Judgement Day by Swan Morrison - HTML preview

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Chapter 44

 

22nd April

 

 

 

 

Leadbetter drove Bishop Hunter’s car out of London and turned onto the M3. He left the motorway at junction five and continued along increasingly narrow country roads until he reached an entranceway to a wood.

This section of woodland, and the house three hundred metres away, had once belonged to his father.

When his father had died, the house and most of the land had been sold. Leadbetter, however, had retained the wood. He had told everyone he wanted to ensure that it would remain natural woodland and not run the risk of being bulldozed for a housing development.

There was, however, another reason for him to maintain ownership of that land.

Leadbetter drove one hundred metres into the wood and then a further fifty metres along a side track. He stopped the car near a large manhole cover.

He got of the car and walked to an area of vegetation about twenty metres away. Here he lifted a camouflaged cover to reveal a lever. He pulled the lever, and a metallic, scraping sound could be heard as the manhole cover slid sideways. It revealed a shaft with a stairway that lead to a chamber below.

Leadbetter drew his gun, returned to the car and opened the boot.

‘Who are you? What’s happening?’ said Bishop Hunter.

‘I have a gun; just do what I say,’ replied Leadbetter calmly.

Leadbetter helped the bishop from the boot. When he was standing, he placed the gun to the bishop’s head to confirm his previous statement.

Bishop Hunter thought he recognised the voice, but he could not put a name or face to it.

The bishop allowed himself to be led, in silence, to the shaft and down the stairway.

When they were in the chamber below, Leadbetter pulled another lever. The entrance closed above them.

Leadbetter’s father had served as an army chaplain during the Second World War. When the war was over, he had returned to his home in the nearby village to resume his role as local vicar.

The war had been a very unsettling experience for Leadbetter’s father and had radically changed the relaxed perspectives he had developed during a tranquil childhood in the village – where Leadbetter’s grandfather had also been the incumbent.

Leadbetter’s father had become convinced of the likelihood that either the Russians would invade England or that there would be a nuclear war. Both of these fears were widespread and, at the time, more than realistic.

To protect himself and his family in those eventualities, Leadbetter senior had constructed a hidden shelter in the woods and stocked it with enough food, water and fuel to allow three people to live underground for a year. He had also run a power cable to the shelter so that electricity could continue to be used for as long as the supply was available. He had even retained his Browning 9mm and ten boxes of ammunition – should any circumstances require its use.

‘Leadbetter!’ exclaimed Bishop Hunter when Leadbetter had removed his hood, leaving the bishop standing handcuffed in his vest and underpants. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘I’ll explain everything,’ Leadbetter replied, ‘but first, I would like you to go beyond that door.’ Leadbetter indicated an area at the far end of the chamber that was separated from the remainder by bars cemented into the floor and ceiling. There was a gap in the partition in which hung an open, barred door.

Bishop Hunter looked at the gun that Leadbetter was pointing at him and decided it was best to not debate the matter. He walked into the secure area, and Leadbetter closed and locked the door behind him.

‘Turn around and let’s have a look at those handcuffs,’ said Leadbetter.

Unlike the ones he had used to detain the woman in the house, these cuffs were not secured by keys. There were levers which made them easy to release by anyone except the person wearing them.

Leadbetter removed the cuffs.

‘What’s happening, Leadbetter?’ Bishop Hunter repeated.

Leadbetter did not answer but rummaged through a chest on the floor. He pulled out a shirt, pullover and a pair of trousers and passed them through the bars to the bishop. ‘I want to ask you some questions,’ Leadbetter finally replied.