"You don't have plans for these freight tunnels?" Lewis asked incredulously.
In reply, Giannini flipped open her notepad. "I talked to this old guy at the Board of Underground for an hour after you all asked me to check on this. He told me there are no plans on record for those tunnels."
"Well, how far do they go?" Riley asked.
Giannini flipped a page. "When they were first built, they stretched under the city for a little over fifty-nine miles."
"What?" Riley exploded. "Fifty-nine miles!"
Giannini nodded. "I couldn't believe it either. Let me give you a summary of what this guy told me." She flipped back a few more pages. "All right. Let's see. Construction on these tunnels began back in 1898 and they were opened in 1904. They were originally built to carry coal to buildings downtown and reduce congestion in the streets. Apparently the soil down there is some sort of blue clay that's real easy to dig through. They'd have shifts working all night digging out the tunnels and then the day crew would pour concrete to make the walls."
She glanced up. "Here's something interesting. Did you ever read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair?"
Lewis shook his head irritably and Riley just waited. He knew Giannini was pushing the colonel.
"Well, the main character in the book, Jurgis Rudkus, worked as a digger in these same tunnels." She shook her head. "It's funny, I've read the book, but I never thought those tunnels actually existed. Anyway, the last tunnel was built in 1954 for the Prudential Building, but it was never used. The system was shut down in '59. That was the year the Chicago Tunnel Company — the people who built and ran the tunnels — went bankrupt."
"Can we try and find some records from that company?" Riley asked.
"Nope. I asked."
"Who's responsible for the tunnels now?"
Giannini gave a weary smile. "The city. Who else?"
Riley sank down into a folding chair. "Does anyone have any idea where they go?"
Giannini pulled off the top blueprint and displayed a street map. "No one knows the full extent of them. Over the years, parts of the system have been blocked off or destroyed. When they built the subways, they cut through some of the freight tunnel system, especially when they built the State and Dearborn Street subway."
Riley looked at the map. "That's just north of here. You say these tunnels served downtown. Do you have any idea how far they extend in that direction?"
Giannini's finger made a loose circle, enclosing not only the Loop formed by the Chicago River and Lake Michigan, but crossing the river both to the north and west. "They're not only here in the Loop but they go under the river too."
"Does anyone use these freight tunnels?" Merrit asked.
"Yeah," Giannini said. "The city leases some of them to Edison, the power company, and to some cable companies, but they only use a very small portion — a couple of miles at most."
"So we have about sixty miles of tunnels down there where the suspects could be hiding," Riley summarized. "And we have no map of the system, so we have to go in blind and just wander around, hoping we run into them."
Merrit pointed at the map. "They stole the cart here, to the south. The cable crew was missing here, and as far as you can tell, you went almost a half mile in the sewer before you reached the point where they descended to the freight tunnel. I'd say that their hiding place is very far removed from where they go up to the surface."
"Detective," Lewis asked, "do you have any more information on the tunnels that might be of use?"
Giannini looked at her notebook. "Just some odds and ends. There are openings from the tunnels directly into the subbasements of many buildings — that way the coal could be run directly into the buildings. Almost all of those openings have been closed off; as a matter of fact, this old man told me that many of the owners of buildings in the Loop don't even know they were connected to this system or that it even exists." She shrugged. "That's about all I have."
"Thank you," Lewis said. "We'll contact you if we need anything else."
Giannini left without another word, glancing at Riley on the way out.
Lewis faced Riley. "Any ideas?"
"We need more people, sir. We've got more than fifty miles of tunnels to look through. That's going to take awhile."
"The Synbats might not even be in the tunnels themselves," Merrit noted. "They simply might be using them as their road system and actually be hiding in the basement of some building. I'm sure they've found a relatively isolated place to set up their base to take care of the young."
"All we can hope for," Riley said, "is to find some tracks and get lucky."
Lewis sighed. "All right. I'll call General Trollers and try to get some more people up here. Meanwhile, you start from where we know the Synbats were last and work your way north toward downtown."
"I've got tracks!" Trovinsky hissed, his low voice echoing off the concrete walls.
Riley moved up next to him and looked down at the thin layer of mud that covered this part of the floor. Two distinctive pad prints showed up clearly, heading down the freight tunnel.
"All right," Riley said. "Let's go that way."
He'd split his team in half, taking Trovinsky, Caruso, and Carter to the left and sending Doc Seay with three men to the right. The two four-man teams would break down once more to two-man teams when each hit the next intersection. Riley told Seay not to break down below two men, and even at that level he felt uncomfortable facing the Synbats. The FM radios would not work in the tunnels, so they had to rely on IR chem lights to mark their trail. Riley's greatest fear was that one of his teams would be attacked and he might not even know it.
The tunnel rose slightly and Trovinsky paused as the mud disappeared from the concrete floor. He pushed onto the next section of mud and then halted. "They're gone."
Riley looked over his shoulder. The mud was undisturbed. "We didn't pass any turnoffs. How can they be gone?"
Trovinsky looked about. "Remember when they took to the trees back at the Land Between the Lakes?"
Riley nodded.
Trovinsky pointed at the large tubes holding power and cable lines that were bolted to the side wall. "I bet you they're going along those."
"Shit," Riley muttered. "All right, let's keep moving. If they didn't double back on us, they've got to be ahead somewhere."
Doc Seay paused and signaled for his men to take a break. They'd been moving for more than three hours and had covered about three miles of tunnels. They'd spotted Synbat tracks once — the faintest impression in an isolated patch of dirt — but only once. They'd already passed sixteen side tunnels, but Seay had kept his party intact and on a straight course, due north by his compass. Looking at his map in the infrared glow of his goggles, he estimated that they were directly underneath the Loop and close to the river. For all he knew, they might have even gone under the river; it was hard to tell down here.
As Seay was contemplating his location, Bob Philips suddenly hissed for his attention. "Listen," he said, pointing to the next intersection.
Seay cocked his head, ears straining. At first he heard nothing, but then he slowly became aware of an intermittent, very low clicking sound bouncing off the walls — something striking the concrete floor. With hand and arm gestures, he indicated for his team to take defensive positions, oriented toward the intersection ten feet away.
The noise suddenly stopped. Seay held his breath and then the noise started up, louder and quicker this time, but heading away. Seay sprinted to the intersection and caught a brief glimpse of something low to the floor turning the far corner and disappearing.