Page 57 of Shadow of Doubt

When Gibert nodded, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. They were greeted with a whoosh of cold air racing up the shaft. Looking up, she could see that the fake building had no roof, just a grate.

Gibert had been correct, these faux buildings were all over central Paris. Many of them were painted with trompe l’oeil details, like partially open windows, and some even showed people inside.

Brunelle stared down into the semi-illuminated shaft. A ladder, surrounded by a safety cage, went all the way to the bottom. The descent was broken every ten to twelve feet by a landing of metal grating.

“Ready?” she asked.

“After you,” Gibert replied.

The shaft was filthy. No matter where she placed her grip, her hands came away covered in a fine, dark soot. Already, she was envisioning a long, hot bath in her near future.

When they finally got to the bottom, she wiped her palms on her jeans, leaving black streaks. Looking up, she guessed that they were about five to six stories underground. They were now in some sort of concrete and steel rotunda. Piping and flexible, brightly colored conduit lined the walls. Two fans, with blades the size of a small aircraft propeller, satbehind grime-caked, metal louvers. They clicked on and off, as necessary, to help circulate the air.

“Which way?” Gibert asked.

There was really only one direction and Brunelle pointed to it.Straight ahead.

As they walked, they could hear and smell the underground subway system. While there were the occasional pungent whiffs of urine, the overwhelming odor was of burnt rubber, as many of the train carriages didn’t operate on steel wheels, but rather on rubber tires.

“I suppose it makes sense that a Russian assassin would choose to disappear down here. Paris has the busiest subway system in Europe. Want to guess whose is even busier?”

“Don’t say Moscow,” Brunelle warned.

Raising his finger gun again, the cop aimed it at her and fired.

She shook her head and kept walking.

“Just out of curiosity, what exactly are we looking for down here?” he asked.

Brunelle removed a map she had printed back at her office and replied, “A way out that would allow our killer to remain invisible.”

“Meaning someplace with no cameras.”

“Correct.”

“But that’s pretty much impossible,” Gibert said. “Any Métro station he walks down these tunnels to, the moment he steps onto a platform, he’ll be photographed. He could climb up another shaft, but he’ll have the same problem. As soon as he steps out onto any given street, there’s bound to be cameras. Either he’s counting on us being unable to check all the feeds, or something else is going on.”

“You’re getting warmer,” replied Brunelle, as they arrived at an intersection and she paused to read plates affixed to the walls with the names of the streets running above them.

Gibert followed as she took the tunnel branching off to the right.

“You’re not going to give me anything?” he asked. “Nothing at all to work with?”

“At this point, all I have is a guess,” she admitted.

“Which is?”

“Using the rooftops and camping out in the National Archives shows a detailed level of planning.”

“As does securing a master key to access the air vent,” Gibert added.

“Exactly,” Brunelle replied. “So why would it stop there? Our killer has dropped off the CCTV system. Even if his limp was faked, we have his natural gait on record from when he entered the archives. I actually agree with you and think he may have been injured at some point Sunday night. Regardless, he’s not going to appear on camera again. That made me wonder how he could continue to fully stay off of it. Then it hit me.”

Gibert waited for her to explain. Instead, she pulled out her flashlight and began shining it along the wall of the tunnel. Up ahead was a narrow recess that contained some sort of door.

As they neared, they could see that the door had a large sign warning of high-voltage electricity housed within. Producing her key, Brunelle unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Moment of truth,” she said, stepping inside.

Gibert followed and as they entered, the lights automatically turned on. The space was filled with industrial-level wiring, breaker boxes, and various other electrical and mechanical equipment.

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