Chapter 9 - The River Mill Tunnels
The air inside the old river mill was thick with the scent of damp concrete, rust, and stagnant river water. Outside, the rain had turned into a steady, driving downpour, hammering against the corrugated iron roof overhead and sending muddy rivulets streaming down the concrete walls of the drainage access.
Detective Miller moved cautiously ahead of me, her tactical flashlight cutting a sharp, blinding beam through the absolute darkness. Behind us, muffled shouts and the barking of tracking dogs echoed from the main entrance yards away, but down here in the sub-level utility corridors, the world narrowed down to the sound of our own breathing and the steady drip of water from the ceiling pipes.
"Watch your step here," I whispered, pointing down at a rusted iron grate set into the floor. "This is the ventilation shaft that connects to the basement of our house."
Detective Miller knelt, sweeping her light across the hinges. "It’s been unbolted recently. Someone came through here within the last twenty minutes."
A sharp metallic clatter echoed from further down the dark corridor, followed by the heavy thud of running footsteps splashing through standing water.
"Federal Police! Stop right there!" Detective Miller shouted, raising her weapon and sprinting forward around a concrete pillar.
I scrambled after her, my sneakers sliding against the slick concrete floor. The corridor opened up into a massive, circular subterranean chamber housing the old industrial water pumps that had powered the mill decades ago. In the center of the room, standing beside an open service hatch that led deeper into the estate's private foundations, was a figure drenched in rain and mud.
It was Arthur Vance.
His expensive silk tie was gone, his dress shirt torn at the shoulder, and his face smeared with dark engine grease and dirt. In his right hand, he held a heavy steel wrench he had pulled from a wall bracket, his chest heaving as he stared back at us with wild, desperate eyes.
"Stay back!" Robert snarled, his voice echoing off the damp concrete walls. "Don't take another step, Detective! I swear to God I'll smash this control housing and flood the entire lower level!"
Detective Miller kept her service pistol leveled directly at his center mass. "It's over, Robert. The federal indictments are signed, your brother is free, and your corporate assets have been seized. Drop the wrench."
Robert let out a manic, broken laugh. "Free? Thomas is a lunatic! My company is my life! I built this empire from nothing, and no federal prosecutor and no ungrateful brat is going to take it away from me!"
He swung his gaze past the detective, his eyes locking onto me where I stood half-hidden behind a concrete support pillar.
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"You," Robert hissed, taking a sudden, threatening step forward. "This is all your fault. If you had just stayed behind the curtain like you were told, none of this would have happened."
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