“Poor man. Sure looks like he’s weeping and still afraid,” Malachi said.
“I don’t know if what we hear about his reputation was true, or if it’s been enhanced over the years,” Abby said. “What is true is that his family owned property that’s now part of the cemetery. It expanded in the late 1700s to allow for...well, more time and more dead.”
“Maybe we should try to speak with him sometime,” Malachi suggested. “And the older couple. There might be a way to find out why they’re still here.”
Abby looked at him. “Why is Blue still here, do you think?”
“Maybe he was here for Gus. Or maybe he’s here for you, to help you learn exactly what happened to Gus.”
Roger came back to join them.
“You okay?” Malachi asked him.
“Yeah, sure. Bianca just knew I’d be busy with you two today and she wanted to see some of the sights. We’ll meet up later. Okay. Now we can walk through the city and I can tell you tales as we go. We can visit Christ Church, or the Juliette Gordon Low birthplace or—”
“How about secret Savannah?” Malachi said. “Secret is the most interesting. What do you know about tunnels?”
“Ah!” Roger brightened. “You’ve heard that the city is riddled with tunnels?”
“Secret tunnels,” Malachi said.
“Yeah, and if you’re game, I know where we’ll find some of the best!”
7
“Malachi, there are so many tunnels to choose from,” Roger said happily. “Come on, let’s start walking toward the south again.”
“The south,” Malachi repeated. He pulled the map he’d found on the Black Swan out of his pocket. “Are we going in this direction?”
“Yeah, we can head there. We’ll stand on that spot marked X and I can tell you more.” He moved at a brisk pace and they followed a step or two behind. He paused to look back. “There are lots of tunnels. Some more like catacombs. One I’ve discovered recently that Abby probably doesn’t even know about. Seriously, like I said, the city is riddled with them.”
“I know there are tunnels. I didn’t know the city was riddled with them,” Abby said. “We have the shanghai tunnel at the Dragonslayer that leads to the river. There’s one at the Pirates’ House restaurant, too. And there are houses with tunnels that were part of the Underground Railroad during the Civil War. And, of course, the tunnels near Candler Hospital, but I know they’re off-limits.”
“Yes, there are the Candler Hospital tunnels—truly fascinating, and with very little written history, especially on how and when they were built. Most believe it was during the Civil War. There was once an underground morgue, and autopsies were done there. Some historians note that it was cooler underground, so perhaps it was an attempt to stop the yellow fever and malaria epidemics that used to strike. Oh, and there are the catacombs under an old abandoned church called Saint Sebastian’s.”
He suddenly stopped walking. “We’re on X marks the spot,” he told them.
“Do you know why anyone would have marked this spot on your map?” Malachi asked.
“Well, we’re standing over a tunnel. Other than that? No. There’s nothing here but sidewalk. And some pretty moss-draped oaks next to us.”
“The church is right there,” Abby murmured.
“The church? Saint Sebastian’s? The church you were just talking about?” Malachi asked.
“None other,” Roger told him, obviously gleeful that his knowledge of the city and its history was being fully appreciated. “The church and the tunnels will not be found on official tours. The city’s had a problem at various times with vagrants crawling in. In fact, you can find historic beer cans and cigarette butts at the entries to many of the tunnels,” he said, not hiding his sarcasm.
Abby glanced at Malachi. “X equals underground,” she said. “It doesn’t sound like Helen. I mean, crawling around underneath the ground does not sound like Helen.”
“Helen Long?” Roger looked a little ashen.
“We think this was her map,” Malachi told him.
Roger nodded, clearly perplexed. “Yeah, I gave it to her, but I never saw her mark the map,” he said. “She was just asking me about taking a good tour of the city. She was hoping to leave soon. She’s driven—really wants to act. But she was asking me about the old church. She said she’d talked to someone who was thinking of buying it, as it hasn’t been renovated since the nightclub or worked on by the private company that bought it for historical preservation. This guy she knows wanted to make something out of it like a year-round haunted house. Pirate-themed.”
“How did she hear about it? As far as I knew, it was off the beaten tourist and business track,” Abby said.
“This guy she met, I guess.” Roger shrugged. “Maybe someone who’d taken the tour out on the Black Swan. Helen’s a sweetheart. Kids love her on that ship. Adults, too. Especially guys.”
Malachi nodded. “How about showing us the church?” he suggested.
“I can show it to you—and the catacombs and tunnels, which are kind of one and the same. But it’s against the law since it’s private property. Oh, wait—you are the law, aren’t you?”
“Sure,” Malachi said, looking at Abby. “Well, we really are the law, although I’m still a consultant. But you’re the real deal.”
“So are you,” she said softly. Her voice, her sincerity, stirred something within him.
“Okay,” Roger said, turning back to them. “Let’s go around to the side. Casually, of course. There’s an old, small iron door that was used for ice delivery. We can crawl through that and then through the hallway. Just be careful, okay. I’d rather not draw attention to us as we creep around private property.”
“We shall creep with incredible agility, and quietly,” Malachi said.
They crossed the street. It was actually easy to disappear into the many trees that surrounded the old church. Slipping around the side, Malachi realized that at one time there’d been a delivery path there; he could imagine the horse-drawn wagon that would have carried the ice blocks, could see where it must have parked for the few minutes it took the driver to make his delivery. The ice delivery “door” was about four feet off the ground and had a massive dark metal hatch that opened to allow for a space of about three feet by two.
“You can get in?” Roger asked. He gripped the handle. It was old, hadn’t been oiled in forever and didn’t budge. Malachi stepped past him. “Let me give it a try,” he said.
“I have opened it before,” Roger told him. “Seemed to be easier then.”
Malachi gripped the handle, got it into the open position, then braced a foot against the building and pulled hard. When the door gave, he had to jump back quickly to keep from falling.
“I’ll pop through first. Make sure there are no spiders or snakes!” Roger told Abby.
“You’re afraid of spiders and snakes?” Malachi asked her.
“I’m not particularly fond of either, but I don’t freak out.”
“You used to scream like a girl when you saw a spider,” Roger said.
“I am a girl, but I haven’t screamed at a spider in years,” Abby insisted. Roger merely smiled, then hiked himself up and eased his body through the opening. Abby glanced at Malachi and followed Roger, and then Malachi followed her.