Chapter Seven
Courage of the Young
The woman he was thinking of was interrogating Pirelli’s bodyguards and cronies. It had taken all her powers of persuasion to be alone with Tony Chavez in Interrogation One. Dave Madigan, one of the bright young detectives, red-haired and freckled-faced from a classic Irish police family had insisted that he be in the room with her and Chavez.
"No! You are not," she said through clenched teeth.
"Yes, I am," he emphatically replied.
"Look, Dave, I know what I’m doing. I work best alone with no distractions."
"He’s dangerous."
"I appreciate your desire to protect me, but you’re new on the job and don’t know me. I am very capable of taking care of myself. After all, I learned from the best, Isaac Stubbs."
"Yeah, I heard of him, but I’m still going in."
"You leave me no choice. I’m going to Captain Deering." In high dudgeon, she stormed into Deering’s office. After explaining the problem, she said, "Paul, you know I get results being by myself. I work best alone. I can’t have someone standing over my shoulder, second guessing me. They’ll just get in my way."
"I know. You’ve done some marvelous work." Looking up at Madigan, he said, "Sorry, Dave, but I go along with her. She talks to him alone."
"Ok, but I’m right outside the door," he grudgingly agreed.
God, would this kid quit thinking of her as a weak little woman. She was entirely capable of taking care of herself. Reluctantly, she agreed but said, "There’s to be no listening in. I want to be able to give my word that there’s no eavesdropping."
"You heard her, Dave."
Unwillingly, he gave in, "All right."
Now, back in Room One, Catherine had convinced Tony of her sincerity. "Look, Tony, just tell me what you heard or saw. I don’t think you had anything to do with it. Don’t you want to get the killer?"
"Yeah, but in my own way." Tony was short, broad shouldered and heavy set, about thirty with a shock of black hair, brown eyes, and several scars on his face. He perched in his chair like a hawk, ready to explode into flight.
"If you help me, I’ll help you," she said soothingly. "We can help each other."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Good. What did you see?" She leaned intently across the table. "Tell me."
"I saw nuthin'! I heard nuthin'!" Pounding the table in frustration, he fumed, "How he got in or out is beyond me."
"Not even the slightest sound?" she prodded.
"There was sort of a scraping noise in the basement, but when Jerry went to check, there was nuthin' or nobody."
"That’s all you heard?"
"Well . . . there was a kind of low growl about that time, but I figured it was outside and didn’t check on it. Could that have been somethin’ important?" he eagerly asked.
"No. Probably just a dog." She wanted him to forget this piece of evidence. "Thanks a lot, Tony. If you hear anything, let me know and I’ll do the same."
"Sure, Miss Chandler." He left shaking back his expensively clad shoulders already on the prowl.
She leaned back in her chair satisfied that it was Vincent but with a difference: gentler, easier. Her Vincent was beginning to come back.
*
"Well," he stood hands on his hips, waiting for her answer.
"Nothing, Joe, they heard nothing, saw nothing, they know nothing."
"Somehow I didn’t expect anything different."
"I wish I had more to give you, but I still think it’s connected."
He smiled and waved as he backed into his office. Shrugging, she went to her desk and, with a look of dismay, waded into the pile of work on her desk.
*
He was a long way from home, but Geoffrey was proud that he was considered old enough to be searching for Paracelsus. As all tunnel residents, he as swathed in several layers of castoff, well-patched but clean clothing. He had a cherubic, freckled face with hazel eyes and tousled light brown hair. About ten years old, he had lived Below for the last four years. To him it was paradise on earth, and Vincent was the father he never knew. That’s why he was so proud to be included in the search and had gone off on his own this time; although, if Father knew that he had no adult with him, he would be in for a severe tongue-lashing.
He heard a man’s evil laugh in the tunnel to the right of him. Scared, he quickly backed into the darkness and dropped behind an outcropping of rock. Three nasty looking men came out of the tunnel and ambled away from him. He followed the sound of their words and laughter at a discreet distance, marking the walls, hoping not to get lost. Suddenly, Vincent loomed out of the darkness. Before the startled boy could bolt for safety, the man had him by the collar.
"Vincent," he gasped, not really frightened.
"You know me?" the man asked with a puzzled air.
Geoffrey decided to bluff it out, reminded of Vincent’s amnesia. "Sure, known you all my life. What are you going to do?" He stood his ground, calmly, waiting to see what would happen.
"Why are you here?" Confusion shone in the man’s eyes.
Knowing the truth would be best, the young boy answered, "I was looking for you."
"For me? Why?"
"To find out if you’re alive. Father and all of us have been worried about you."
"Father?" the puzzled man whispered. Somehow he knew this boy was not referring to Paracelsus.
"What is your name, boy?"
"Geoffrey." The name sounded vaguely familiar, bringing other unfamiliar names with it. "It’s not safe here, child." Releasing him, Vincent said, "Run, Geoffrey, run from this place. Never return."
With a glad, "Thanks, Vincent," he took off as if the devil was chasing him.
