‘It’s bizarre,’ he replied. ‘From the dog’s reaction, it was obvious there was a very strong scent when the lift doors first opened, and I would have expected him to pick it up on at least one of the floors. The only way I can explain it is that our guy must have got in the lift, changed his mind and got out again.’
‘Is it possible the scent is strongest in the lift because it’s in such a confined space?’
‘Yes, but I’ve never seen him react so positively to a trail and then just lose it.’
Gervaux inspected the stainless steel panels that made up the interior of the lift, first visually and then with his hands.
‘What are you looking for? A secret trap door?’ Lavelle scoffed.
The elevator came to an abrupt stop. The dog and its handler got out. Lavelle positioned his body to stop the doors closing again, whilst the inspector carried on with his investigation.
‘How long would you say it took us to get from the third floor down to here?’ Gervaux asked, scrutinising the button panel.
‘Five, maybe six seconds,’ Lavelle replied, unsure where this was going.
‘And how long did it take for the lift to arrive when we first got here?’
The truth was that Lavelle hadn’t been paying much attention. ‘Longer?’ he ventured.
‘A lot longer,’ Gervaux corrected.
Still baffled by what his boss was intimating, Lavelle fell silent, trying to join the dots in his head. Then it struck him. His face lit up and, like an excited schoolboy trying to impress his teacher, he blurted out the answer. ‘You think there may be another level above the third floor that we haven’t been able to get access to.’
Gervaux shook his head in exasperation. ‘Don’t you think we’d be able to see that from the outside of the building?’
Crestfallen, Lavelle turned to the dog handler, who was trying, and almost succeeding, to suppress a laugh.
‘I want detailed plans and drawings of the entire complex, above and below ground,’ Gervaux ordered.
Lavelle passed on the command to the only person he could. ‘You heard the Inspector. Don’t just stand there sniggering. Go get the drawings.’
Tom was less than three feet away from the edge of the platform when his prayers were answered. At first, he thought he had imagined the voice, like some divine intervention. But, as the words were repeated, he became aware of a presence behind him.
‘Sahib? Professor Sahib?’
He strained to look over his shoulder to see the svelte-like frame of Ajay climbing over the top of the metal ladder.
‘Ajay! How..? What..? It doesn’t matter — we haven’t got much time. I need you to stop this thing. There’s a red button on the end of this carriage. Press it!’
Ajay ran over and stretched up to the emergency stop button. However, even at his full height, he was a foot too short.
‘I can’t,’ he called out. ‘It’s too high up.’
‘Okay,’ said Tom. ‘You need to get on my shoulders and then you should be able to hit it. But hurry!’
There was less than two feet before the floor ran out. Ajay scrambled onto Tom’s back and, with the agility of a chimpanzee, climbed onto his shoulders. He reached out, but he was at the wrong angle; he was too far forward to be able to stretch around the end of the carriage to press the button.
The extra weight on Tom made the bindings on his wrists cut deeper into his flesh, making him wince, perspiration spontaneously forming on his top lip. But then, just as suddenly the pain subsided, the pressure forcing him downwards was relieved. He looked up to see that Ajay had climbed onto the rail and was edging himself backwards.
Tom was now on the brink of being pulled off the platform. He strained to keep his footing, but his smooth-soled shoes couldn’t get a purchase on the metal floor.
‘Now, Ajay!’ Tom cried.
Ajay leapt off the rail towards his target. He knew that he would only have the one chance. Fortunately, the movement was choreographed to perfection — he hit the button dead centre and the train came to a shuddering halt. He had been concentrating so much on his objective that he hadn’t contemplated his landing, and he struck the gantry with a resounding thud, knocking the wind out of him.
Tom balanced over the edge at a forty-five degree angle; the heels of his shoes were the only part connecting him to the platform. He tried to look back to see what had caused the commotion, but couldn’t crane his neck far enough to see.
‘Ajay? Are you alright?’ No answer. He tried again. ‘Ajay, are you hurt?’ This time he heard movement, followed by a rasping sound as Ajay tried to catch his breath.
‘I’m… fine,’ Ajay gasped, still trying to suck in enough air to fill his lungs.
‘Thank God.’ Tom let out a sigh of relief. ‘Can you get to my bindings?’
Ajay got unsteadily to his feet and made his way over to Tom.
‘Climb over me and onto the rail again,’ Tom instructed. He braced himself against the inevitable pain as Ajay clambered on his back and then onto his shoulders before leveraging himself up onto the track, with less deftness than before. Tom gritted his teeth, knowing that the agony would soon pass.
‘Can you bite through the ties?’
‘No need, Sahib. I have a penknife.’ Ajay reached into his pocket and produced his trusty Swiss army knife. He selected the sawing tool and went to work. The lightweight plastic handcuffs were no match for the sharpened teeth of the blade; within two strokes, one was completely cut through. The sudden release caught Tom off-guard, forcing him to lean against the remaining tie to stop himself toppling over.
‘Give me a second to get my balance,’ he shouted up to Ajay, who was poised to slice through the second thin plastic cuff. ‘Okay, but slowly this time.’
Tom tried to anticipate the breaking point, shifting all his weight onto his heels. It still caught him out when the band snapped, but he had judged it right and he toppled backwards, landing safely, if not a little undignified, on his rear.
‘Sorry, Sahib,’ Ajay shouted down at him.
With no time to waste, Tom sprang to his feet and dusted himself off. He eyed the carriage above his head that he had been shackled to and judged that, if he could just jump high enough, he should be able to cling onto it and use it to haul himself onto the rail.
He bent his knees and launched himself upwards. His fingers caught the upper edge of the wagon and he held on. Using his upper body strength, he slowly pulled himself up. At times like these, which weren’t that often, he wished he had his brother’s physique. His arms strained to lift the dead weight, his face flushed under the exertion and veins protruded, throbbing at his temples, but he was determined not to give up. With a final gargantuan effort, he hauled his torso onto the carriage and let his legs dangle over the edge, out of breath and exhausted.
Ajay grabbed him by the arm and gently coaxed him onto the rail. They sat side by side for a moment whilst Tom recuperated. ‘Thanks, Ajay. You may have just saved our lives,’ he managed to say between pants.
‘According to the plans, the lift shaft descends to a corridor, which leads to a large room.’ Gervaux pointed out the features on the drawings, which were laid out on the floor of the first floor office in the disused building.
They had taken refuge there from the biting cold of the car park whilst waiting for the dog handler to return. Despite being indoors, Gervaux’s breath fogged as he spoke. ‘How can we get access to that room?’ He was directing his comment at the Chief Security Officer, whose curiosity had overridden his desire to stay in the warmth of his office.