by Linda Barlow
Darcy hurriedly copied the file on Fletcher onto her floppy disk and shut down Sam’s computer.
“There’s another way out,” said Vico. “If we crawl all the way down to the east entrance of the cathedral, we can enter one of the basements under the north and the south bell towers. From there we go up the stairs to the bell-tower vestibule and walk right out the west entrance door.”
“How do we know Fletcher won’t be waiting for us there, anticipating our plans?” Annie said.
“He can’t be everywhere.”
“Let’s do it,” Matt said. He was eager for action. Every time he thought of Sam’s betrayal, his brain started to boil.
Ironically, the words he remembered most vividly were his wife’s. It had been during one of those petty, sarcastic arguments that married people tend to indulge in, always knowing the truest ways of striking the other person to the heart. Matt had been reminiscing about his friendship with Sam—how old it was and how good it was to have one person he could always count on.
“How can you claim he’s your friend when the two of you never talk and never spend any time together?” Francesca had asked. “I don’t consider another woman my friend unless we chat on the phone at least once a week.”
“I don’t have to see Sam or talk to him often to know that I can count on him if I need him.”
“How do you know that?” she’d persisted. “Just because you were roommates in college twenty years ago? People change.”
“Trustworthy people never change,” he’d said, somewhat acidly.
“You think so?” she’d said in an even nastier tone. “Then you’re a fool.”
Had she been making love to Sam at the time she’d spoken those words? Probably. Francesca had known that Sam’s loyalty was false.
“Let’s not get sidetracked on Fletcher,” Matt said. “Much as I’d like to strangle him for what he did to Annie—” his eyes burned as he looked at her, “our real problem here is Sam. I say we get out of here as quickly as possible and take Vico and the two versions of the blueprints to the district attorney.”
“Follow me, then,” Vico said. “I’ll lead you out.”
Annie really didn’t want to do it. She was just beginning to feel comfortable in Vico’s cozy little sanctuary under the chapel. Crawling again on her hands and knees through San Francisco bedrock and dirt—which was cold, so cold—made her think of the grave. She felt trapped in a tomb, rock overhead, black earth beneath, utter blackness all around her, surrounded by creatures that live in the dark. How could Vico have spent three weeks down here? The very thought of it made her want to start screaming and never stop.
“What’s the matter, Annie?” Matt’s voice was gentle.
“I’m not sure I can do this.”
“I’m here. Right beside you.”
“What if there’s an earthquake?” She knew it was a stupid question. The remote possibility of an earthquake was the least of their problems now. “We’ll be crushed.”
“I know how you feel,” he said soothingly. “When I was locked in that tiny cell day after day, month after month, I thought I’d start tearing out the walls with my bare hands. I was sure I was going insane.” He paused. Annie couldn’t see, but she could feel his hands squeezing her shoulders. “It’s truly amazing what the human spirit can tolerate.”
“Matt, I’m sorry, I don’t want to let you all down, but I just don’t think I can do this.”
“I love you, Annie. With me at your side, I promise you, there’s nothing you can’t do.”
His words uplifted her and gave her courage. Okay, she thought. Okay, I’ll try.
With her heart in her mouth, she began to crawl.
It felt like the hardest thing she’d ever done, but somehow she made it with the others to the far end of the nave. She had grown increasingly disoriented in the dark, but Vico assured them that they were now near the north bell tower, where there was an exit into the bell-tower basement.
Annie’s heart sank when she heard him say, “Shit. They’ve blocked it.”
“With what?” Matt’s voice was analytical, ready to problem-solve. He also sounded impatient. “Can we get through?”
“Feels like bricks and fresh mortar. No, it’s solid. The damn stuff sets very fast. They’re trying to trap us down here.”
Oh God. Annie lay on her belly in the darkness and felt the panic wash through her. The crawl space was damp and musty, and her flesh crept at the thought of the various insects that were probably invading her clothing right now, attracted to the scent of her fear.
“Let’s try the south-tower basement,” Matt said.
“All right. No point in all of us going. I’ll crawl over there and check it. If it’s blocked too, I’ll be back and we’ll figure out another way.”
“Is there another way?” Annie asked, trying to fight back her panic.
“At the east end of the cathedral there are a couple of other ways out,” Vico said. “But it’s also easier for them to catch us back there.”
“Well, let’s check the south-tower basement first,” said Matt.
Vico was gone for ten minutes. Matt held both her and Paolina, whose voice was also sounding ragged. Annie tried to worry about the girl instead of herself. It certainly couldn’t be easy to crawl through the foundations of the cathedral on a pregnant stomach. But Paolina, though she was tired, did not seem afraid. Her trust in Vico, she declared, was unwavering.
“He’ll get us out, don’t worry,” she assured Annie.
“The same,” Vico said shortly when he returned. “They’re trying to trap us in here. We’ll have to go back to the east end of the building.”
We’re never going to get out of here!Annie thought.
But Matt was right there, holding her, speaking soothingly into her ear. “It’s gonna be okay,” he told her, and she clung to that thought.