A bemused grimace on his face, Vincent watched the boy run down the corridor. "Father," he mused. He almost saw a face and it wasn’t Paracelsus. Thoughtfully, he returned to his solitary wandering.
*
"Father, Father," Geoffrey shouted as he pelted into the library. "I’ve seen him." Breathlessly, he sat down on the bottom step of the small metal stairs; he had run all the way.
"Slow down, Geoffrey. Saw who? Paracelsus?"
Wordlessly, he shook his head.
"Who then? Vincent?" Father asked hopefully.
"Yeah," the boy finally was able to say.
"My god. Where?"
"Long way. Different tunnels," Geoffrey gasped.
"Get your breath back, child, then start at the beginning and tell me everything." He poured a cup of cold tea for the child and handed it to him, watching him gulp it down. Pulling his shawl tightly around him, he waited impatiently for Geoffrey to compose himself. Hope was beginning to grow in his heart. If Vincent had let Geoffrey go . . . The hope that he was coming back to himself and would soon be home was starting to take shape, but then there would be a host of new problems. How would he reconcile himself to what he had done, even though he was not himself when it happened? Father was afraid of what this might do to him, and he knew Catherine shared the same fears.
"Father," Geoffrey broke into his ruminations, "I’m ready now."
"Oh yes, now, Geoffrey, tell me everything"
"I was out exploring, looking for the bad man."
"By yourself?" Father asked, aghast that the child was alone when he met Vincent. "We’ll have a talk about following the rules later, Geoffrey."
Ducking his head, Geoffrey couldn’t keep from smiling. No matter what Father said or how he punished him, he was the one who had found Vincent. Nothing could take away the pride he felt in that. "Yes sir," he said, "But everyone else was busy. I went farther than I meant to, but I was smart enough to mark the walls like you taught us."
"Very wise of you, child. Go on."
"Then I heard voices so I hid and then I followed them."
"That was very dangerous, Geoffrey, you should have come back immediately."
"I know, but I wanted to see where they were going. Anyway, I followed them, and when I turned this corner, Vincent was there. I think he was as surprised as I was. I tried to run but he grabbed me. He didn’t know me, Father, and he asked me a lot of questions and then he let me go."
"Did you notice anything strange about him?"
"Not really. His eyes looked a little funny, and he was dressed differently. Sort of like . . . You know those guard uniforms you see in fairy tales? Sort of like that."
Father nodded his understanding. "Do you think you can find your way there again?"
Nodding vigorously, Geoffrey said, "Sure."
"Run along now and find Matthias and Jonah for me. I want you to show them where these tunnels are."
"Ok," and the justly proud young boy rushed out of the chamber on his way to find Matthias and Jonah and then to tell his friends of his adventures.
Steepling his fingers, Father leaned back in his chair, breathing a sigh of relief mixed with sadness. Now they knew where John was and with that knowledge came the fear for Vincent’s well-being.
*
Walking between the two men, Geoffrey felt safe from everyone but Vincent. Matthias was the taller man, topping Vincent by two inches, broad, muscular, with thighs like tree trunks. Sandy-haired, he had blue-green eyes and a Viking style mustache that hid a mouth that smiled often. With a laugh that boomed through the tunnels, he was a favorite of the tunnel community. A child of the streets, he had never had much of a home life and family meant everything to him, especially his wife and five-year-old daughter.
Jonah, on the other hand, was shorter, leaner, agile and quick with shoulder length black hair that he kept tied in a pony-tail, eyes as black as coal, a narrow face, aquiline nose, a broad full lipped mouth, clean shaven, handsome, and single. He had adopted Matthias’ family as his own. Born in the tunnels, he could imagine no better life.
Dressed as all the other tunnel residents, each carried a small pack and a length of pipe. They were the best of friends and were inseparable.
The cheerful banter slowly ceased as they approached the spot where Geoffrey had met Vincent. They proceeded quietly and cautiously.
"This is as far as I got," Geoffrey said softly. "This is where I met Vincent."
The mark that Geoffrey had made was all but obliterated. "I wonder who erased my mark?"
"Vincent, maybe?" Matthias replied quietly. Jonah shrugged his shoulders.
"This looks like the spot right here," Jonah said in hushed tones, pointing to a spot on the map he had just unrolled.
"Yeah, I think it is," Matthias agreed. "We better get back before some of Paracelsus’ goons find us and make mincemeat out of us. Wonder what Father will do? Attack?"
"Are you kidding?" Jonah replied, "He’s the most peace-loving person I’ve ever known. He won’t attack. He’ll let us be attacked before he does anything about it. You ought to know, Matt, you took the oath when you entered our world."
"Yeah, I know. The only person that keeps our world safe is Vincent and he’s gone."
As they were leaving, Geoffrey looked back and noticed Vincent step out of the shadows. He waved slightly. Vincent raised a hesitant hand.
Vincent watched them leave, thinking, These men are not vicious or evil. Nor is the boy. He has lied to me again.