The World Beneath

Chapter 38

Vivian gave up on sleep. She’d dozed a little in Tesla’s bedroom, after insisting on sleeping on his bed, but too shy to do more than lie down on top of the quilt. She didn’t know exactly where his bolt-hole was, but it was up here somewhere. She’d prowled around, but one or the other of the cops had shadowed her every move, and she didn’t want them around when she found the secret door.

Eventually, she’d told them that she was going to bed, and they’d reluctantly left her alone. When the men had done their hourly patrols, she’d searched the house for Tesla’s bolt-hole, but she hadn’t found it. She’d also found no evidence that Tesla had come back into the house, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had. He needed food. He needed Wi-Fi. And she’d noticed that the cops left the house together every hour for about five minutes. If she were Tesla, she’d sneak in during that time and gather whatever she needed from inside.

She looked up at the plastered ceiling above Tesla’s bed. The plasterer had done an excellent job — the ceiling was perfectly smooth, coved at the edges. A hairline crack ran along one corner, probably from the house shifting when the trains went by. All in all, the house was solid, the kind she’d only read about in books.

She fingered the antique quilt. Her mother would have loved it — tiny stitches formed intricate patterns. The seamstress had spent a long time getting it just right. The quilt and sheets smelled like lilac. Where had Tesla found a lilac-scented detergent? It fit the room perfectly.

The agents downstairs, and they were agents, not police, closed the front door. Time for another circuit of the tunnels. She didn’t think that Joe would come in that way. He’d come in through the entrance he’d escaped out of, wherever it was.

She’d lied when she told them that Joe had slipped down the right-hand tunnel when he’d seen that the elevator was coming down, leaving her behind to answer questions. He had been under her protection at the time, so she’d felt obligated. If they caught him and charged him, her deceit might come to light.

If they caught him? When they caught him. She’d heard that today they were going to start searching the tunnels in a grid pattern with trained bloodhounds. Even with hundreds of miles of tunnels to hide in, Tesla wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever.

She sat up in bed, ran her fingers through her hair. She might as well look for him again. She’d do a round of the station, especially the restaurants, looking for the dog. She wished that she had the easy, and illegal, access to the surveillance footage that Tesla so obviously enjoyed. She’d have been able to monitor him from the comfort of her own home — or his.

As much as she’d been taken aback by the house when she first saw it, it had started to grow on her. She could see why he liked living in the sumptuous antique quarters completely isolated from the noise and bustle of the city above. His bedroom was bigger than her whole apartment and, she hated to admit it, it smelled better, too.

First stop, coffee. Then breakfast and a quick pass of the Wi-Fi stations in Grand Central. After that, she’d see if she could talk her way into searching the tunnels around Platform 36 on her own. She hadn’t managed to last night, but there would be a new officer on duty, and that would give her a second chance. If not, she’d come back here and poke around. He was close. She knew he was.

She’d use the syringe first and ask questions later. Joe might hate her for knocking him out, but if she could get him out of these tunnels safely, she’d take the heat.