“Don’t worry, I’ve fit through tighter spaces,” Jerome said, noticing his employer’s quizzical look. “I’ll just have to breathe in a little, that’s all.”
The bodyguard examined the security guard’s keys that Mary had managed to snatch and found one that looked like it would fit the padlock. With a little effort, the stiff lock snapped open and he lowered the hatch door carefully, interlocking his fingers to provide a boost for the others as they climbed through. Jerome followed shortly afterwards, hoisting his heavy frame through the hatchway with a surprising lack of effort. The group stood in the dark basement, each looking around for a light switch.
“Found it!” Albert flicked on the power.
Leopold looked around the room as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights. The walls, once white, were a speckled mess of gray dust and cobwebs. Running the length of the room were long wooden benches where scientists and students must have once scribbled notes on the piles of now-disused notepads; newspaper clippings; and various manuscripts. In the center of the room were a series of thick countertops at hip height, each complete with gas lines for Bunsen burners. A multitude of cracked and dirty microscopes filled up any empty spaces.
“Wow, this place is even better than I expected,” said Albert, glancing around the room with growing excitement. “I should have come down here years ago.”
“We don’t have time for sightseeing,” said Mary. “We need to find that computer and track down Cupid. It’s only a matter of time before we lose this lead.”
“Agreed,” said Leopold. “Let’s get moving. We’re looking for a storage room, so we can ignore any of the classrooms down here. That should narrow it down considerably. Follow me.”
He led the others out of the dusty laboratory and into the hallway, which was long and thin, with a number of wooden doors on each side. At the end of the hallway, the room split out into a narrow corridor that appeared to run the perimeter of the building. After a few minutes they found a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor, about halfway around. Leopold stepped forward.
“This is the one. See where the handle has been used recently?”
The consultant pointed at oily marks that had tarnished the brass handle, then opened the door and stepped inside. Turning on the light, he smiled as he saw what waited for them inside. The room looked like it used to be an office, although now the dust and decay had rendered it useless. On top of the grimy desk in the center of the room stood an ancient computer monitor, taking up most of the space. Leopold strode over and found a keyboard and mouse hooked up to a battered desktop computer that was nestled underneath the desk. He tapped the keyboard and the monitor flickered to life, displaying simple green text on a black background asking for a recipient’s email address. The cursor blinked impatiently.
“This shouldn’t take too long,” said Leopold, typing feverishly. “I just need to access the root logs for the system and find the exact time this machine was last used.”
“And that will give us Cupid?” asked Mary.
“Not directly. But it will give us the exact date and time the last email to Christina was sent, which we can cross-reference with the security logs to find out who was nearby at the time.”
“Clever,” said the police sergeant. “But what if Cupid came in through the tunnels, like us? He wouldn’t be logged with security.”
“Judging by the old padlock we had to break to get in, nobody’s been in that way for years, so the only alternative is to come through from above. And that would require fairly high level access.”
“So it’s probably not a student,” said Mary.
“Not likely,” replied Leopold. “Here we go.”
The monitor filled with a long list of time stamps, listing the exact dates and times each time the machine had been accessed.
“Looks like this computer’s never been reformatted,” said Albert.
“Well, that definitely helps us,” said the consultant, peering at the screen. “The last time this machine was used was two days ago, just before midnight.”
“That was the day before Christina went missing,” said Mary.
“All we have to do now is get to the security files and narrow it down to show who was in the building around the time the email was sent, and who left shortly afterwards. It should be a short list,” continued Leopold. “Let’s start by giving our security guard friend a quick visit. He’s probably wondering where his keys have gotten to by now.”
Chapter 26
Leopold’s eyes took a moment to readjust to the dim, murky passageway, but his mind was already racing. Now they had a lead. A solid lead. Once they coaxed the entry logs out of the security guard, it would be easy enough to track down Cupid and get some answers. As they reached a tight corner, Jerome called out from behind in a hoarse whisper, and Leopold stopped to turn around.
“I’ll go at the front,” said Jerome. “Visibility down here is poor, and I should be taking point.”
Leopold didn’t bother to argue. Directions from Jerome were rarely optional. He stood aside to let the bodyguard pass and took up a following position next to Albert and Mary, who were whispering to each other about something he couldn’t quite make out. Albert stopped talking and looked up at him.
“I just wanted to thank you,” he said, “for letting me come along with you. It’s by far the most fun I’ve had in years. I honestly thought my tunnelers days were behind me.”
“No problem,” said Leopold.
“No, really. My life isn’t exactly what you’d call…exciting. But this, well this is something to tell the grandkids!”
“Don’t mention it.”
The tour guide beamed and fell quiet as Jerome hissed a warning from ahead. Most of the light bulbs that hung from the tunnel ceiling were either flickering weakly or had gone out altogether.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “I heard something up ahead. Follow me. Slowly.”
What happened next was almost too fast to register. A sound like a whip crack reverberated through the narrow tunnel as a precise, controlled explosion shattered the stonework off the wall at Jerome’s shoulder. The blast threw him sideways, slamming his head against the opposite wall. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. Almost simultaneously, Leopold heard a series of identical blasts erupt behind him, sending shards of stone flying through the passageway in a synchronized series of explosions that snaked down the tunnel walls and across the ceiling like a string of firecrackers. Mary and Albert ducked down, hands clasped over their ears, avoiding the majority of the debris.
A few seconds later, the dust began to clear. The tunnel behind them had collapsed from the force of the explosions, sealing off the way back.
“Is everyone OK?” hissed Leopold.
“What the hell was that?” responded Mary.
“I can’t see a thing!” said Albert.
“Jerome’s out cold,” continued the consultant, his ears ringing, “and the way back is sealed off.”
“We have to keep moving,” said the police sergeant.
“It’s a trap,” said Leopold. “Whoever set those explosions wasn’t looking to just knock us out; they were meant to kill us and bury us down here.”
“So why are we still alive?” asked Albert, shaking slightly.
“Most people would have been killed by that first blast. It was positioned directly at head height. Head height for anyone other than Jerome, anyway. The secondary explosions were to seal off the tunnel. I expect our attacker will collapse the other end once he’s inspected his work,” said Leopold.
“Inspected his work?” repeated the tour guide nervously.
“He’ll be expecting clean kills, but he’ll be down to check.”