Dark Places: Long Shadows

Previously:

The light dipped downwards, allowing Trixie to see a matching flash of temper cross Dan’s face and disappear into the blackness as he switched off his flashlight. While still fumbling for the switch of hers, Trixie heard the metal door slam with another resounding clang. She managed to get her light on, but Dan was nowhere to be seen. Returning to the door, she rattled the handle and found to her horror that he was right: the door was locked.

“Dan!” she called, as loudly as she dared. “Please, open the door.”

A hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to jump and let out a shriek. Her flashlight dropped from her hand and rolled away. Off-balance, she was easily spun around until her back connected with the door with a dull thud. A grim voice in her ear said, “I warned you.”

After a moment of terror, recognition of the familiar voice kicked in and she suppressed the urge to fight off her attacker. “Open the door,” she demanded, temper still flaring in spite of the thrill of fear she felt.

“I thought you wanted to look around. Now, you want me to let you back inside?” She could hear the smile in Dan’s voice and her anger rose a notch.

“No, wise guy, I want you to go back inside and quit bothering me!”

“Who says I can?”

Her heart dropped in her chest. “What?”

“Who says I can?” he repeated. Without warning, he let go of her and, caught off-balance, she stumbled and dropped to the floor. “I told you it would lock if it closed. It’s locked; try it for yourself.”

Muttering maledictions under her breath, Trixie scrambled to her feet and felt around for the door handle. She gave it a few more violent rattles, pulling and pushing with all her might, but to no avail. Dan had been telling the truth and now they were trapped.

Thinking carefully before she spoke, Trixie considered her position. It was clear that she was at Dan’s mercy. Whether he was simply trying to get back at her for defying him, or playing some other game of his own, she did not know. Finally, she decided to say, “Okay, you’ve made your point. You know this place and I don’t. And maybe I should’ve listened to you, but really, Dan, it was just too interesting to pass up.”

“Your curiosity is going to get you into trouble one day,” he muttered. “Come on. I don’t like it down here, and Mart’s going to start wondering where we are soon.”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean, we’re not trapped?”

He gave a short laugh. “You think I’d lock us in here?” Stooping, he picked up her flashlight and shone it above her head. “See that hole there? That’s how people get in. I’ll give you a boost and you can open the door for me.”

Struggling to keep from shaking with a mixture of fear and anger, Trixie nodded and allowed him to help her up. With her hand on the top of the wall and muscles straining to lift her weight, a soft noise caught her attention. A moment later, the sharp sound of metal impacting metal echoed through the air and the soft sound resolved itself into footsteps. A harsh, male voice made an angry sound and the footsteps sped up. Glancing down, she saw the alarm in Dan’s face and scrambled the rest of the way up. Half-sliding and half-falling, she dropped to the floor and wrenched open the door. Dan barrelled through and slammed it behind himself.

“Run!” he urged, pushing her ahead.

Her pulse thudded in her ears as she hurried upwards. Dan’s heavier steps followed close behind, but no sounds came to them of any other pursuer. Light from the open doorway seemed bright after their time in the dark and they spilled out into the open in a hurry to find Mart pacing back and forth and Jack waiting patiently nearby.

“What took you so long?” Mart demanded, shooting glances from one to the other. “You get lost or something?”

“There’s someone down there!” Trixie let out in a gasp.

Instantly, Jack was alert and striding toward the entrance, weapon drawn. “Are they following you?” he asked, eyes fixed on the opening.

All four listened intently. After a long pause, Trixie shook her head. “I don’t think so, but they’ve had time to get up here quietly.”

“They won’t be getting in here today,” Jack answered as another security officer arrived on the scene. “We’ll make sure of that.”

The three Bob-Whites exchanged looks, each wondering just what they should do next. “Let’s get out of here,” Dan suggested. “I’ve had enough.”

“Well, what can you tell me?” Matthew Wheeler asked, on arrival at the apartment later that afternoon. “Did you find anything new?”

Trixie’s eyes shone with excitement. “Did we ever! Just take a look at the plans.”

