by Eva Pohler
No one deserved this fate.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Stairwell to Nowhere
The next day, while the rest of the nation was focused on the election, Ellen and Tanya were visiting Sue in the hospital. Lexi was at her mother’s side, waiting on her hand and foot. Sue’s foot, which had been shattered by the bullet, was in a cast, and Sue was recovering from the loss of blood with an IV and antibiotics to prevent infection. The doctor hoped to release her later that day.
The first thing Ellen had done the night before, after leaving Sue in the hospital and returning to the hotel with Tanya, had been to call Bob Brooks and share the news about the bodies. He’d been nonplussed about the events and the devastation but ecstatic about the discovery, as she’d expected. He’d said he would begin assembling a team of anthropologists to help him recover the bodies, relocate them to a lab, and begin the arduous process of identifying remains and looking for their causes of death. He’d said the work would take months, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
While they were at the hospital, Officer Ryan and another officer came to see them in Sue’s room to question them about the events of the night before.
Sue introduced the officers to her daughter, Lexi.
“Nice to meet you,” the younger officer said.
Officer Ryan was all business. “Tell me what happened that night, from the moment you entered the building.”
Sue told most of the story. Ellen told about being trapped in the dumbwaiters and being saved by a homeless Native American woman.
“Did you get an ID on any of your attackers?” Officer Ryan asked after he’d listened to their story.
“It was too dark,” Sue said.
Ellen and Tanya agreed.
“Do you think you could recognize their voices if we brought them in for a lineup and had them speak?” the other officer asked.
Ellen shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“There wasn’t really anything distinctive about any of their voices,” Tanya said. “They sounded like everybody else from this part of the country.”
The officers nodded. The younger one took notes.
“Were there any survivors?” Sue asked.
“We’re not sure,” Officer Ryan admitted. “The death count was eighteen, but we have no idea how many were gathered there before the fire broke out. We didn’t come upon any survivors, anyway. Unless we count the three of you.”
“Eighteen,” Ellen repeated beneath her breath, unable to believe, though she’d seen more than that gathered outside the building before the fire. “That’s horrible.”
“As part of routine procedure, we have to ask this,” Officer Ryan continued. “Did you have anything to do with the fire? Had you added any kind of flame propellant—such as propane, gasoline, or lighter fluid—to the area around the building?”
“Gosh, no,” Tanya said.
“Absolutely not,” Ellen said.
“Why would we?” Sue asked. “We’d just bought the place, and it isn’t even insured yet.”
“Just answer the question, please,” the other officer said to Sue.
“No. We had nothing to do with the fire,” Sue said.
“You should speak with Bob Brooks, the anthropologist from OU,” Tanya suggested. “He can tell you that there’s a gas seep on the property. That’s what probably caused the explosion and rapid spread of fire.”
“We’ll look into that,” the other officer said.
“Hey, Charlie,” Officer Ryan said. “Would you mind grabbing us each a coffee for the ride home? I just want to ask a few more questions of these ladies, and then I’ll meet you down in the lobby.”
The younger officer nodded and left the room.
Ellen wondered what was going on. Should they feel threatened? She noticed Sue had pushed the “call nurse” button.
Once they were alone with him, Officer Ryan said, “You asked me something about talking to the papers last night.”
Ellen frowned. She noticed Tanya biting her lip.
“There was an article about us in the paper the day after you carded us on our property,” Sue explained.
“I didn’t talk to the papers, but I did talk to someone else on the force about it—not this young man with me today. Someone else. He pushed me for more information and seemed pretty riled up about it.”
“He wasn’t killed in the fire, was he?” Ellen asked.
“No. He was on duty last night. But a mutual friend on the force was.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Tanya asked.
Officer Ryan stared each of them down, his face serious. “I’m concerned for your safety. I think you’re better off leaving this town, for your own good.”
“Are you threatening us?” Sue asked. She reached for Lexi’s hand.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “Just warning you. You’ve upset a lot of people in this town by looking for those graves. I’d put the building back up for sale and leave, if I were you.”
“Well, you aren’t us,” Sue said.
Ellen cleared her throat. “Thanks for your concern, Officer. But we aren’t backing down.”
He nodded. “I understand. Then let me advise you ladies to take extra precautions as you move forward. Don’t go to the building alone at night. Hell, you might even have others with you there during the day. This is serious. I don’t like it any more than you do. I’m not a racist. I don’t agree with the Klan. I may be against looking for a grave and doling out reparations. And maybe I’m sick of this whole business about the riot. But I’d never try to threaten or kill anyone over it. I’ll do my best to protect you, but you need to be careful. You understand?”
Ellen glanced at Tanya and Sue. They nodded.
“Maybe you could keep a low profile for a while,” he continued. “Put some time between what happened last night and breaking ground on your renovations, perhaps.”
“Thank you,” Ellen said. “We’ll think about it.”
As the officer was leaving, Eduardo Mankiller entered with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. The intense energy was immediately gone, and Ellen could finally breathe again.
A nurse came in behind him to answer Sue’s call.
“Could I get another Coke?” Sue asked her.
