‘We’re going to be here for days,’ Carys grumbled.
Kay didn’t respond. Instead, she stretched her back and peered around at the room once more.
The decor appeared to have been well kept; the paintwork to the panelled walls appeared fresh, and even Kay had to admit the artwork on the walls was tasteful.
Compared with the dingy back of the club they’d entered through, this room was designed to impress.
Her thoughts returned to her conversation with Gareth Jenkins the day before.
If Demiri was providing an exclusive service to some of his clients, and the sort of service was what Jenkins had alleged, then they’d expect a certain level of luxury to their surroundings, she’d bet.
She turned and stared through the window to the public area of the club, then back to the room, and frowned.
She tugged her radio from her belt.
‘Guv? Has anyone found anything to substantiate Gareth’s claims?’
‘Negative. Not yet.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
She shoved the radio back into place and exhaled.
‘Sarge? Might have something here.’
She spun on her heel to see Stewart jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the panelled walls next to the safe.
Kay frowned, and moved closer. ‘What’s that?’
He stood to one side so she could see, and pointed at a metal clasp set between two panels.
‘I’ve seen something like this before. At a bloke’s place in Lenham. He was a banker in the city, and he got burgled one night – bundled his wife and two kids into a custom-built panic room. The hinges on it looked like this.’
Kay ran a gloved hand over the silver-coloured clasp.
‘Any idea how to get it open?’
‘If it’s been sealed from the inside, then we haven’t got a chance in hell of doing it ourselves,’ he said. ‘But otherwise, if we apply pressure to the panels like this, we might find a way.’
He pushed his palm against the indented panel next to the clasp, but nothing happened.
‘All right. Let’s do this systematically,’ said Kay. ‘You start from that corner. I’ll take this one. We move in a grid pattern, got it?’
She was aware of Carys and Morrison moving beside them, but kept her focus on the panels as she and Stewart worked their way across the wall.
Finally, after she was almost ready to concede defeat, a faint click could be heard under Stewart’s touch, and they stepped back in surprise as a whole section of the wall receded.
‘Bingo,’ she murmured, and grabbed her torch.
A narrow landing lay on the opposite side of the opening leading to a flight of concrete steps that descended from the office level.
‘All these old buildings down by the river were built with cellars,’ said Stewart, peering over her shoulder. ‘I remember reading about it once. That’s what made me think of it.’
‘Good work,’ said Kay. She swung her torch down the stairwell.
Stale air wafted up to where they stood at the door opening, a strong scent tainted with body odour – and something else.
Something less tangible.
‘What’s that smell?’ said Carys, her voice a notch higher.
‘Fear,’ said Kay. ‘I think we found what we were looking for.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kay stepped back into the office and pulled her radio free.
‘Guv? We’ve found something in the manager’s office at the back of the building. Looks like the original cellar or something. It was concealed behind a hidden door. I’ll have Stewart stay at the entrance to it in case it swings shut, but I’m taking Carys and Morrison with me to take a look.’
‘Understood. On my way. Maintain radio contact, Hunter.’
‘Will do.’
She signed off, then raised her chin so she could look Aaron Stewart in the eye. ‘I reckon I’m going to struggle enough with the low ceiling down there if the other cellars I’ve seen around this town are anything to go by. You stay here and guide Inspector Sharp when he arrives, and keep that door open, you understand?’
‘Sarge.’
She resisted the urge to shudder at the thought of being entombed below the nightclub if the door swung shut.
‘Carys, Dave, you’re with me. Stay alert. Single file. Carys, I want you in the middle, got that? No deviating from the path I set.’
‘Got it.’
‘Understood.’
Kay nodded. Thankfully, her colleagues were well experienced and she didn’t have to explain that if they found evidence, then the ensuing crime scene investigation would be hampered by any of them not keeping to a strict path in and out of the cellar.
‘All right, let’s go.’
She shone her torch along the wall until she found a panel of switches, and pressed each one. To her relief, lights in the ceiling flickered to life, illuminating their way. She pushed her torch back into her belt, ignored the handrail set into the side of the wall, and made her way down the short flight of stairs.
She could hear Carys’s breath as they descended, the younger detective’s fear all too palpable, but she fought down the urge to turn back.
She had a job to do.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
Casting her eyes around the room, she saw that the basement area took up half of the above-ground space, and had been lined from floor to ceiling with large ceramic tiles.
A shudder passed through her body when she noticed the drain in the middle of the room, a past case flashing in her memory before she exhaled and discarded the thought.
As she raised her gaze, she fought the urge to flee.
Manacles had been set into the wall, dark stains covering the tiles below, aged and stubborn against removal.
She swallowed, then jumped at a tap on her shoulder.
‘Sarge?’
She could hear the tremor in Carys’s voice, but took a step forward, further into the room so her colleagues could follow.
She moved towards the back of the room, her eyes roaming over a steel table onto which a series of knives and other implements had been laid out as if by