The group gathered around as Trixie and Mart explained their findings, starting with the hidden staircases and the bricked-up doorway, touching on the stash of paperwork in the old safe-cavity and leaving the best discovery – the hidden underground room – for last.

“And you took pictures?” Mr. Wheeler asked, with interest. “May I see them?”

Mart displayed the photos he had taken on Honey’s laptop computer and talked through them, explaining the angles from which they were taken and matching their coverage to the rough plan Trixie had drawn. As the pictures of the stage flashed onto the screen, Trixie let out a gasp.

“What’s that?” she asked, her voice sounding breathy in her surprise. “It looks like a face!”

Her brother shook his head. “It’s just reflections from the chandelier,” he decided. “It must have caught some of the light from the flash. It does look creepy, though,” he admitted. With a little prompting from Mart and Trixie, Dan retold the ghost story that he had related earlier.

“I’d like a copy of that photograph,” Matt commented, rubbing his hands together. “It’s just the thing I need to add to the atmosphere. You’ve done a great job, everyone, and I’m really pleased with the results. They’re better than I’d hoped for, actually. Rumour had it that there had been a speakeasy at the Stanfield Hotel, and that the sealed-up room was still there, somewhere, but I didn’t believe it could be true. Now, what about the entrance you spoke about?”

“I think we need to go back and investigate further,” Trixie asserted, quickly. “The stairs go down to a metal door, which opens into an old subway station. The door can open from the hotel side, but from the other side you need to climb through a hole up above. The line didn’t look like it was in use, but there are tunnels that open up in a few directions, so it probably connects to the outside somewhere and I think it would be best to find out for sure.”

“Didn’t you learn anything down there?” Dan spoke for the first time since Mr. Wheeler had arrived. “You need to stay out of there, Trixie.”

“After I’d gotten over the shock,” she replied saucily, “I learned that you messed with my head to get your own way. It wasn’t really as bad down there as you made out.”

Mr. Wheeler frowned. “Do I even want to know?” he wondered aloud.

Dan continued, as if the older man had not spoken. “And what about the person we heard down there? Who do you think that might have been, Trixie? The underworld welcoming committee?”

“I kind of forgot about that part,” she admitted. “Okay, so I concede that it might be a little dangerous, but still, we need to know where it goes and whether there are any other breaches along that wall. There could be other entrances that we didn’t find.”

“That doesn’t mean that you should be the one to look,” Dan answered. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of there.”

“Well, I’d like to see your discoveries,” Mr. Wheeler interrupted, before the argument could escalate further. “How about if we go down there now and take a look?”

Night was falling as the group entered the old hotel. What, by day, had only seemed old and dingy now took on another, more sinister character. The dark windows above announced to the world at large that this building was uninhabited. Harsh security lighting in the hallway made the shadows all the blacker.

Trixie felt a thrill as her brother opened the first secret passageway. Two security guards were in attendance this time and one of them accompanied the group inside the secret passage. At the head of the line, Trixie saw the guard draw a weapon from its holster before continuing and her heart skipped a beat. Matthew Wheeler entered second, followed by the three who had searched earlier. Honey and Di had elected to remain in the safety of the apartment.

“So, how do I open this?” the man asked, on reaching the first hidden door.

Trixie, from her place third in line, wriggled around to find a gap and shone her light to illuminate the spot. In moments, he had found the mechanism and the door squeaked open. Once more, the noise level increased. The four slowly descended, pausing to examine the blocked doorway.

“Ah, this is very promising,” their host commented, while examining the wall opposite. “I did hear that there used to be a legitimate underground passageway somewhere near the hotel entrance – and I think this might have been it. It’s not such an amateurish job as the one opposite, but I’m fairly sure this was once a doorway, too.”

“But where would it have come out?” Trixie wondered aloud. “At the top, I mean.”

“On the sidewalk outside the hotel, I’d guess. We can figure out the exact spot from the plans later,” Mr. Wheeler suggested. “For now, let’s take a look at what’s at the other end.”

