Chapter 8 - The Fire Below
The smoke was white and bitter.
Emily coughed, pulling the torn fabric of her dress over her mouth.
The manager ran to the metal door and struck the release panel.
“It’s locked from upstairs.”
Adrian kicked the lower hinge.
The door did not move.
Margaret searched the desk drawers.
“There must be another exit.”
The scarred man’s voice had vanished.
On the monitors, Lorraine and Victor were no longer visible in the kitchen. The banquet hall feed showed guests crowded near the front doors while security guards tried to restore the phone system.
Someone had activated the fire alarm.
But no sprinklers operated below ground.
The smoke thickened.
Emily’s burned face throbbed with every breath.
The manager pulled boxes from the shelves, searching the walls.
“Hannah said the records room connected to the old delivery tunnels.”
“She also said the room was hidden,” Adrian replied. “Did she leave another map?”
“Only part of one.”
“Where is it?”
“In my office upstairs.”
Margaret opened the folder bearing Thomas’s name again.
She scanned the photographs.
One image showed him standing inside Room 317.
Behind him was a doorway partly concealed by shelving.
“Here.”
They moved toward the rear wall.
The shelves were bolted to the floor.
Adrian grabbed one side.
The manager took the other.
Together they pulled.
Nothing happened.
Emily studied the photograph.
Thomas’s right hand rested against a box labeled WARD, CELIA.
“Wait.”
She searched the shelves.
The box was still there.
Emily removed it.
Behind the box, a metal lever protruded from the wall.
She pulled it.
The entire shelving unit shifted forward several inches.
Adrian and the manager dragged it aside, revealing a narrow passage.
Margaret pushed Emily through first.
They entered a brick tunnel barely wide enough for one person at a time. The manager came last, pulling the shelving partly closed behind them.
The smoke became thinner as they moved.
Margaret’s flashlight illuminated rusted pipes and old electrical cables. Water dripped from the ceiling. Somewhere above them, the fire alarm continued ringing.
Emily carried Celia Ward’s file.
“Why did you take that?” Margaret asked.
“You said she contacted you.”
“She disappeared.”
“Maybe the file explains why.”
They reached a junction.
The tunnel divided in three directions.
Faded signs were painted on the walls.
RIVER.
STREET.
ASHFORD HOUSE.
Adrian stared at the third sign.
“My family’s mansion is four miles away.”
“These tunnels cannot run that far,” the manager said.
“Maybe it leads to another transport point.”
Margaret looked toward the river passage.
Fresh footprints marked the wet ground.
The scarred man had escaped that way.
Emily opened Celia’s file.
Inside were surveillance photographs, medical records, and transcripts of telephone calls. The final photograph showed Celia entering an apartment building three weeks earlier.
“She was alive after she contacted me,” Margaret said.
Emily turned the page.
A handwritten message covered the back.
MARGARET BENNETT IS NOT TO RECEIVE THE ORIGINAL LEDGER.
The handwriting belonged to Thomas.
Margaret recognized it immediately.
Her face became pale.
“He wrote this.”
Emily looked at the date.
Six months earlier.
“Then Dad was alive six months ago.”
“Or someone copied his handwriting.”
Margaret’s denial sounded weak.
A noise came from the passage marked ASHFORD HOUSE.
Metal scraping against brick.
The manager raised his flashlight.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
Adrian moved ahead.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Celeste.
Her silver evening gown was torn. Blood marked one side of her forehead.
Adrian ran to her.
“How did you get down here?”
Celeste collapsed against him.
“Lorraine opened a door in the coatroom.”
Margaret helped support her.
“What happened?”
“She said she needed to get Victor out. I followed them. Victor struck me when I tried to stop him.”
Emily looked behind Celeste.
“Where did they go?”
“Victor took the street tunnel. Lorraine went toward the river.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“My brother hit you?”
Celeste reached into the pocket of her dress and removed the black flash drive.
“I took this from Lorraine.”
Margaret accepted it.
“So she stole it during the outage.”
“No.”
Celeste shook her head.
“I did.”
Everyone stared at her.
“I saw Victor lunge,” she continued. “I knew he wanted it, so I took it first. I meant to give it back to you, but Lorraine saw me.”
“Why did the photograph appear on the table?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Who turned off the lights?”
“I don’t know that either.”
Margaret examined the flash drive.
“Did Lorraine copy anything?”
“She tried. I ran.”
A distant explosion shook dust from the ceiling.
The passage behind them filled with a dull orange glow.
The records room was burning.
Evidence gathered over thirty years was disappearing.
The manager swore.
“We need to move.”
Margaret looked toward the river passage, where Lorraine had gone.
Emily looked toward the street passage, where Victor had fled.
Adrian held Celeste.
“We cannot divide.”
Emily opened Celia Ward’s file again.
A small map had been folded inside the back cover.
Three tunnels converged near a structure labeled TRANSFER CHAMBER.
Beside it, Thomas had written two words.
EMILY’S CHOICE.
Emily stared at her father’s handwriting.
He had known she would come here.
He had known she would be forced to choose between following Victor and following Lorraine.
And he had left a third path.
“Neither,” Emily said.
May you like
She pointed to a narrow unmarked corridor on the map.
“We go here.”
