The Fall

by Sean Moynihan

  “Yes, sir,” Murphy answered. “Just show me the way.”

  Falconer motioned for the other men to get ready to cross the street with him, and signaled to Bly, Riis, and Levine to follow up in the rear. As she situated herself behind the policemen, Bly exchanged brief pleasantries with Levine, and Falconer looked back with an exasperated glare. He then turned to Halloran. “Jimmy, please signal the inspectors to join us,” he said.

  “Got it,” Halloran said, and he walked over several paces and waved his arms at the other men down the street.

  “All right, everyone,” Falconer said, “there’s no telling who might be down in that basement, so be alert. James and Jimmy, draw your weapons.”

  Waidler and Halloran did as instructed while Falconer pulled out his own revolver and looked across the street again. “Let’s go, folks,” he said.

  He then ran across the street, signaling to the inspectors and Kramer and Winter as he ran. Arriving at the church property, he looked down at a small set of stone steps and the large wooden door at the bottom. Houllier, Penwill, Kramer, and Winter arrived at a trot, and Penwill spoke up upon seeing Bly and Riis: “Well, by golly, it’s Miss Bly and Mister Riis—fancy seeing you here. We’ve got quite a party now.”

  “Hello to you, inspector,” Bly said.

  “Yes, and I think you met Inspector Houllier already,” Penwill said.

  “Yes, bon soir, inspector,” Bly said, smiling.

  “Bon soir, mademoiselle,” Houllier said, doffing his hat.

  “And these two gentlemen are Officers Winter and Kramer, Miss Bly,” Penwill said. “Gentlemen, this is Miss Nellie Bly the journalist, and this is Jacob Riis, also of the newspapers.”

  “Good evening, officers,” Bly said.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Winter said, peering excitedly at Bly. “Never thought this old beat cop would actually meet a famous person on the job. Look at that, Kramer—it’s really Nellie Bly.”

  Kramer nodded slightly, and then Falconer interrupted their chat: “All right, people, let’s get back to the task at hand. Murphy, you think you can figure out that lock?”

  “I can certainly try, detective sergeant,” Murphy said. “If I may?”

  Falconer nodded and Murphy descended the several steps to the wooden door. Bending down, he peered through the keyhole that was set in a large, bronze escutcheon. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out two long, metal pin-like instruments. Placing one into the keyhole, he bent it slightly and then inserted the other metal pick into the hole, as well. Jiggling the picks for several seconds, he then caused the door lock to emit a clicking sound and quickly extracted the picks, placing them back into his pocket. “What is it you French say, Inspector Houllier?” he asked. “Voila?”

  “Well done, Murphy,” Falconer said, walking down the steps. He then pressed down on the door handle, pushed gently, and the door opened slightly. “Looks like your job is done and you can go. But a reminder: if you say anything of this to anyone, you can bet that we will find you, understand?”

  “Absolutely,” Murphy said, smiling. “Not a word, not a word.”

  “Good, and thanks,” Falconer said. “Oh, and one other thing: you’re done operating in the 5th Ave Hotel, got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Murphy said, tipping his hat. “Message received. Good evening to you all.”

  He then walked up the steps and ran across the street, disappearing into the darkness.

  “Well, I can see that he’s not a regular employee with your police department,” Bly said.

  “One does what one has to do, Miss Bly,” Falconer said. “All right, gentlemen, we’re going in. Weapons at the ready. Winter, do you all have those gas lamps?”

  “Got ‘em, boss,” Winter replied, holding out two, small gaslit lamps.

  “Let’s light ‘em up,” Falconer said. “I’ll take one, and Jimmy, you hold one, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” Halloran said, walking over to Winter and taking the lamps and lighting them. “Here you are, detective sergeant.”

  “Thanks,” Falconer said, taking one of the lamps with his free hand. “Ready everyone? Good. Then let’s go in, nice and easy.” He then motioned for Waidler to open the door wider.