As they continued downwards, a series of loud, echoing thumps sounded from somewhere below. At Mr. Wheeler’s signal, they switched off their flashlights one by one until they were in darkness. A dim light showed the outline of the hole above the door, strengthening even as they watched, and shuffling footsteps could be heard over the background noise of the distant trains.

For several minutes, they kept a silent vigil. Muffled voices spoke briefly. The light grew dimmer once more, but did not fade completely. Other sounds broke through every so often – grunts of effort and impacts of feet against hard surfaces – then the footsteps returned and the light increased, before fading into complete darkness. Still, the group waited, tense and alert.

After what seemed a very long time, Matthew turned on his flashlight and slowly continued down the stairs. They soon arrived at the metal door, its lock showing clear signs of tampering. Here, they halted and Dan shone his light up to the illicit entrance.

“I don’t think I’ll open the door,” Matthew announced. “They might still be close by. I’m just going to take a look before we go.”

Clipping his flashlight onto his belt, he scaled the wall with an agility which belied his age. He hung there for several minutes, playing the light around the revealed area beyond the wall, before dropping gracefully to the floor once more.

“I think that’s all I need to know,” he mentioned, ushering the group up the stairs ahead of him. “I’ll put someone onto arranging repairs.”

“But what about other potential entrances?” Trixie asked, disappointed to be leaving so soon and without another glimpse of the old subway tunnel. “Shouldn’t you check for those, too?”

They reached the door at the top of the stairs and Matthew carefully closed it, looking for some way it might be secured. “I guess they could put a bolt on it, or something,” he muttered, almost to himself. A moment later, he seemed to remember Trixie’s question. “There will be procedures to follow before a further search can be made. Technically, you were trespassing when you went through the door this afternoon.”

When they emerged into the regular hallway, Trixie’s face was tinted red and she avoided the gaze of her host.

“Before going any further I’ll need to get special permission – and if you want to be included I expect you’ll have to undergo some sort of training.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “I suppose that might be a valuable thing for your future career, if you can afford the time now.”

Her blush fading, Trixie smiled, secure in the knowledge that her hard work earlier had allowed a light course load in her final semester. “You’d let me continue?” she asked eagerly, ignoring the scowl that Dan was sending her way.

“If I can,” Mr. Wheeler assured her. “The rail authorities are pretty particular about who they allow into sections of their tunnels that are not open to the public. Now, can we see the speakeasy?”

A flash of guilt crossed Trixie’s face. “I hope you don’t mind what we did to get in,” she murmured, leading the way to the apartment in question. “The entrance was kind of covered over and we – well – uncovered it.”

To her gratitude, Matthew was understanding about the matter of the laminate they had removed. “It had to come down anyway,” he said with a smile. Without delay, he entered the passageway and headed downstairs.

“It does look as if this was a more public passageway,” he mused as they descended. “Narrow, though. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to get past fire regulations to allow anyone down here. Might have to see about another way in and out.”

They arrived in the hidden room and a smile spread across his face. “This is incredible. Original light fittings and bar… marks on the walls where chairs must have hit them… wear patterns on the floor might tell us where the furniture was… the stage, where they probably had dancing girls… and I’ll bet some of that ceiling discolouration is from cigarette and cigar smoke – just imagine what it must have been like!” He gave a slow nod. “I think we might be onto something here.”

“The only thing that worries me about it,” Trixie added, though tentatively, “is why they abandoned it – I mean, I can understand why they didn’t need a speakeasy when Prohibition ended, but why didn’t they knock a door through to the rest of the basement and use it for something else?”

“Woo-ooo,” Mart teased, slowly waving his hands in front of him. “The ghost scared them off.”

“I think there’s a more plausible answer than that,” Mr. Wheeler replied with a shake of his head and a smile. “It seems pretty clear that the owner in those days was a scoundrel at best and, more likely, an underworld figure. When his goldmine of illegal liquor sales ran out, he used this space for some other illegal purpose – probably another kind of club on the wrong side of the law. He died suddenly in 1946 and the hotel was sold and eventually converted to apartments. I doubt whether the new owner even knew this space was here, and once the smoking lounge, or whatever it was, was turned into an apartment with a kitchen installed over the top of the hidden door, its fate was sealed – which suits my purpose very well.” He glanced around the group to see whether he had their attention. “When this is my hotel, I want as many hints of its shady history on display as possible!”

