Free Mariah Mundi and the Ghost Diamonds by G.P. Taylor

what he could see, Mariah knew he was in a cave, a small, neat cave cut into the rock.
    There was no sign of Titus Salt or Grub. Mariah was alone. He turned around and to his surprise saw that the tiny door was
    open. He could see the back of the ticket booth where Titus would stand and collect the money. He knew this was Titus’s office. He had seen the small doorway behind the ticket booth every time Sacha and he had come to the Aquarium to look at the strange exhibits on wet Sunday afternoons. Mariah had always wanted to know what it was like inside. It was different to what he expected. He had always thought it would have been bigger, grander and more in keeping with an entertainer such as Titus Salt.
    Now as he waited for his clothes to dry he looked around eagerly. Next to the wooden chest was a table on which sat an old oil lamp with a dirty brass handle. On the far side was a small bed cut into the rock just above the floor. It was strewn with an old blanket, a felt cushion and a large book with a leather clasp. The floor sloped towards the stove and in the furthest corner was a pile of logs and black sea-coal that had been picked from the beach. Mariah pushed himself forward in the leather armchair to get nearer to the fire. He thought of how he would escape and what Titus Salt could do to him.
    ‘Still here?’ came a voice edged with a slight chuckle. ‘Thought you’d have run off as soon as you woke.’ Titus ducked through the doorway carrying a small silver tray piled with meat and cheese. ‘Had to get this from the pantry – don’t keep it in here in case of the rats. Don’t like the idea of rats, never did. Remember when I was a sailor, rats were the things I hated the most. Found one once in my trousers – don’t know how it got there.’
    Titus sighed as if he had remembered something wonderful that he would never see again. He smiled at Mariah, his two gold teeth shining in the light of the oil lamp.
    ‘That thing could have killed you. More importantly it could have killed me. Should have left you to it – and I wouldn’t have had to feed it for the week.’ Titus laughed again as he put the
    tray on the ground by the fire and took the simmering kettle and poured coffee into two cups that he took from a long shelf behind the door.
    ‘You don’t have to tell me who you are,’ he said softly in his best Sunday voice. ‘You are Mariah Mundi. I’ve heard all about you. Quite a lad I hear and all.’ Titus spoke quickly as he sat on the ground next to the fire and cradled the steaming pot mug in his gloved hands. ‘Can’t understand why you have to break in here. I’ve seen you often enough with that lass of yours – so, what were you doing?’
    ‘You going to kill me?’ Mariah asked as his lips tightened and he made ready to leap from the chair and run.
    ‘Why should I do that?’ Titus asked calmly as he eyed the lad from head to foot as if he knew what Mariah was about to do.
    ‘Barcus Dobbs. Didn’t you kill him and feed him to the fish when he stole your money?’ Mariah said, trying to hide his fear of the man.
    Titus began to giggle. He juddered in mirth as if he were electrocuted.
    ‘Did you think I killed Barcus Dobbs? All that I got of him was a patch from his trousers as old Grub tore his pants from him. He ran from here half naked. Wouldn’t do his repute any good if people found out that Titus Salt’s dog had ripped off his pants and he was frit of the beast. Cried like a baby, surprised you didn’t hear him from that fancy hotel of yours.’ Titus sipped from the cup and filled his mouth with cheese. ‘The man is hiding and the rumours of his death do him good. Dead men can’t do no wrong and it suits him to be dead. Suits Inspector Walpole too.’ Titus chewed frantically as he spoke and looked eagerly at Mariah. ‘Leads me to ask – what you doing here?’
    ‘I … I was looking for someone. There’s an entrance through a metal door. It was all rusted and it