  “Um, one thing, detective sergeant?” Bly said quickly.

  “Yes, Miss Bly?” Falconer said.

  “Isn’t this a violation of the group’s rights, if you don’t have a search warrant?”

  “It’s not their church, Miss Bly,” Falconer answered. “It’s the Catholic Church’s property, so this mysterious band of assassins can’t complain if we go in and look around.”

  “Well, then, maybe the Catholic Diocese might have a problem with this,” Bly said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Falconer said, and then he turned and moved across the threshold of the doorway, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

  81

  Falconer crept into the darkened basement hallway with his lamp in one hand and revolver in the other. He stopped momentarily to listen but heard nothing. He then turned and motioned for Halloran to walk along the opposite wall, with the others following. He kept walking down the hallway until he came to an opened doorway on his right. Sidling up next to it with Halloran and Waidler just behind him, he peered into a large room and saw what appeared to be a makeshift chapel with rows of benches and a raised alter on his left. He then motioned for Waidler and Halloran to enter the room and check it for any movement.

  As the two policemen moved quickly but silently inside, Falconer looked down the hallway again. He could see a few more doorways in the dim light, and then the hallway ended where it intersected with another perpendicular hallway. He motioned for Penwill and Houllier to come up next to him, and they arrived almost instantly. “Why don’t you two go check those other doorways with Kramer and Winter?” he whispered to them. “I’m going to help clear this chapel with Waidler and Halloran.”

  “Understood,” Penwill whispered in reply, and then he signaled for the two officers to join him and Houllier, and the small band of men slowly walked down along the walls of the hallway, revolvers in hand.

  Falconer turned to Levine, Bly, and Riis and held his index finger up to his mouth. “Stay here and be very quiet,” he whispered. “We’re just checking out the chapel here.”

  The three nodded in reply, and Falconer then moved rapidly into the large chapel. He could see that Waidler and Halloran were already on the other side, checking out the pews and various hidden corners and crevasses in the wall, and so he turned to the raised alter and moved over to look behind it. Seeing nothing, he looked back out onto the pews. It was just a drab, nondescript chapel in a basement of a church under construction—nothing more.

  He then saw movement to his right and raised his revolver, but it was only Penwill leading the other men into the room. Penwill walked up onto the alter and spoke to him, slightly louder this time: “The basement is empty. There’s no one here at all.”

  “Yes, that seems apparent,” Falconer said, speaking in a normal voice this time. “If anyone met here tonight, they’ve already gone.”

  “Boss, no one in here,” Waidler said, walking up to the alter with Halloran.

  “Yes, that seems to be the case,” Falconer said, putting his revolver back into its holster. “Jimmy, could you go bring the others in, please?”

  “Yes, sir,” Halloran replied, and then he walked out of the room momentarily and returned with Levine, Riis, and Bly.

  “Well, everyone,” Falconer said, “there’s no secret meeting here tonight. I guess we were wrong about that note that our friend dropped up on the roof.”

  “But it was very clear,” Penwill said. “8:00 PM tonight at this address. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yes, but we were out there for some time,” Falconer pointed out. “And we saw no one enter this place.”

 
“Indeed, we did not,” Penwill said.

  “Could it be,” Houllier interjected, “that someone was alerted to the fact that the suspect’s note was left on the roof, and therefore, the meeting was abruptly canceled?”

  “That’s always a possibility, I’m afraid,” Falconer answered. “We just can’t be sure, of course.”

  “Or perhaps,” Levine said, stepping forward, “the meeting did take place tonight here at this address, but it did not occur in this basement.”

  Falconer looked at Levine, as did the others in the room, and then he spoke: “Not in this basement, professor? Then where could it have occurred?”

  “It is just speculation at this point, of course,” Levine said, “but perhaps it occurred just below us.”

  “Below us?” Falconer said quizzically. “But there’s nothing below us but earth and brick and mortar foundation.”