The long crawl back was almost unbearable. The smell of the dirt sickened Annie. The blackness pressed around her like a suffocating glove, and it was hard for her to get her breath. She remembered all the stories she’d heard during the excavation about human bones and evil omens. Some of the workmen had whispered that the site was cursed.
It’s a holy place,she told herself sensibly. It can’t be cursed.
At one point Matt’s flashlight caught the red glow of eyes staring at them in the distance. Rats. Predators waiting in the darkness.
Vico heaved a stone at them and they scurried away.
As they once again neared the great cross of the cathedral, beyond which lay the cement-finished basements of the sanctuary area, Annie felt her terror begin to calm. Logically, she knew that this was ridiculous, since the basement was likely to contain the madman who had attacked Matt and very nearly raped her. But she found the thought of Jack Fletcher easier to contemplate than the thought of spending any more time belly-crawling in the foundation.
Gradually, the ceiling got higher and the air smelled fresher. The gloom lightened ahead, and the sight of it was such a relief to her that she began to crawl faster, eager to get to the light, eager to get out.
But Matt grabbed her ankle. “Wait. We left no lights on behind us. Are there electric lights in the basement area, Vico?”
“Bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling at intervals, yeah,” he whispered. “Looks like they’re on now. It’s like I figured. They’re waiting for us here because they know it’s our only way out.”
“No one’s got a flashlight on, I hope,” said Matt.
“We turned them off a ways back,” Vico replied.
A small pebble suddenly jumped into the air about a yard in front of Annie. It was followed almost instantly by a loud report.
“Shit!” Vico hissed. “Get back. He’s shooting at us!”
“Goddammit!” Matt said.
“I can hear you in there, crawling and scurrying like the rats you are,” a male voice called out from the basement area. Annie recognized it: Jack Fletcher.
There
was another crack and an explosion of dirt a few feet to the right of Matthew.
“Send Annie out,” Fletcher ordered. “She’s the only one I care about. The rest of you can rot under there.”
Lying with her chest to the cold ground and tears pricking her eyes, Annie was horrified to realize that she was tempted to go, give up, surrender. Anything seemed preferable to spending another minute in here.
But Matt pulled her back with him, safely out of the range of the bullets. The four of them huddled together, and Matt whispered, “There’s got to be another way out of here, Vico. What about heating ducts? Water mains? The ventilation system? Have you investigated the entire substructure?”
Annie forced herself to focus. Vico was no expert on the kind of thing Matt was asking about. But she was—at least, she should be.
There in the darkness, she concentrated, trying to visualize the engineering plans. This is my building, dammit I know it—or I ought to, dammit. I know it cold.
Think!
“There’s a small trapdoor leading into the crawl space along the south wall,” she said slowly. “The water main comes in at that point from the street. In the old church, which was less than half the size of this one, that was the only source of water. But we’re connected to the water mains on the other side as well, in the basement proper near the water heater.”
She visualized the blueprints of the foundation area. “One of the primary water pipes runs along the south wall, and there’s a cut-off valve in the crawl space where our pipe links with the city’s. Plumbing access was necessary, so we have the trapdoor. It’s in one of the side-aisle chapels.”
“Wow. I never found it,” Vico said.
“Unless you know plumbing, you wouldn’t suspect it was there.”
“We can get out, into the cathedral, through this trapdoor?” Matt asked.
“We ought to be able to, yes.”
“Which chapel is it? How far along the wall?”
“I’m not sure. Somewhere toward the middle, I think. But I’m totally disoriented down here. We’ll have to search them one by one.”
“Come on, then. Let’s find the sucker.”
Once back inside the cathedral, the first and most important thing Sam had to take care of was securing the various exits. He didn’t want to be interrupted while he worked. And he needed to make sure nobody could get into the building—or out—between the time he exited and the moment he detonated the explosives by remote control.
From his sports bag he removed a length of chain and threaded it through the brass handles that had just recently been attached to the huge door at the west entrance. The doors were solid; nobody would get through them.
He secured the chain with a padlock.
He then attended to the north and south transept doors. He planned to exit through the tunnel in the basement that led to the youth center next door. He had parked his car several blocks away. With luck, it wouldn’t be noticed.
Working quickly, Sam moved from pillar to pillar in the nave of the cathedral, planting explosives. He’d chosen six of the columns as the ones most critical. They were stone with a core of steel, and they were designed to withstand the force of a major earthquake. But the building was not designed to withstand the stress of powerful explosives going off simultaneously at all the greatest stress points.
The cathedral would fall.
And what a terrible destruction it would be. Had the church been completed, it would have been more than two years under construction. It would have been the largest cathedral built in San Francisco in modern times.
But it would take less than ten seconds to bring it down.
Chapter Forty-four
“Somebody is walking around inside the cathedral,” Paolina whispered. She and Annie had finally located the right chapel and the trapdoor. Matt was checking one a few yards down and Vico was checking one up on the other side.
