"Mom, you ought to get a holster," Tucker advised.
"She ought to get a new brain. She has no business being here." Pewter, a grumbler by nature, was nonetheless correct.
"We'd better be on red alert. We can't turn her back." Murphy's tail puffed up, then relaxed. She had a bad feeling about this.
Coop opened the back door as the animals scampered in. Harry noiselessly stepped through and Coop shut the door without clicking the latch. They walked down toward the boiler room, stopped, and listened. Far away they could hear the rattle of the elevator cables; the doors would open and close but they heard no one step out. Then the cables rattled more.
The animals listened intently. They, too, heard no one.
The two women stepped inside the boiler room, the large boiler gurgling and spewing for the night was cold. Coop checked the pressure gauge. She had respect for these old units. The trick was keeping the pressure in the middle of the gauge, which looked like a fat thermometer.
"This place was supposed to be on the Underground Railroad. The first thing we checked when Hank was killed was whether the wall was hollow behind what had been the old fireplace. Nothing," Cynthia whispered.
"You checked all the walls?"
"In every single room."
"Follow me," Mrs. Murphy commanded.
"Yeah, come on," Tucker seconded her best friend.
As the animals pushed and prodded the two humans, Sam Mahanes pulled into his reserved parking space right next to Jordan Ivanic's car. It was seven twenty-five. If the two of them were to meet with Rick Shaw at eight-fifteen then he'd better prepare Jordan, who, he felt, was a ninny. While Rick asked them about the invoices, Ivanic was capable of babbling about an anesthesiologist who nearly lost a patient. Those things happened in hospitals and Sam was determined that everyone stay on track.
Down in the basement, after a combination of nips, yowls, and pleading, Harry and Coop at last followed Mrs. Murphy and Tucker. Pewter walked along, too, but in a foul mood. Mrs. Murphy and Tucker were showing off too much for her and the only reason she accompanied everyone tonight was that her curiosity got the best of her.
In the distance the animals and humans heard a siren. Someone was being rushed to the emergency room. In the country that usually meant a heart attack, a car accident, or a farm accident.
"In here!" The tiger's tail stood straight up.
Harry reached for the light but Coop put her hand over Harry's. "No." She clicked on the flashlight, half closing the door behind her.
The cartons, neatly stacked, offered no clue to the treasure below.
Tucker ran to the wall, stood on her hind legs, and pressed the stone. Although low to the ground and short, the corgi was powerfully built with heavy bones. The flagstone opened with a sliding sound and thump.
"I'll be damned," Cooper swore under her breath as she flashed the light into the entrance.
In the distance the elevator chains rattled, the doors opened and closed.
The humans didn't hear but the animals did.
"Human. Human off the elevator." Pewter's fur stood straight up.
"Quick. Down the hatch!" Mrs. Murphy hopped onto the ladder, her paws making a soft sound on the wood as she hurried down into the hiding room.
"Murphy!" Harry whispered loudly.
Pewter, no fool, followed suit. Tucker, never one for ladders, turned around and backed down with encouragement from the cats.
By now the humans could hear a distant footfall heading their way.
"Come on." Harry grabbed the top of the ladder, swung herself around, and slid down, her feet on the outside.
Cooper reached down, giving Harry the flashlight, but as she turned around to climb down she knocked over a carton. It tumbled down. She grabbed it, putting it back up, then dropped down the ladder.
"How do we close this damn thing?" Harry realized she might have trapped everyone.
Mrs. Murphy pressed a round red button on the side of the ladder. The top slowly closed.
"Murphy," Harry whispered.
"Hide. Get in the back here and hide behind the machines," the tiger advised.
As the animals ran to the back, the humans heard the heavy footsteps overhead. Whoever was up there was bigger than they were. They moved to the back, crouching down behind pumps stacked on a table.
Cynthia put her finger to her lips, pulled out her gun. Harry did the same. Then Coop cut the flashlight.
The flagstone slid open.
"Can you smell him?" Mrs. Murphy asked Tucker.
"Too far away. All I can smell is this dank cellar."
The light was turned on. The humans crouched lower. One foot touched the top rung of the ladder, then stopped.
"Hey." Bobby Minifee's voice sounded loud and clear. "What are you doing?"
They heard a crack and a thud and then Bobby was tossed down the ladder. He landed heavily, blood pouring from his head. The flagstone closed overhead.
Pewter and Murphy ran to Bobby. Coop crept forward. Overhead they heard something heavy being pulled over the sliding trapdoor.
Harry, too, quietly moved forward. The two women bent over the crumpled young man. Harry took his pulse. Coop opened his eye.
"His pulse is strong," Harry whispered.
Coop looked around for towels, an old shirt, anything. "We've got to wrap his head up. See if you can find anything."
"Here." She handed Coop a smock, unaware that it had been Tussie Logan's.
Coop tore it into strips, wrapping Bobby's head as best she could. "Let's get him off this cold floor."
Harry cleared off a table and with effort they put him on top of it.
As the humans tended to Bobby, Mrs. Murphy considered their options. "Coop and Mom are armed. That's cold comfort."
"I'd rather have them armed than unarmed," Pewter sensibly replied.
"We'd better find a way out of here. For all we know, he's sitting up there trying to figure out how to kill us all."
"There's something over the trapdoor but since it's a sliding door, we could try." Pewter didn't like the cold, damp hole.
"Try what? To open the door?" Tucker asked.
"Yeah, press the button and see what happens." Pewter reached out with her paw.
"Pewter, no," Murphy ordered. "You don't know what's sitting on the trapdoor. You don't know what will fall down. Hospitals have all kinds of stuff like sulfuric acid. Whatever he put up there he figured would either hold us or hurt us. He's a quick thinker. Remember Larry Johnson."
"And he's merciless. Remember Hank Brevard and Tussie Logan," Tucker thoughtfully added.
"My hunch is, he'll come back. He doesn't know who's down here but he suspects something. And he has to come back to kill Bobby. He heard the carton drop. I know he did. He was moving up faster than the humans could hear." Mrs. Murphy's tail twitched back and forth. She was agitated.
"I don't fancy being a duck in a shooting gallery," Pewter wailed.
"Get a grip," Tucker growled.
"I'm as tough as you are. I'm expressing my feelings, that's all."
"Express them once we're out of this mess." Mrs. Murphy prowled along the walls. "Pewter, take that wall. Tucker, the back. Listen for anything. If this was part of the Underground Railroad then there has to be a tunnel off this room. They had to get the slaves out of here somehow."
"Why couldn't they take them out in the middle of the night? Out the back door?" Pewter did, however, go to the wall to listen.
"If everyone is still telling stories about the Underground Railroad, this place was closely watched. Since no one was ever caught, I believe they had tunnels or at least one tunnel." Murphy strained to hear anything in the walls.
"Hey." Pewter's green eyes glittered. "Rats."
Mrs. Murphy and Tucker trotted over, putting their ears to the wall. They could hear the claws click as the rats moved about; occasionally they'd catch a snippet of conversation.
"Now, how do we get in?" Tucker sniffed the floor, moving along the wall. "Nothing but mildew."
"Pewter, you check the ceiling, I'll study the wall." Mrs. Murphy slowly walked along the wall.