  “Perhaps,” Levine said, “but there is the slight possibility that this group meets in secret, as-yet-undiscovered chambers built below this building.”

  “But that is fantastique, professor,” Houllier said. “How can you just say there might be secret chambers below?”

  “Well, it has to do a bit with American history,” Levine answered, slowly walking around the group. “American history and a little private sleuthing if you will. Plus, some plain conjecture, of course.”

  “Go on, professor,” Falconer said.

  “As some of you might know,” Levine explained, “General George Washington took command of colonial forces here in New York City at the beginning of the Revolutionary War. He knew that the British would try to take the city sometime in 1776, and so when he set up his headquarters down on Broadway at the bottom of this island, he also took up residence in the Mortier House just south of where we stand right now—at the intersection of present day Varick and Charlton Streets.”

  “And how does Washington’s temporary residence in New York relate to alleged hidden chambers beneath us?” Falconer asked.

  “Well,” Levine continued, “Washington knew that the British could potentially bombard his headquarters and residence from the river, or even invade the island very quickly, which would necessitate a quick and, shall we say, stealthy escape north.”

  “And so?” Penwill asked.

  “So,” Levine said, “there have long been rumors—unconfirmed, of course—that Washington had a series of underground chambers and tunnels built near to the Mortier House in early 1776 so that he and his wife and staff could have a rapid means of escape undetected from the invading British forces up on the streets. And we are presently standing just north of where the Mortier House used to be. We are standing directly along the expected escape route that Washington would have taken in an emergency.”

  “Well, this is rather fascinating, professor,” Falconer said, stepping closer to him. “But if no one has ever found these secret chambers, how can we expect to find them?”

  “Admittedly, that is a difficult question to answer,” Levine replied. “But again, if it were true, it would present the perfect clandestine meeting place for our mysterious band of assassins. I would imagine that if the chambers did exist underneath this spot, the entrance would be somewhere out there, perhaps closer to the Hudson’s shores. Or, then again, there could be an entrance that we have just not discovered inside of this church basement.”

  “Well, this is a whole lot of conjecture, professor,” Falconer said, “but I suppose it’s worth a try to find some sort of entrance in here. Let’s all take a careful look around, especially at the floors, all right?”

  “This is grand!” Bly said excitedly. “A secret entrance to a long-forgotten series of tunnels that George Washington himself built in the moment of crisis in our nation’s founding. Imagine, Jacob!”

  “Yes, Nellie,” Riis said, “I am almost speechless. What a story this would make.”

  “Let’s not worry about the story just yet, please,” Falconer said. “Let’s first see if this thing really exists. Come on—break up into two groups, each with a lantern.”

  He then moved off with the two inspectors, Bly, and Riis, while the others formed a group utilizing the light from the lantern that Halloran carried. Moving out into the hallway, he led his companions slowly towards another doorway leading into an anteroom off the main chamber. Walking in, he raised the lantern higher and looked about the room: there were a few desks against the walls, some cabinets fastened above them, and some boxes piled up in a corner. “Anyone see anything?” he asked, looking back at the others.

  “Nothing,” Riis said, peering around the darkened room.

  “Same for me,” Bly sighed. “Nothing.”

  “I’m afraid there isn’t anything in this room,” Penwill said.

  “Yes, I think you’re right,” Falconer said. “Let’s go into the next one.”

  They moved out into the hallway and walked a bit farther until they came to the next doorway. It led into a storage room of some sort, which was cramped and difficult to navigate, being stuffed with a large amount of church supplies and furniture. Falconer led the others in and searched the room for a few minutes, ultimately finding no trace of any trapdoor.

  They did this is succession, moving on to two more rooms and thoroughly searching for any sign of an entrance to an underground tunnel, but found nothing. Falconer finally turned to the others and motioned for them to head back to the main chamber. “I think we’ve searched every room down here,” he said, “and the others apparently haven’t any success, either. Let’s head back to the main room.”