“Yes ma’am,” the nurse replied before leaving the room again.
“And who is this adorable person?” Eduardo asked of Lexi.
Lexi turned bright pink.
“This is my daughter. Lexi, this is Eduardo, a local psychic.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lexi said, offering Eduardo her stool.
Eduardo sat and listened as they relayed the events of the night before for a second time.
“As terrible as I’m sure it was,” he said, “I’m glad you found the bodies.”
“We don’t know for sure that they’re the riot victims,” Ellen said, “but I have a feeling they are.”
“There’s no way three hundred of them are inside those walls, though,” Tanya said. “Don’t you think?”
“The Brady Theater,” Sue said. “The rest of them are inside the walls of The Brady Theater.”
“How do you know that?” Eduardo asked.
They told him about the feeling they’d each experienced—the same suffocating feeling they felt when they’d entered the old social club.
Eduardo agreed to go with Ellen and Tanya on their way to pick up Greek food from the place across from The Tavern for Sue for lunch. Apparently, the hospital food wasn’t good enough.
Ellen drove the rental car with Tanya in the passenger seat; Eduardo followed in his Volkswagen bug. As they passed the old social club, Ellen first noticed the burnt lot and the odor of smoke still lingering in the air. But then large words spray painted in white on the brick façade made her jaw drop open:
We will avenge our dead.
Ellen’s throat went dry, and a knot formed in her stomach.
“Oh, no!” Tanya cried. “Do you think that’s meant for us, from the Klan?
”
“Why would they blame us for what happened? How could it be our fault?”
“I don’t know.” Tears sprang to Tanya’s eyes.
“Maybe we should take Officer Ryan’s advice and keep a low profile for a while,” Ellen said, as she continued past the building toward The Brady Theater.
They parked and met Eduardo at the front door. The stifling feeling overcame her again, and she could tell by Tanya’s face that she was feeling it, too.
“What do you think?” Ellen asked Eduardo.
“I see what you mean,” he said.
“Have you never felt it before?” Tanya asked.
“Carrie has done some work here, but that was before I joined her team. This is my first time to visit this place. Let’s go inside and check it out.”
He opened the door to an art deco lobby that led to a box office. A young black man with short hair and a goatee beard was seated behind the window.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Eduardo approached the box. “Would it be possible for us to tour the facility?”
The young man hesitated. “The theater is being cleaned. I don’t think…”
“Please?” Eduardo asked. “We don’t care about the cleaning. And we won’t take much of your time. In fact, I’d love to buy you a drink sometime as a thank you.”
Ellen was mesmerized by Eduardo’s skills of persuasion. His good looks, deep voice, and charming smile were impossible to deny.
The young man put a sign in the window indicating that he’d return in 15 mins. Then he came from the box into the lobby and said, “Okay. But let’s be quick.”
Ellen and Tanya followed the two men from the lobby into a magnificent medium-sized theater, with coliseum-style seating facing a stage and orchestra pit on one end of the oval. The art deco style was prominent, and the historical charm made up for the chipped paint and worn carpet.
“How many people does this place hold?” Tanya asked.
“Twenty-eight hundred,” the young attendant replied.
“Who’s performing tonight?” Eduardo asked as they walked further into the theater.
“A magician and comedian named Michael Carbonaro.”
“Oh, I love him!” Ellen said. “And he’s one of Sue’s favorites! How long will he be here?”
“Just tonight. We have a few tickets left, if you’re interested.”
Ellen turned to Tanya. “Should we go for it?”
“I’ll text Sue and see what she says. I don’t know if she’ll be feeling up to it.”
“It would definitely cheer her up,” Ellen pointed out. “And you and I could use a few laughs, too.”
After they’d walked down the aisle toward the stage, Eduardo turned to the attendant. “Isn’t there a basement?”
“Yes, but it’s not really open to patrons. It’s used for storage and for servicing the building.”
“Would you mind taking us down, just for a second?” Eduardo asked in his charming voice.
“I don’t know, man. I could get in trouble.”
“Is your manager here?” Eduardo asked.
The young man shook his head.
“We won’t tell if you won’t,” Eduardo said.
“Do you mind telling me why you want to see it?” the young man asked.
Eduardo glanced at Ellen and Tanya.
Ellen took a deep breath. “We’re picking up on some paranormal vibes in this building.”
“This place is definitely haunted,” the attendant said. “You don’t need to see the basement to know that.”
“We’re looking for bodies,” Eduardo said. “Victims of the Tulsa Race Riot.”
The young man’s eyes widened. “You think they’re here?”
“In the walls or under floorboards,” Ellen said.
“My great grand-father disappeared in the riot,” the attendant admitted. “I’ve heard rumors about mass graves, but nothing was ever found.”
“How would you feel about going to the basement with us and seeing if we can make contact with any spirits haunting the place?” Eduardo asked.
“Are you for real?”
Eduardo nodded.
“I guess that sounds pretty interesting,” the attendant said. “Okay. Follow me.”
He led them from the auditorium to a service elevator that took them to the basement.
