Tunnels 01, Tunnels

out loud. The detective muttered something about taking that as a no as he scribbled in his little black notebook. He seemed to have regained some of his composure.
    "I have to ask these questions," he said, looking straight at Mrs. Burrows. "Did you ever know him to drink excessively or take drugs?"
    Again Mrs. Burrows unleashed a loud hoot of laughter. "Him?" she said. "You've got to be joking!"
    "Righto. So what did he do in his spare time?" the detective asked in a flat voice, trying his very best to get the questions over and done with as quickly as he could. "Did he have any hobbies?"
    Rebecca immediately shot a glance at Will.
    "He used to do excavations... archaeological digs," Mrs. Burrows answered.
    "Oh, yes." The detective turned to Will. "I understand you helped him out, didn't you, son?" Will nodded. "And where did you do all this digging?"
    Will cleared his throat and looked at his mother, and then at Inspector Beatty, who was waiting, pen held expectantly in hand, for an answer.
    "Well, all over, really," Will said. "Near the edge of town, at garbage dumps and places like that."
    "Oh, I thought they were official undertakings," the detective said.
    "They were real digs," Will said firmly. "We found the site of a Roman villa once, but mostly it was eighteenth- and nineteenth-century stuff we were after.
    "Just how extensive... I mean, how deep were the holes you dug?"
    "Oh, just pits, really," Will said evasively, willing the detective not to pursue this line of questioning.
    "And were you engaged in any such activities around the time of his disappearance?"
    "No, we weren't," Will said, very aware of Rebecca's eyes burning into him.
    "You're sure he wasn't working on anything, maybe without your knowledge?"
    "No, I don't think so."
    "OK, then," the detective said, putting away his notebook. "That's enough for now."

    * * * * *

    The next day, Chester and Will didn't hang around outside school for long. They spotted Speed and one of his faithful followers, Bloggsy, loitering a little distance beyond the gates.
    "I think he's looking for a rematch," Will said, glancing over at Speed, who glared straight back at him until Chester caught his eye. At this point, Speed contemptuously turned his back on them, muttering something under his breath to Bloggsy, who simply sneered in their direction and gave a harsh, derogatory laugh.
    "Couple of jerks," Chester growled as he and Will set off, deciding to take the shortcut home.
    Leaving their school behind them, a sprawling modern yellow-brick-and-glass job, they sauntered across the road and entered the adjoining housing projects. Built in the 1970s, the projects were known locally as RoachCity, for obvious reasons, and the infested blocks that made up the development were in a constant state of disrepair, with many of the apartments abandoned or burned out. This in itself didn't cause the boys any hesitation, but the trouble with the route was that it took them right through the home turf of the Click, who made Spped and his gang look like Girl Scouts.
    As they walked side by side through the projects, the weak rays of the sun glinting off broken glass on the blacktop and in the gutters, Will slackened his pace almost imperceptibly, but enough that Chester noticed.
    "What's up?"
    "I don't know," Will said, glancing up and down the road and peering apprehensively into a side street as they passed by.
    "Come on, tell me," Chester asked, looking quickly around. "I really don't fancy getting jumped in here."
    "It's just a feeling; it's nothing," Will insisted.
    "Speed's got you all paranoid, hasn't he?" Chester replied with a smile, but nevertheless he sped up, forcing Will to do likewise.
    As they left the projects behind them, they resumed a more normal pace. Very soon they reached the start of
    Main Street
    , which was marked by the museum. As Will did every evening, he glanced at it in the vain hope that the lights would be burning, the doors open, and his father back in attendance. Will just wanted everything to be normal again -- whatever that was -- but once again the museum was closed, its windows dark and unfriendly. The town council had evidently made the decision that for now it was cheaper to simply shut it rather than look for a temporary stand-in for Dr. Burrows.
    Will looked up at the sky; heavy clouds were beginning to pull across and blank out the sun.
    "Should go well tonight," he said, his mood lifting. "It's getting dark earlier, so we won't