“You mean, as an attraction?” Trixie asked, intrigued. “That’s a great idea! I’d love to stay somewhere like that.”

“You can be one of my first guests,” he promised, with a laugh, “on condition that you help with the gathering of evidence.”

“It’s a deal,” she cried. “I’d love to help some more.”

“You’d better set up an appointment with my secretary,” he decided, pulling out a business card. “Say… Wednesday or Thursday? That’ll give me time to pull together all of the paperwork.” His eyes twinkled in the dim light. “You’re not going to regret this, are you?”

Trixie shook her head and grinned. “Even if I only end up cooped up in a library somewhere, I’m willing to put in the work.”

“Fine,” he replied, giving the place one last glance around. “I’ve seen enough here. Let’s go and take a look at the hidey-hole you told me about, then we’ll get something to eat.”

The first thing that Matthew Wheeler examined when they had opened the panel was the figurine on the top shelf. He ran a finger along her length, leaving a white streak. “She can go on display somewhere, I think,” he murmured, nodding. “I’ll come back for the rest another time. I doubt that there’s anything of value there, now, but you never know.” He shut the door and turned away from the stash. “Great work, everyone. This is shaping up exceedingly well from my point of view.”

In the apartment that night after their host had returned home, spirits were high and it was the early hours of the morning before things began to settle down. Around two o’clock, the group began to disperse and Trixie took the opportunity to do something that had been on her mind all day. While Di was drowsing on the sofa and Honey helped Mart fix a midnight snack, Trixie cornered Dan.

“What is it that you know?” she demanded, without preamble.

His stony expression gave nothing away, save that she was right in thinking he was hiding something. He gave a non-committal shrug and tried to push past her, but she caught him by the shirt.

“You know something,” she repeated. “Something about that place – the tunnels, the subway access. Something dangerous. I need to know what it is.”

He shook his head in a short, sharp gesture. “I don’t know anything. I just don’t like it down there.”

“You don’t like it down there? You want me to stay out of a place because you don’t like it? Next, you’ll be telling me to stay away from my favourite deli because you don’t like their salad dressing!”

To her surprise, he laughed. “I would not. I don’t take dressing.”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to change the subject.”

He shrugged. “You’re the one who brought up salad dressing.”

“I still want to know what you know.” Her foot tapped against the floor, sinking into the deep pile of the carpet without making a sound.

“Why do you keep picking and picking at me?” he demanded, suddenly losing his temper.

A cheeky smile lit her face. “It’s what I’m good at.”

“Trixie,” he warned, turning away. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“And I need you to talk,” she answered, catching his arm. “Please, Dan. If you know something specific about that place that would help me stay out of danger, I need to know what it is.”

With a shake of his head, he sank into a nearby chair. “I don’t think anything I know could possibly help you. It’s all changed too much.”

“If you tell me what it was like back then, it might give me some clues, though,” she reasoned. “So, you went down there fairly often when you lived in that building?”

His eyes rolled up towards the ceiling. “Do you ever give up?” At the firm shake of her head he continued, “Yes, Miss Persistent, I did spend a bit of time down there. We explored all of the tunnels opening out of there – almost got run over by trains a few times – looked for other ways out, but didn’t find a whole lot. Soon as we found a place to break through, the railway company came and fixed it up. It wasn’t worth our trouble most of the time. It’s kind of a back-water, so to speak; a dead end. The tunnels connect onto lines that are still in use and the pedestrian areas are all sealed off. That’s all there was to it.”

Trixie eyed him for a long moment, then nodded and let him go. She was not certain that he had told all, but she was sure that he would tell no more that night.

Later that week, Trixie kept her appointment with Mr. Wheeler and came away from it with a bundle of paperwork and her mind a-spin with possibilities. In a few days’ time, she would be undertaking a short training course on safety in the subway system. When that was completed, she would be allowed to accompany the workers contracted to fill the hole and make some minor repairs to the foundations. In the meantime, the secret entrance was secured with a few sturdy bolts and padlocks. She would then begin to search for any other breaches. Her name – and the number of a company cell phone with which she had been provided – would also appear in a number of advertisements asking for memorabilia and information on the former hotel.

