Duncan searched ahead. “How deep do these excavations go?”
“Come see.”
Vella led them down another narrow passageway. It ended at a black metal door, heavily riveted. A large padlock hung on it.
“Past here, the caves and diggings are considered treacherous. Down there, you’ll find some of the oldest places of worship, going back to the Roman era.” He glanced to them. “I understand that you’re particularly interested in exploring that area.”
“As part of an archaeological study,” Naomi confirmed.
That was their cover story.
The monsignor gave them a long look, as if sensing the subterfuge, then took out a large black key and freed the lock. He opened the door with a complaint of hinges. “Do take care.”
Duncan intended to follow that instruction.
Past the door, a short flight of carved steps cut through the natural limestone. They broke out flashlights and continued in silence, hushed by expectation and worry. Only their strained breathing and Tag’s cane tapping on stone broke the quiet.
Once they reached the bottom, a small antechamber opened. From it, a warren of narrow, low-roofed tunnels headed off in multiple directions. Many looked barely wide enough to pass through sideways. It could take days to search this place.
But they had come prepared, knowing what they needed to find.
“We should get started,” Sharyn said.
Naomi dropped her pack and withdrew a wide case. She snapped it open, revealing a boxy handheld unit nestled inside. She pulled it out and snapped the cord of a tubular wand to its side.
“Let’s hope we don’t run out of battery juice,” Archie commented. “It looks like we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
Naomi powered the unit up. “I have an extra battery pack. Just in case. But I’m certain this will shorten our search.”
“My legs thank you for that,” Tag said.
She shrugged. “As an archaeologist, it’s not my first rodeo. We use magnetometers like this in the field. Helps pinpoint magnetic anomalies underground that can reveal buried items that don’t belong there.”
“And you truly think this can help us find the hidden door?” Duncan asked.
“I do. This is avectormagnetometer, made to measure the strength and direction of magnetic fields.” She waved the wand like a steampunk witch. “If there’s even a whiff of any magnetite down here, it’ll sniff it out.”
“Like Katch did with the poison back at the bunker.” Archie then winced, looking guilty for reminding them.
A silence settled over the group. Dr. Bianca Russo had been buried in the Dolomites, near a spring that had been her favorite camping site, according to a colleague. Laurent had also kept his word and set up a large endowment, named after the biologist and funded by a Jewish organization, to finance the ongoing repopulation efforts in her beloved mountains.
But their group was not the only ones mourning the biologist.
Duncan pictured his last sight of Julian Wright, tumbling over the cliff’s edge, being mauled by Katch. Days later, the professor’s broken body had been discovered at the bottom, along with the shattered remains of a wildlife tracking device. There had been no sign of Katch. It seemed even lynxes landed on their feet—or maybe the impact of the long fall had been cushioned by Wright’s bulk.
Either way, over the following months, the locals reported hearing yowls of a lone cat at night, often near the burial site by the spring. Duncan hoped somehow Russo heard her friend, knowing she had prepared him for this moment.
To be free.
Just as she wished for him.
“I’m getting a strong signal in this direction.” Naomi pointed her wand toward one of the many tunnels.
They continued onward, following her lead, seeking their goal.
A hidden door rich in magnetite.
79