Unable to endure being in the crawl space for one second longer, Annie had pried open the trapdoor and hoisted herself up into the chapel. Paolina had followed, and now they were crouched behind a marble statue of St. Joan. “That doesn’t look like Fletcher.”
“There’s a nightwatchman, but he usually doesn’t come inside,” Annie said.
“See for yourself,” Paolina whispered. “Be careful. Don’t let him see you.”
At first Annie didn’t see anything. Then she caught a glimpse of a dark figure, moving quietly but not stealthily. He seemed confident, capable, and not concerned about being seen. He was standing back and looking at something at the base of one of the columns that held up the barreled arch of the roof. He approached the column, bent down, and examined something at its base. Then he backed up again and nodded. He lifted something from the floor and moved up the nave toward the next column.
It was Sam.
Annie’s heart began to race. He was dressed entirely in black, even to the watch cap covering his bright hair. She knew him by his walk, by the way he stood, the way he tilted his head.
What was he doing? Whatever it was, he was focused and purposeful. Whatever it was, it was not good.
Annie ducked back behind the statue and thought for an instant. Paolina was looking at her, her eyes wide and frightened. “Is it the watchman?”
Annie shook her head. She had to find out what Sam was doing. But she had a sick suspicion in the pit of her stomach.
If those were explosives he was attaching to the columns, they were hiding inside what was about to become their tomb.
Sam walked back through the nave, checking his work. He looked up at the huge vault of the ceiling and the stained glass windows all around. The building was magnificent. One of the most beautiful, surely, that his firm had ever designed. Its destruction would be a tragedy that the city would talk about for months.
The explosives were set to detonate by a signal from the electronic device that Sam held in his hand. Now came the crucial part of the plan. The part for which he needed crazy Jack Fletcher.
It must, of course, be Fletcher who was blamed for the explosion. And since the detonation would have to be triggered from outside, Fletcher was the only other person besides himself who would leave the building alive.
Once outside, though, the mad bomber, Jehovah’s Pitchfork, would meet with bad luck. A large piece of schrapnel from the blast would strike him down. He would die with the detonator in his hand.
Giuseppe’s murder would remain unsolved. Vico, dead in the ruins, could remain a suspect. With finesse, Sam would be able to suggest that Fletcher’s antigay bigotry was the motive for him to kill Giuseppe. Yes, with any luck, it would all be blamed on Fletcher.
He went up the sanctuary steps and around behind the altar to the steps that led down to the crypt. Time to get Fletcher out of the basement.
As soon as she saw Sam duck out of sight behind the high altar, Annie jumped out from behind the statue of St. Joan. “Get Vico and Matt. Warn them. They’ve got to get out of here instantly. Sam is going to blow up the building.”
“What are you going to do?” Paolina demanded.
“I’m going to try to pull those explosives off the columns,” she said.
“No! Are you out of your mind? Please, Ms. Jefferson, no!”
“Get them out of there, Paolina. Now!” she said over her shoulder as she ran to the first column.
These things were supposed to be handled gently, Annie knew. And when it came to explosives, that was just about all she knew. That and the fact that they were detonated from a distance, electronically.
If Sam was right now leaving the cathedral—which he would have to do before he pushed the button—she had time only to rip the damn things off a few of the columns and hope that the explosion, when it came, would not take down the entire building.
As she tore the tape off the stone and disengaged the first few sticks of dynamite—or whatever it was—it occurred to her that she was probably going to die. No, not probably, she thought. Definitely.
“They’re upstairs,” Sam said to Fletcher. “Annie and that other girl. I thought you’d like to know.”
“They can’t be upstairs! I’ve got all the ways out of the crawl space blocked!”
“Well,” Sam shrugged, “you must’ve missed something.”
“Shit!” Fletcher cried. “There is a way!”
Chapter Forty-five
“Are you crazy?” Matt had seen madness before—and matchless guts and courage—but he didn’t think he’d ever witnessed anything to match the sight of Annie Jefferson tearing live explosives off the huge stone columns of a doomed cathedral.
“Get out, get out!”
“Vico’s getting Paolina out, Annie. Come with me! Quickly—before Sam blows the thing.”
“He’s not going to destroy my cathedral, dammit! Not after all our hard work!” She pointed up at the magnificent stained glass windows, shrouded now in the dark. “He played me for a fool, Matt. It never occurred to me that I couldn’t trust the architect. Or that he would sabotage his own building—and his most beautiful building at that. Well, he may have killed Giuseppe, but he’s not going destroy his art!”
“Annie, I know how you feel, but it’s too late.” How long till it blows? Shit! How long?
He grabbed her arms and lifted her bodily from the column—the third of six that Sam had wired. “I’m taking you out of here now. Hell, it’ll be a miracle if we can even get out.”
She sobbed as he pulled her away. The nearest exit was the south transept door, and he ran toward it, dragging her while she screamed at him to let her go. Vico and Paolina were already there, and Vico was struggling with the door.
“Dammit, Annie, it’s just a building for chrissake! I’ve lost everything else—I’m not going to lose you too!”