Pascal was suddenly standing at my shoulder. “I’ll go, Doll.”
I looked over to see who’d taken duty listening at the hall door. Rooster had joined Lumpy Jim on guard and sent me a thumbs-up.
I didn’t feel thumbs-up about this plan.
Pascal was a small guy, narrow shoulders—and could carry hisown body weight in dirty dishes. If there was something to dangle from, he could do it.
But I was frozen in indecision. Leader of the band, but I couldn’t send anyone into the unknown. The dark unknown I was pretty sure I would never be able to drop into myself.
I looked to Quin.
“Yes, good,” Quin said. “Pascal, right? Thanks, buddy. I’ll give you a leg up.”
I didn’t know why I was yielding leadership to this guy, this guy I didn’t even completely trust. It was too late. Pascal had climbed up into the sink and was straddling the wall, one leg in darkness.
What if he got stuck down there? What if he fell? “Pascal, please be careful,” I said. “We need you. I really want that carne asada.”
He grinned shyly, then wedged into the opening, wiggling through a tight section and lowering himself down. He held himself with both elbows, then dropped further, clutching the wooden frame with both hands, brown knuckles gone pale. Debris rained down from the plaster, and then one hand disappeared. As my heart rose in my throat, the other let go.
“Pascal?” I called hoarsely into the cavity. “Are you okay?”
But Pascal didn’t answer. “Maybe he’s concentrating,” Quin said.
“Pascal?” I hissed, gripping the sink’s edge.
52
We waited. The silence was driving me insane. I had never been good with silence.
“I’m good,” Pascal finally answered, his voice coming from impossibly far below. “There’s a set of stairs. It was easy.”
“Stairs?” I said. “Stairs to where?”
“Do you think this is it?” Pascal called from below with a tone something like wonder. “What if I find Capone’s treasure, Doll? Can I have Ned’s job? Carne asada?”
“You’re hired, buddy,” I said, relieved. “See if you can find a way out.”
Pascal shuffled off into the dark, and I looked at Quin. “If there’s gangster gold down there, you and your friends cantakeit,” I said. “I just want them out safe. And Alex, safe. Promise me.”
“Doll, I’m not one of them,” Quin said. “I swear.”
“What are you, then?” I demanded. “You’re not hanging out at a Jefferson Park tavern all day for weeks, just for Wednesday night music club. You must have yourreasons, like your friend Jim.”
“Did you say something to me?” Lumpy Jim called from the next room.
“Hush,” I hissed. “I meant the other Jim.”
“What?” Lumpy said.
“Notyou, Jim.”
The silence from the gaping opening in the wall was a presence, watchful. I got close and peered down, though there was nothing so see.
At last Pascal’s voice came from below again. “Dahlia?”
I let out a shaking breath. “Yes, Pascal. Yes, I’m here. Did you find anything?”
“What is this place?” Pascal said.