She raced home, hoping to catch Honey and share the good news. She was in luck, seeing her friend as she approached her room and running to greet her.

“Honey!” she cried in excitement. “I’ve just been to see your Dad and you’ll never guess all of the things he said to me!”

Her friend smiled. “Just so long as I don’t have to go inside any dark, creepy places, he can say whatever he likes!” Entering Trixie’s room, the two settled on the bed. “So, I take it you get to do some more exploration?”

Trixie selected a paper from her bundle and thrust it in Honey’s face. “I’m officially working for your Dad. He’s sending me on a training course and then I get to go underground actually into an unused part of the subway, where no one is allowed. Isn’t that exciting?”

Despite her growing distaste for the dark, Honey smiled. “For you, yes. For me, wild horses couldn’t drag me down there. What are you expecting to find down there anyway?”

Her friend gave a shrug. “Hopefully some kind of clue to how it all fits together. Maybe nothing to do with the case, but even if I don’t find out anything it’ll be so exciting just to be down there, in all of those hidden passageways and on old platforms and haven’t you ever wondered what’s down there, out of sight?”

“Not really,” Honey answered with a shake of her head. “I’m quite content with not knowing… but I guess you can tell me about it when you find out.”

Trixie let out a giggle. “Just try stopping me!”

By the time the opportunity came to enter the tunnel, Trixie’s excitement was threatening to overwhelm her. Due to the amount of equipment needed, they would not be able to use the secret passages and would be entering the abandoned station through the subway system. As Trixie checked over her own supplies, the rest of the small group readied to go underground, loading stair-climbing trolleys and going through check-lists.

Their journey started on the mezzanine level of the nearest subway station to the old hotel, near a set of stairs that led down to a platform. Passing through a nondescript door, Trixie let out an involuntary gasp. The scene she beheld was dark and dingy from years of neglect, but a near-perfect mirror image of the one she had just left. The wall through which the doorway opened had looked so much a part of the subway station that she would never have suspected what it concealed and, if pressed, she would have guessed that it opened into a closet.

The door securely locked behind them, they set off along the walkway, passing mysterious, unmarked doors and stairs that descended to another dark platform. The line was still in use, as they saw when a train rushed by. At the far end of the walkway, a staircase leading upwards ended abruptly in a solid wall, while another led downwards. Straight ahead, a plain metal door was set into the wall and Trixie recognised it as the one to the hotel by its compromising hole.

Some of the workers stopped here and began preparing to repair the hole, while others continued downwards. Trixie drew an excited breath as the man in the lead started his trolley down the gloomy stairs with an echoing thump-thump-thump. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, knowing that it was safer not to walk in front of a load of heavy equipment while it was transported down the stairs, but impatient to see what lay below.

“Your first time down here?” a young worker asked her, his smile just visible in the dimness. “Mine, too.” Holding out his hand, he introduced himself: “Bryce Taylor; I’m a structural engineer.”

Trixie took the outstretched hand and inwardly admired the firm grip. After telling him her name she added, “I’m doing some investigation into the secret passages and things.”

“That’s you?” Bryce asked, clearly surprised. “I heard there was someone joining us to do that today, but I guess I expected someone older.” He gestured to another man, a surveyor by the name of Aaron Tate, to join them and made the introductions.

The last of the trolleys cleared the top step before the conversation could progress any further and they headed downwards. At the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves on another disused platform, with a line that looked long abandoned. A narrower section of the platform stretched away behind them. A short distance ahead, the wall to the right came to an end so that the space widened into a large waiting area.

Rounding the corner in the wall, Trixie recognised the metal staircase and the strange little niche in which she had hidden. She stopped and stared around herself, while the workers she accompanied set up powerful lighting. A few minutes later, the first light was turned on, making everyone blink with the sudden change. All at once, details which had been obscured by darkness became clear, while the ever-present shadows were made deeper.