  As he led them back down the hallway in the darkness, holding the lantern high, he called out to the other group: “James! We can’t find anything, so we’re headed back to the chapel!”

  Waidler called back immediately from out in the darkness: “Got it, boss! Nothing over here, either!”

  “Well, we tried, folks,” Falconer said. “Maybe it’s like the professor said: there could be some sort of entrance out there on the street, or along the docks.”

  “Yes, it was a longshot,” Penwill said, “but worth the effort while we were here.”

  They came to the entrance to the chapel and walked in, meeting the others. “Well, professor, I’m not saying your theory is wrong just yet,” Falconer said. “There could be some sort of passageway leading from the street or the river, as you said.”

  “Yes, I know this all sounds quite farfetched, ladies and gentlemen,” Levine said, “but I’m not ready to disavow it yet.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to keep looking,” Falconer said. “Meantime, it’s clear no meeting happened in here tonight. Let’s head back to the street.”

  He started walking out with the others but then stopped when he noticed Bly over near the wall behind the small alter, gazing upon a collection of marble figurines of Jesus and other biblical characters that stood fixed against the ornate back wall. “Miss, Bly,” he said, “are you coming?”

  “Oh, yes, sorry,” Bly said with a smile. “I was just admiring these little statuettes here. Such wonderful detail and craftsmanship. I wonder who sculpted them.”

  “Well, you’ll have to come back and take some more time with them when the church is open,” Falconer said.

  “Yes,” she replied, softly touching the side of the figurine of a young shepherd boy standing with his staff and a flock of sheep. “I’ll make sure to do tha—”

  Suddenly the figurine moved slightly, and a portion of the wall appeared to start moving backwards. Bly yelped and stepped back a couple of feet, appearing frightened at the sudden movement of the chapel wall.

  “What the hell?” Falconer said, stepping forward and grabbing her by the arm.

  The others slowly started moving into the room again, and Waidler, Halloran, Winter, and Kramer pulled out their revolvers. Penwill stepped forward and peered into the doorway that had opened in th
e wall, then turned to Levine. “Well, professor,” he said with a grin, “I think Miss Bly has just stumbled upon George Washington’s secret underground chambers.”

  82

  Falconer gently moved Bly behind him, as if to protect her, and then he raised his lantern and peered into the opening in the chapel wall. The hidden doorway was about five feet high and two feet wide—certainly large enough for a grown man to walk through. He then turned to the others and spoke: “It looks like our evening isn’t over quite yet. And professor, you might have just helped discover one the great historical finds of the century. Is everyone all right with going in? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  He looked around at the others, who all nodded eagerly. “All right, then,” he said, “gentlemen, keep your weapons handy, and Miss Bly, Mister Riis, and Professor Levine, you stay in the back—understand?”

  “Yes, detective sergeant,” Bly replied.

  “Understood,” Riis said.

  “Yes, of course,” Levine said.

  “Okay, then, here goes,” Falconer said. “Follow me—quietly.”

  He raised his lantern a little higher, held his revolver up near his shoulder, and then bent down slightly and walked through the doorway. As he moved slowly into the space, he saw that some stone steps started to descend just a few feet in front of him. He turned and pointed them out to the others, then started walking again. Arriving at the top of the stairs, he started walking down until he came to a wide, brick hallway that, to his surprise, was brightened with gaslights fixed to the walls every twenty feet or so. He gazed down the hallway and saw no one, and then walked back a few steps and whispered to the others: “As you can see, they’ve got working gaslights on down here, so be careful—we could encounter our suspects.”

  Turning forward again, he walked slowly down the hallway as Waidler, Halloran, Winter, Kramer, and the two inspectors spaced out along each wall with their revolvers at the ready. About forty feet down the passageway, he saw an opening leading into a much larger space. Pointing at this, he motioned for the men to stay along the walls and be ready for contact with any armed suspects.