looked at Reuben with a worried expression.
"I say, you don't think anything's happened to them do you?" he asked.
Before he could answer the boathouse doors opened and Phil was wheeling the trailer towards them. He was in a state of some excitement as they pulled the boat out of the water.
"Tracy's Mum is in the boathouse!" he explained. "She arrived this morning and couldn't get into the house so she came here. She assumed Tracy and her Dad were out in the boat and was waiting for them."
The boat safely housed and the boathouse doors closed they turned towards the utility room door. A kettle was already boiling and there were five mugs on the side. Entering the room Reuben did a double take. Tracy and her mother were sitting on two stools near the waiting mugs. Had he not been aware of the clothes she was wearing he would have taken longer to decide which was which. As it was the contrast between Tracy's rough outdoor clothes and the more sophisticated city fashion of the older woman was quite comical. He noticed their eyes were red and tearstained, but each was smiling and relieved to be reunited.
"I understand I have a lot to thank you for." Tracy's mum struggled to control the emotion in her voice. "You must think me rather a bad mother."
"It's not your fault Mum!" Tracy interjected. "You couldn't have known what was to happen."
"I should have guessed, or at least been prepared for it to happen. I feel such a fool!" She brushed an annoying strand of hair away from her eyes, which flashed, reminding Reuben of his first encounter with Tracy. "I hear you have some idea about Mike's whereabouts?"
"Mike?" Reuben asked.
"Tracy's dad."
"We're not sure where he is but.." Reuben started to talk but Phil interrupted.
"I think you ought to see these." he said, passing her the wallet that had come from Gregory's clothes.
Tracy's mother first looked at the faxed message. She frowned. "There's no caller details here, no time sent or numbers. Whoever received it must have cut the top off. Where did they get that photo of Tracy?"
"Could it have been from Harry?" Arthur suggested. "Do you send photographs in your letters?"
"We sometimes send a family group at Christmas, but this is last term's school photo!" she replied. "I've not given them out yet. We give them to family, relations. Anyway, why Harry? How's he mixed up in this?"
"Dad had one." Tracy said quietly. "He put one in his wallet as soon as they came back from school."
"Then that supports our idea." Reuben said. "We think whoever sent this is holding Tracy's dad, er.. Mike, and.." he stopped abruptly. Tracy's mother was looking intently at the identity card. She had turned pale.
"You've seen this man recently?" she asked.
Between them they explained the events and happenings of the last few days, about the ransacking of the cottage, the locks and the safe, and the happenings with the boats. Tracy's mother listened wide-eyed, shaking her head occasionally with disbelief and amazement.
"I should have remembered Harry was coming. He did say." She murmured. "But I thought I could trust him. He's always been so reliable. I don't understand!"
"I think Harry's been tricked." Reuben spoke thoughtfully. "Were they all in the same year group at Oxford?"
"I don't know. Actually I think Harry was a little older than Mike."
"What about Gregory?" Phil joined in. "Harry seemed to accept that he had been there. Did you know him?"
"Wouldn't he be in the club photo Mum?" Tracy asked, disappearing into the boathouse. Seconds later she reappeared with a large framed photograph, trailing cobwebs as she laid it on the table.
The photograph appeared to be of a gathering outside the clubhouse. At first all Reuben could see was a sea of faces in five rows, the front row seated rising to the back standing on tables or something. Then Tracy pointed out her father, and then Harry standing quite close. After looking very closely for some time there was no sign of the tall man 'Gregory'.
"Look on the back," Tracy's mum suggested. "Mike would sometimes write their names."
The photograph was removed from the frame and indeed there were some names written. Next to each name was a code consisting of a number, a letter L or R and another number.
"That's row number and how many from left or right they are I assume." said Arthur. "I often do the same, especially if I don't want all the names. Here we are! There's a Gregory!"
They turned the photo over and followed the code. The man standing at that position was nothing like the man staring out of the identity card.
"Are you sure you have the code right?" Reuben asked.
"Try it for Harry. Here's his name." Phil checked Arthur’s theory and sure enough Harry's code was correct.
"Well this man isn't Gregory, but I have an idea I know who he might be." Colour had returned to Tracy's mother's face and she reached into her handbag, pulling out a mobile phone. "I know I owe you an explanation, but it will have to wait for now. I want you to launch the boat again."
Just what this new twist in the events was to mean was beyond Reuben's comprehension but he felt that here was someone who was used to being in control. He felt sure that things would soon become clear. They left her making a call as they opened the boathouse doors yet again and wheeled the boat down to the water. Reuben held on to the boat with Phil as Arthur and Tracy returned the trailer and closed the doors. Minutes later the boat, with five aboard, was on course for the island.