Chapter 47
Sean opened the old metal door and peered inside. “There’s a stairwell,” Sean said, still on the phone with Rivers.
“Be careful,” Rivers replied.
Sean removed his pistol from its holster and clicked on the small light at the end.
When Sean shone his light into the darkness, he found a staircase spiraling downward. He had no idea how deep it would go, but he was prepared to go all the way.
Sean kept the door behind him open as he went down, not wanting to get sealed inside and stuck, with no one knowing where he was.
He moved slowly, mindful of the old cast-iron steps which thudded loudly with each footfall.
It was impossible to stay completely silent, so if there were anybody down there, it would be obvious that someone was coming.
Sean couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of the original design and whether it was used to warn people when cops were coming down the steps during Prohibition.
After what felt like several flights of stairs, Sean eventually reached the bottom, where another metal door was sealed shut. This one had a small peephole, no doubt used to make sure whoever was on the other side wasn’t a cop.
“Okay,” Sean said quietly into the phone. “Looks like there’s another door. I’m going to go through.”
Sean waited for Rivers to reply, but when he glanced down at the phone, he found the signal had been lost.
Sean placed his hand on the door handle and kept the pistol gripped with his other hand, finger on the trigger, and the light attached to his gun the only light in the dark stairwell as he prepared to face whatever was on the other side.
In one swift motion, Sean opened the door and stepped inside. If he had expected to find a gang of mobsters down below with a heroin operation or to find Karla Grayson tied up with the kidnapper holding a gun to her head, he would have been wrong.
Instead, Sean found the remnants of the old speakeasy.
The bar sat to the left and looked as if it were carved from a single piece of wood.
A thick blanket of dust covered the surface, but the craftsmanship was remarkable.
Behind the bar were more shelves with a variety of liquor bottles, most of them empty, but some of them still had a few concoctions inside.
Scattered around the rest of the room were tables, chairs, and the remnants of a dance floor. Beyond the dance floor was a stage with old music equipment, including a microphone, speakers, an old piano, and a drum kit.
A few chandeliers hung from the ceiling, all of them covered in cobwebs. As Sean swung his gun’s light over the interior, he found red velvet seats carved into cutouts along the wall, creating an intimate, private setting in such a large space.
But while Sean found the remnants of the speakeasy, he saw no signs of the missing girl or anyone else down below.
Sean moved carefully between the chairs and tables, past the stage, which had an open doorway on the left.
He entered and found another large room filled with old casino equipment.
Craps tables, roulette wheels, and poker tables filled the space.
There was another smaller bar at the end of the room and more bar tables and stools sprinkled around a poker table.
Sean circled the room again, looking for any sign of Karla Grayson or anybody else that might be down below, but he found nothing.
Once both rooms had been searched, Sean stepped up onto the stage and found a small backstage area. It was there that he found more bricks of cocaine and more cash. It was ten times the amount he had seen in the air vent in the murder room.
While Sean was backstage, he jumped at a heavy thud coming from the stairwell. He immediately raised his weapon and stepped back out onto the stage. The stairwell door was closed.
Sean hopped off the stage and sprinted toward the door. When he pulled at the handle, it was locked. Sean tried the handle a few more times, shoving it as forcefully as he could, but it wouldn’t budge.
He was trapped.