The old station had no particular architectural merit of its own. Unlike some others, it did not have any elegant archways, or decorative brickwork. Some portions of its original tiling remained, including a border that ran across two-thirds of the length of the wall, but much of it had been obliterated by later alterations. Graffiti marred many of the more accessible surfaces and the whole area was littered with cast-offs of the railway system.

Careful to keep out of everyone’s way, Trixie walked slowly around the perimeter of the area, getting her bearings and seeing what there was to see. Apart from the niche in which she had hidden, the wall on the side of the hotel was fairly featureless at floor level. It bore the scars of several alterations and repairs, but little else. Above, it held various pipes and wires, as well as a metal gantry accessed from the metal stairs. Walking to the very end of the platform, Trixie peered into another niche, located close to the end wall, which held a collection of equipment of some sort. Another repair had apparently been made here, for the tiles had been removed to expose brickwork beneath. One of the bricks bore the scar of a heavy impact.

Turning to leave, Trixie’s eye caught a strange dirty mark above one of the meters set into the niche. She turned to examine it more closely, noting as she did that the scarred brick below had a similar darkness to it. Her gaze travelled upwards to a horizontal pipe which ran across the wall above the niche. A section of the pipe right above the other marks was free of dust, but stained black, and the saddles which secured it to the wall were sagging. Only a couple of feet above the pipe, the metal gantry ran across the wall. Just above it and visible only when she stepped back towards the edge of the platform, Trixie could make out the edges of an irregular place in the brickwork.

In a flash, Trixie remembered the night they had waited and watched the light through the hole, knowing that the people she had heard had come in this direction. Excitement building, she approached the man Mr. Wheeler had put in charge of the project.

“Mr. Jackson? Is there any way to get up there? There’s something I’d like to check out.”

Pulling out a jangling set of keys, he answered, “Sure thing. I’ll just open up for you.”

Walking swiftly to another corner of the site, he selected a key and unlocked a substantial metal door and let Trixie into a steep staircase that was fully enclosed with metal grilles. Her footsteps rang as she ascended, the sound echoing through the tunnels. She soon reached the top and followed the walkway along to the place she had seen from below. Once in position, the irregular spot was easy to find. She kicked it lightly and, to her puzzlement, heard the bricks grate together.

Crouching down, she examined the area closely and was intrigued to find that there was no mortar between the bricks. With trembling fingers, she eased the topmost brick out and peeked through the resultant hole. Her flashlight caught some kind of brown package, carefully wrapped, and the edges of several other things. Hastily pulling out two more bricks, she could see what appeared to be a small room, littered with odds and ends. Ordinary kitchen equipment was jumbled together with large glass bottles of an industrial appearance and a variety of other junk.

She was about to call out to report her findings when something inside told her to stop. Instead, she made her way back down as quietly as she could manage and walked over to the supervisor, saying softly, “I think you’d better take a look at this, Mr. Jackson. There’s a hole and I think it leads into the hotel basement, but somebody’s been using it for something and it looks kind of suspicious.”

Nodding to the surveyor that Trixie had met earlier, he led the way back up to Trixie’s find. After a long moment’s reflection, he rose and stepped back to give the surveyor a better view, asking his opinion on whether the space was a part of the hotel basement.

“I’d guess it’s a little too low,” Aaron Tate replied, rubbing his chin. “From what we’ve measured to date, the basement floor should be about chest height from where we’re standing.” He also leaned down and shone a light through the hole. “That’s not a room, as such; it only has about three feet of clearance. It looks like there’s a trapdoor opening upwards, and I would guess that the ceiling in there is about the right elevation for the basement floor to be right above it. We can check that later, of course.”

Next, the project manager had a short conference with another man, at the end of which they decided to call the police. Trixie was obliged to stay around and wait for them, even when she had run out of things to do. Never one to be idle, she went about befriending several of the other workers and lent a hand where needed.

When the pair of plain clothes police officers finally arrived, their grim expressions told Trixie most of what she wanted to know. Whatever was inside, she would not be getting to see it. Her statement made, Trixie headed back to the surface.