“Yes, and none of that was on the blueprints,” I tell him.
Louis faces Matthew, and it’s like the two of them forget I’m even there. “Sounds like a smugglers’ tunnel.”
“Exactly,” Matthew replies, equally excited. “And we all know tales about smuggling in those tunnels near the railway.”
“We do? I don’t,” I say, sweeping up a stray noodle from the desk.
Louis frowns at my interruption. “Well, those of us in the know, know. What do we know specifically about the Dominion’s tunnels?”
I would love to know who those “in the know” are. I’m a building inspector. Shouldn’t I be in the know?
“Well,” I say, “there’s only one ‘official’ tunnel these days. It connects the hotel to Union Station, and it’s used every day by tens of thousands of commuters and hotel guests. That tunnel is not connected in any way to the door I saw in the basement.” I hesitate. “At least not that I know of.”
Louis taps his pen repeatedly on the table. I can almost see him thinking. Matthew is sitting back, enjoying the conversation. I wonder how many other mysteries the two of them might have discussed in the past. In the next moment, Louis is on his feet, pacing. He grabs his phone off the desk and speaks monotone into it.
“George. Louis. Today’s collapse. I need permits, inspections, and contractor records. Need evidence of cost cutting, cheap materials, or deliberate sabotage. Time is of the essence.”
He scowls. “Yeah. And check into the names of the investigating detectives on that balcony collapse six years ago. You know the one I’m talking about?”
He hangs up and dials again. “Fred. Louis. I know it’s Monday. I know you’re watching the football game tonight. I don’t care. Need whatever you can find on Vale’s Property Inspections. Claudia Vale, in particular. Yes, yes. I know who she is. Also dig up what you can about a company: Montey Series Industries. Hardware. Probably out of China. We suspect they’re trafficking blow.”
I feel a pang of guilt hearing Claudia’s name, but that passes quickly. She deserves whatever’s coming. I mean, Ihopesomething’s coming her way. Otherwise, I’m done.
“While you’re doing that, do a run on her employee, Bridget Kelly. I want a listing of all her projects, any reviews, any possible connection to today’s building collapse.”
Me?I mouth at Matthew. He shrugs.
“I want to know about a Paul Brzezicka, recently deceased under questionable circumstances at the Dominion. You know the drill. I’ll send you the spelling.”
Louis listens, all efficiency. “Oh, you know,” he says to football-watching Fred. “Yesterday. We both know you aren’t doing anything these days. Help me out.” Pause. “Thank you. Give Helen my best.”
“Anything else you need to tell me?” he asks us, shoving his phone in his back pocket. His tight expression prods for more, but I think we’ve told him all we know. “No? All right. Well, first off, I’ll give you a little insider info on Ms. Claudia Vale. She’s been implicated over the years in a number of things, but she’s slippery. Nothing sticks. No one’s proven anything yet, though this paperwork could be very useful in doing that. Now, before we get too excited, I need to warn you that Ms. Vale is not the lead on all this. She works for a much more dangerous guy.”
“Who?”
“Big fella. He’s got his hands in everything, including drug and human trafficking. It would be a prize to catch him, but I don’t see that happening. Unless, of course, we can flip Ms. Vale.” He chuckles to himself. “Wouldn’t count on that. She’d rather go to jail than give him up, I imagine.”
“Why?”
“Because if she turns on him, she won’t make it through a week be-hind bars.”
“But who is the man in charge? What’s his name?”
He glares at me. “I have my sources, and I’m not giving them up.”
Matthew and I exchange a startled glance. “No, I—”
“You’ll know when the rest of the city knows, on the day I publish my front-page exposé.”
He seems efficient, but I’m not sure he’s thought this all the way through. “Well, then you’ll be the one in hiding, and we’ll be bringing you Thai food.”
“This isn’t my first exposé, Miss Kelly.”
I snap my mouth shut, but I have to ask. “What happens next? What can I do?”
“We,” Matthew puts in, taking my hand. “What canwedo?”
I am so grateful in that moment. I have Matthew, and I have Louis. I guess I also have his contacts, George and Football Fred.