Ellen was surprised to find it swept clean. Exposed brick and pipes were well-lit by fluorescent bulbs overhead. The ceiling was high, so it didn’t feel creepy at all. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary: two water heaters, pipes, wires, and tall pallets storing boxes and equipment. As she crossed the massive room, however, she saw a strange-looking tunnel. She stopped and looked down it as far as she could, not really sensing anything peculiar about it—just pipes along the walls. She continued past a huge boiler, as big as a house, and on the other side of it, she began to feel something pushing against her chest.
“This way,” she said to the others.
Her knees began to weaken as she walked past the boiler to the other side of the large room. She could barely breathe as the pressure in her chest became greater and greater.
“I feel sick,” Tanya said from behind her.
They came to a wooden door.
“I sense something behind that,” Eduardo said. “What’s it lead to?”
The young man shrugged. “I’ve never opened it before.”
Ellen swallowed hard as she grabbed the rusty handle and pulled the door open. It was dark inside, so she took out her phone and shined her torch app.
She stared for a moment, as sweat broke out all over her body.
Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.
It took a moment for Ellen to understand the nearly indistinct sounds. At first, she thought she was hearing the f-word, but by the third repeat, she caught the st sound.
Stuck.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered to the others.
“I thought I heard something,” Tanya said. “But I’m not sure what.”
“I couldn’t make it out, either,” Eduardo said.
“I think it said stuck,” Ellen said.
“What do these concrete steps lead to?” Tanya asked.
“I can’t tell,” Ellen replied.
Ellen led the way up the steps. A few feet away, she shined her light on the most suspicious thing she’d ever seen: the stairs led to a concrete wall the size of a doorway.
Why would anyone seal a doorway with concrete?
“They have to be there,” Ellen said. “I just know it.”
“I sense them, too,” Eduardo said. “At least a hundred angry spirits.”
“How do we find out for sure?” Tanya asked. “Or how do we prove it?”
“Who owns this building?” Ellen asked the attendant.
“Mr. Mayo. Pete Mayo.”
“I wonder how open he’d be to allowing us to drill a peep hole through this wall and insert a camera probe inside, like they do on HGTV with those wireless inspection probes.” Ellen was thinking out loud.
“To be honest,” the attendant said. “I think most people around here are tired of talking about the riot. They think anyone who brings it up is moaning and complaining about nothing. They say you don’t hear the Native Americans complaining about what happened to them, and they were here first, so why we going on and on about those two days.”
“You think Mr. Mayo feels that way?” Tanya asked him.
“No, but he cares about what the city of Tulsa thinks. He cares about how people perceive this establishment. You feelin’ me?”
Eduardo nodded. “I feel you, man. Hey, thanks for showing us this place. Those tunnels we passed are interesting, too. Are they connected to the other underground tunnels of Tulsa?”
“They just utility tunnels, for servicing the building, as far as I know.”
They returned to the lobby where Ellen bought four tickets—one for each of her friends, including Eduardo.
“Will you be working
tonight’s show?” Ellen asked the attendant.
“Yes, m’am.”
“See you tonight,” Eduardo said to him, waving goodbye.
As they exited the theater, Ellen said, “After we take Sue her Greek food, we need to head to Home Depot.” Then she added, “And after that, Charming Charlie’s. I’m going to need a bigger purse.”
Chapter Twenty-Five: Operation Old Lady on Brady
Sue was happy to have a motorized wheel chair, supplied by her insurance company, but it meant Ellen had to exchange the rental car for something bigger—a handicap accessible van.
“This is just like the model they give you at Disney World,” Sue said of her chair. “I could get used to this.”
It also meant they had to sit in handicap seating up in the balcony of The Brady Theater, a.k.a. The Old Lady on Brady, that evening. Jared—the attendant who’d sold them the tickets and who’d let them into the basement earlier—escorted them to what he said were some of the best seats in the house, even if the ramp leading up to them was a bit steep and hard to climb. Although he noticed Ellen’s exceptionally large purse, he made no comment except, “Enjoy the show,” as he returned to the lobby.
Ellen didn’t want to waste any time getting started, especially because she hoped to return before the end of the opening act so she wouldn’t miss Michael Carbonaro. She’d watched The Carbonaro Effect with Paul dozens of times—it was one of the few shows they enjoyed watching together—and she hoped she wouldn’t miss his performance tonight.
As the opening act was announced, Ellen led the way down the ramp, past the bar and the men’s room, to the service elevator. It was Tanya’s job to remain in the elevator and text them the code “9-1-1” if she saw anyone else coming down to the basement. It was Sue’s job to hang out on the basement level to distract anyone, like a security guard, who might come looking around. Ellen and Eduardo had the job of drilling the hole with a three-quarter-inch masonry bit and inserting a wireless inspection camera probe that would video record whatever it saw behind the wall.
Eduardo pulled the rusty handle of the wooden door that opened to the stairwell leading to nowhere. It was dark inside. Ellen closed the door behind them and turned on a flashlight. Once they reached the top of the concrete steps, Ellen took the new cordless drill from her purse, attached the masonry bit, and then handed it over to Eduardo.