“She’s right. My grandfather worked in the hotel laundry. They used the tunnel to take the stuff back and forth,” his dad said.
“We’ll need to get through that door,” Greco said. “Our man could be in there.”
“But the other side of the tunnel is bricked,” Martz said.
“We’ll get through the door,” Greco said, and stood up. “I have some calls to make.”
Martz said, “We appreciate the information. Stay the hell out of there from now on.”
Before questioning the kids, Greco and Martz had talked with Bill Meyers. He’d chased a suspect to the caves and lost him; the murders had stopped shortly after. A trip over to the halfway house also yielded nothing.
Now, they were in an abandoned slaughterhouse trying to bust open a door.
They tried a locksmith first. Maria stood in the slaughterhouse’s basement, her shadow thrown on the wall by the work lights set up nearby. Members of the county SWAT team stood around. They were decked out in tactical gear. Some of them carried MP5s. Others had shotguns. Just in case their guy was in the tunnel and didn’t come willingly. Maria felt it was better to have overwhelming force in a situation like this.
The SWAT guys were looking a little pissed off. They’d tried battering the door down with no luck. The locksmith was fiddling with the lock, a stream of curses coming from him.
They also had a welder standing by with an acetylene torch if the locksmith couldn’t get it done.
Martz approached Maria and said, “He’s good at swearing, I’ll give him that. What’s a cock bag?”
“He gets points for creativity.”
The locksmith, who was on his knees fiddling with the lock, stood up. His pants had drooped and his ass crack was visible.
“Think we need to make a crack bust?” Maria whispered to Martz.
“That crack is worth millions on the street,” Martz said.
The locksmith picked up his tool box and came over. He reminded Maria of a black bear. He towered over her and Martz, his hair and beard a wild charcoal color. “I can’t get that motherfucker to budge.”
“Thanks for trying,” Martz said.
“Never seen a goddamned thing like it,” he said, and wandered off, muttering.
Maria turned to the welder, who was on loan from Custom Fabricating. “You’re up.”
The welder slipped on some long leather gloves and flipped his mask down. He snaked out some rubber tubing from the tank that was strapped to a dolly. Carried the welding torch to the door and took out his flint. “Stand back and don’t look at the light.”
He asked one of the SWAT guys to turn on the gas, and the SWAT guy obliged. The welder sparked the flint and a flame popped to life. Maria turned around, as did everyone else in the basement.
The stink of burning metal filled the area. The torch hissed. After a few minutes, she heard the torch cut out and Maria turned around.
The welder lifted his hood. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Maria looked at the door. Not only was it intact, but there wasn’t so much as a scratch on it. “Holy shit, what’s that thing made of?”
“Beats me. Should’ve cut through like butter,” the welder said.
The last option was having SWAT attempt to breach the door with a charge. Maria turned to the captain and said, “You guys are up.”
The SWAT commander, a sad-eyed guy with a bristly mustache, barked orders, telling everyone to clear out of the basement. Two of the SWAT guys helped the welder get the tank upstairs.
They waited on the killing floor of the slaughterhouse while the SWAT team prepped the charge. After a few minutes, someone yelled “Fire in the hole!” There was a hollow bang and the captain appeared at the top of the stairs. He lifted his visor and stroked his chin.
“Well?” Maria said.
“Not a mark on that door. It should’ve blown right off the hinges.”
Maria was stumped.
“Your call detective,” the captain said.
“Stand down. I’ll figure something out,” Maria said.
“What’s the next move?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Maria said.
Maria knew they still had to deal with the other end of the tunnel, the brick wall underneath the mansion. She rounded up the SWAT team and they headed to the mansion, warrant in hand, to give it a try.
Maria pulled up with Jenna in the unmarked. Two patrol cars and the SWAT truck pulled in behind them.
Maria got out of the car. She scanned the mansion, wondering if he killer was watching. The thought of the bloody mark left on her house the other night sent a chill through her. Then there were the clothes those teenagers found in the slaughterhouse; they were waiting for the lab to analyze the blood.
“Hey, space cadet, you ready?” Martz said.
“Yeah. Just thinking about that present he left me on the house.”
“We’ll get him. I know we will.”
The SWAT guys were out of the truck and ready.
“All right. We sweep the house first, just in case our friend is hiding out.”
“You heard the lady. By the numbers. On me,” the captain said, and led the team towards the house.
Maria drew her Glock, and Martz hers. Half the team went in the front, the other through the rear butler’s pantry. They cleared the mansion room-by-room, and when that was done, they headed to the basement.
She led the team to the tunnel. The SWAT guys brought in some battery-powered lights. They didn’t bother with finesse; the SWAT team set charges on the wall and cleared the tunnel.
Another bang and dust rolled from the tunnel. When it cleared, Maria and Martz led them into the tunnel. A haze of dust still hung in the air.
She wasn’t surprised when the brick was still intact. “What the hell is this place made
