Chapter 32
When bullets had smashed two of the front windows, James and Andy had taken cover under the stairs. They didn’t know (or care) what Sam had done, but once the shooting stopped, James had seen him trying to slip into his grandfather’s study and had shoved him hard up against the wall and held him there. Through the open door they could see the police rounding up Peter’s security team.
“It’s okay, mate. The cavalry have arrived,” Andy called. James stepped back letting Sam go, but the look of violence in his eye told him in no uncertain terms what would happen if he tried to escape again.
Sam stood unsteadily, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. His suit was dishevelled and tie askew. James’s lip which had just healed from their last fight had opened again and blood was dripping onto his shirt. He gingerly put a hand to his ribs. He was going to be sore tomorrow.
“What are you doing with my brother?” he asked Sam.
“None of your business,” Sam said.
“Actually, I’m beginning to think it might be,” James said. He strode over to Alex’s door and turned the handle. Locked. He shook it and banged his fist on the door.
“Alex! Open up,” he shouted.
There was no answer.
He turned as Max strode into the foyer.
“Have you found her?” he asked.
James shook his head.
“Who? Not Stephanie?” Sam asked. He sat down heavily on the bottom step of the staircase.
“Yes, Stephanie. What do you know about her disappearance?” Max roughly pulled him to his feet, his voice a barely controlled growl.
“Nothing, sir,” Sam said, unable to meet Max’s eyes.
“Bring Peter in here,” Max called through the open doorway to Vince.
Peter was frogmarched back into the foyer.
“You have a lot of questions to answer, my friend,” Max said as he held up his hand in a stop motion, as Peter started to speak, “but first things first. Where. Is. My. Daughter?” he finished the sentence shouting.
Peter looked confused and a little wary. “I know nothing of Stephanie’s whereabouts,” he said slowly.
“Have you asked James here? The last time I saw her, she was disappearing on the back of his bike,” Sam spat.
Max gave him a withering look. “A lot has happened since then,” he said. He turned back to Peter and said, “I trusted you. Please don’t tell me that you are involved with Alex Knox and his shady business deals?”
Peter averted his eyes.
“Dude, I’ve found it.” Andy came bounding down the stairs carrying several large sheets of rolled paper. “These plans are from 1860 and these ones are from 1935 – both show extensive cellars and tunnels with several entrances,” he said. He stopped short when he saw the foyer crowded with people. “Ah…”
“Where are the entrances – let me look.” James shoved a pile of newspapers off the circular table in the centre of the foyer and helped Andy unroll the plans.
“What’s this about plans and cellars?” Max asked impatiently.
James sighed and began to explain, “According to your uncle’s memoirs, apparently my grandfather used the wine cellars to smuggle Germans out of Europe before and during the war. We’ve been talking to Michael, who read part of the memoir and he thinks that maybe whoever Alex has working for him may have Stephanie hidden in those cellars. Trouble is, I have lived here all my life and I don’t know of any tunnels or cellars beneath the house,” he said.
“Speaking of grandfathers – where’s yours?” Max asked. “I have a few questions for him. Surely he must have heard this commotion?”
“You would think. But he’s not well and takes a sleeping pill each night, so chances are he has slept through it,” James replied.
Max looked long and hard at Peter, who continued to shake his head and held his hands in front of him, backing away from Max, until he ran into the solid form that was Vince.
“Were you involved with just Alex or the old man too?” Max asked.
“Just Alex, but I was of the understanding that the old man was happy to let Alex do all of the negotiating,” Peter said.
“Huh – you mean Alex steamrollered him – he’s old. He doesn’t know what day of the week it is half the time,” James hissed.
“Where is Alex now?” Max asked.
“He’s locked himself in his study,” James spoke up, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand and pointing at the closed door to Alex’s study.
“Vince?” Max indicated toward the study door with his chin.
Vince rattled the door handle. Still locked.
“Marks?” Vince signalled to the detective who had just walked into the foyer. Together they shoulder-charged the door. Apart from a slight splitting sound, it didn’t budge.
Vince reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed a roll of fabric. Inside were several long metal objects a little like crochet hooks. Crouching down he inserted two into the lock on the door and twisted. There was a click and the lock sprung open.
“Handy skill to have,” Andy commented dryly to James.
Holding their guns aloft, Vince and Marks took up position either side of the door. Kicking it wide open, they stepped inside and swept the room with their guns pointed. The study was empty.
“Clear,” Marks called.
“Clear,” Vince agreed after checking behind the large leather chesterfield sofa.
“Where is he then? Gone out a window?” demanded Max.
“No. They are all locked from the inside,” Marks called after checking.
Max turned to James.
“Any ideas – he can’t have just vanished into thin air,” Max said.
James shrugged, at a loss to explain the disappearance, as Andy called out from the foyer. “James – look at this. Does this mean a tunnel entrance?”
James jogged to Andy’s side and together they studied the plans.
“Mr Cooper,” James called. “Can you take a look at this?”
Max examined the plans, running his finger lightly over the parchment. “This looks like steps down here and here,” he said. He pointed to the edge of an internal wall in Alex’s study and also from the sitting room on the opposite side of the entrance foyer.
“Are you sure that your grandfather is not able to help us with this?” Max asked James again.
“No, sir,” Grace spoke up. She had appeared at the bottom of the stairs in her dressing gown with her husband beside her. “You’ll be getting nothing from him ’til morning. I’ve just checked and he’s sleepin’ like a baby,” she said.
Max raised his eyebrows at James questioningly.
James nodded. “Yeah, I know it looks convenient. But it’s true. This is our housekeeper Grace and her husband Ken,” he added introducing them.
DI Marks and Lt David joined them in the foyer. They had been listening to the conversation and leaned over to study the plans. “Okay, then let’s investigate this set of stairs,” Marks said. He pointed to the ones marked on the map in Alex’s study.
“Okay,” said James. “But there’s no doorway or anything in there that I have ever seen.”
DI Marks signalled to two uniformed officers and gave them instructions on looking for a doorway or even trap door. Andy and James joined in the search. While the police officers shifted Alex’s desk and lifted the rugs that were beneath it, James and Andy ran their hands along the gaps in between the bookshelves looking for a doorway.
There was nothing.
“It must have been bricked up years ago,” James concluded.
Andy stood back, studying the bookshelves. He walked over and started pulling out books and stacking them on the floor. James watched him for a few seconds and then joined him. They emptied the top two shelves and stood back looking at it.
“I dunno, mate,” James said. “This looks like a really solid bookcase; he wouldn’t have moved it in a hurry, especially loaded with books.”
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“Let’s try one more row,” Andy suggested, reaching for a large art history volume in the centre of the shelf. There was a loud click as he started to remove it and the whole bookshelf started moving. It swung outwards and he had to leap backwards to avoid it crashing into him.
The two boys peered behind it. There, cut into the wall where the bookcase had been, was an opening and a brick staircase leading down into darkness.