Swiss Vendetta (Agnes Luthi Mysteries #1)(87)
“We pulled out the chairs,” Mulholland said. “Estanguet suggested we see if she was lying on top of them.” He shrugged. “And he thumped the tapestries, but they’re too close to the wall to conceal even a small child. This can’t be where she is. We looked.”
Agnes did a quick circuit of the room, glancing behind the suits of armor, under the table. She fingered her pocket, wishing for a cigarette. They had to be close. Mimi was in the chateau, she was sure of it.
“Do you remember getting lost for a few days when you were small?” Julien asked Daniel. “I was already at boarding school, but the old cook talked about it for years.”
“I was three? Maybe four?” Daniel replied. “I don’t remember anything other than what they told me later. There was a door open and I wandered in and someone shut it and didn’t know to look for me there.”
“How would Estanguet know where to hide her?” Marie-Chantal asked. “How could he find someplace we don’t know about?”
“He’s been in the library for months,” said Agnes, eyes trained on Winston. “Maybe he learned something there. Documents that show the chateau’s evolution. Hidden passages, places built over. I keep finding concealed stairs. There are tunnels you had forgotten about. Maybe we didn’t search everywhere.”
“The American might have helped him,” Mulholland said.
“What do you know about him?” Agnes asked.
“Unwittingly helped him. Nick Graves is doing research on the construction of the chateau.” The Vallottons looked at Mulholland, startled. “I can read,” he said. “And sometimes when I can’t sleep I wander the library. His notes are laid out on one of the tables.”
Winston rubbed his head along the largest of the tapestries. Six meters long and four tall, it covered the length of one wall. Agnes noticed that the woven hunting scene was complete with mounted horses, running dogs, and fearsome wild beasts, and she hoped that wasn’t what attracted Winston. He walked up and down the length of the fabric, nose down, inhaling huge drafts of air. Under the pressure from his head the entire scene rippled. Suddenly he stopped, drawing in a torrent of oxygen through his nose. He held his breath for a second, then moaned, sitting.
“There,” Agnes pointed. “He’s found something.”
Julien ran to the end of the tapestry and hauled the edge away from the wall. It was heavy and he could only move it a hand’s width from the stone. “Hand me a light,” he called.
Agnes knelt to peer beneath his outstretched arm, attempting to help hold the fabric. Her flashlight beam caught the outline of a slight recess in the wall several meters away. Winston pushed underneath and Agnes followed. The fabric’s weight pressed against her head and shoulder, and she had difficulty edging forward. In front of her, the dog’s nose was pressed to the ground and his back end quivered.
“He’s got the scent,” Agnes called out, her voice muffled. “There’s a door. It doesn’t run all the way to the ground, that’s why no one saw it beneath the bottom of the tapestry. What’s behind this wall?”
“A billiard room is on the other side,” said Daniel, “but between this room and that, the wall is more of a thickness. There’s a spiral stair up and a small water closet, some built-in cabinets further along.”
“There’s room in the thickness then, for concealment,” Agnes said.
Julien Vallotton slipped behind her and held the light while she ran her hands along the wood surface. She found a ring latch flush with the wood. She pulled and turned the ring, but it was locked. She pulled again and tried to rattle it loose, but the door was solid and the lock held.
“There’s no key. Mimi?” she called out, pressing her mouth to the juncture of door and wall. Nothing. She called out again.
Vallotton joined her. “Mimi!”
“She can’t hear us even if she’s there,” said Agnes, ducking from beneath the tapestry. She motioned to Marie-Chantal.
“Watch your head,” Daniel Vallotton hollered to his brother.
Mulholland joined the women and together they yanked. The rod holding the tapestry pulled from the wall and a thousand pounds of cloth crashed to the ground in a thunder of dust. The iron rod and brackets slipped past Julien Vallotton’s head and landed on top of the heap of fabric. They stood still for a moment, stunned.
“More notice next time,” Julien Vallotton said before turning to pound on the door.
Agnes grabbed an iron fire poker from a cold hearth, then leapt over the pile of cloth. Julien stepped sideways. She judged the heft of the poker then swung. It crashed into the metal fitting of the old lock. She struck again but the iron pieces wouldn’t dislodge.
“Mimi?” she called out again, swinging violently. Winston waited until the poker was lowered, then pressed his nose to the door and sniffed loudly.
“Wait,” said Julien. “Listen.”
They held their ears to the wood. There was a muffled cry.
“It’s her,” he said.
“Someone get the doctor,” Agnes called over her shoulder.
Marie-Chantal and Mulholland ran for help and Agnes wiped perspiration from her brow. Julien took the poker. On the third strike, the lock dislodged and he wrenched it from the casing. The door fell open. Agnes swung her flashlight beam into the darkness and followed him down the steep irregular stairs, nearly pushing him over in her hurry. It was a small slice of dungeon, unchanged since ancient times, isolated from the larger sections by modifications long forgotten. It was very dark and the air was moist and stale. It felt like fear.