The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(56)

MN: You know, you know! Why do you keep asking? Why do you keep asking what you know?

[Subject needed some time to regain composure.]

HE: How long has it been going on?

MN: Seven years.

HE: Does anyone else know? Does Mrs. Ellingham know?

MN: She doesn’t know. She’s . . . distracted.

HE: What does that mean?

MN: She’s . . . I don’t want to speak ill of her. I know how that looks, especially now. But you have to understand, she’s not like him. She’s not serious-minded. We understand each other. He can talk to me.

HE: On the night of the kidnapping, Mr. Ellingham could not be found for a period of approximately forty-five minutes, around two in the morning. He was in his office, and then, he wasn’t. Do you know anything about that missing time?

[Subject had no reply.]

GM: Take your time, Miss Nelson. We’re not looking to embarrass anyone. We just want to know what happened.

MN: We met.

GM: Where?

MN: We have a meeting place, where they’re building the gymnasium.

GM: Do you have any sense of how Mr. Ellingham got to you without being seen leaving his office, or the house?

MN: We have . . . a way.

[A photographic copy of the Truly Devious letter was presented.]

HE: Have you ever seen this letter?

MN: No.

HE: Did Albert Ellingham ever mention it to you?

MN: No.

HE: When you worked at the newspaper, did you get letters like this?

MN: We got threatening letters, of course. Someone put a bomb in Albert’s car there. We got letters, all sorts.

HE: Look at it carefully. Did you ever get anything like this at the newspaper?

MN: Nothing exactly like it. Never cut-out letters.

HE: Is there anything else that we should know about? Anything at all? Anything related to Iris or Alice?

MN: Little Alice. Oh. Albert lives for her. You don’t understand. He lives for that little girl. You’d think she was . . .

HE: Was what?

[Subject had no reply.]

HE: Was what, Miss Nelson?

MN: You’d think she was the only person in the world. That’s all. The only person in the world.





15


“DAVID,” STEVIE SAID QUIETLY. BETWEEN HER HEAVY HEARTBEAT AND the smell, she felt like she might vomit at any moment, but she had to hold it down, had to get some control over this. “Back up.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s blocked,” she said. “Just back up.”

No matter how calm she tried to keep her voice, there was a note in it that gave away the fact that something very bad was happening. He stepped around her to look to see what was in the passage.

“What the hell is . . .”

She heard him figure it out.

“Back up,” she said gently. “Back up, back up. This is how we help her.”

“Stevie . . .” There was a lightness in his voice. It was almost giddy.

“Turn around,” Stevie said, moving him back, foot by foot. “I need you to turn around.”

Now she was echoing Larry’s words to her. Turn around. Don’t look, because if you look it stays with you forever.

“We can’t leave her,” he said.

“We’re getting help. Turn. Come on.”

She had to maneuver him back into the main artery of the tunnel. Her adrenaline had taken over. Somehow, she knew how to do this, how to grab David’s hand and lead him back to the end.

When they reached the ladder, Nate was hanging over the opening, his wizard hood drooping around his neck.

“Up,” Stevie said. “Move, move.”

Nate backed up, and she and David scrambled out. When David got up, he staggered into the hallway and bent over, half gagging.

“What’s going on?” Nate said. “What’s down there?”

Stevie shook her head, partially because she could not find the words and partially to hold down the feeling of sickness.

“What is happening?” Nate said again.

“Ellie,” Stevie replied. “Ellie is down there.”

“Ellie is down there? Hiding? I have to call for help!”

Stevie shook her head, and Nate got the message and fell back against the wall.

Stevie pulled her phone from her pocket. David lurched along the wall and reached for it, pushing it down.

“Don’t. No, I have to call,” David said, pulling out his phone. “Both of you should go in your rooms. Put some headphones on. That’s where you’ve been. Play something loud. Go.”

“What?” Stevie said.

“You can’t have been down there, Stevie. You get it? Nate, you get it? She wasn’t there. I went down there alone. Just me.”

“What, we’re lying now?” Nate said. “To cops?”

“You know what it means if Stevie was down there. I’ll be okay. She won’t be. All we’re doing is reporting. That’s all.”

There was an urgency in David that was entirely unfamiliar, a high flush to his cheeks and a rasp in his voice. Nate turned gray, as gray as the wizard robe he was still wearing.

“Just go in your rooms and shut the door,” David said again, his voice pleading. “That’s all you have to do.”