Chapter 13

I sucked in a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. The last turning of the path through the trees on Steffi Bloom’s estate had just revealed a trap door in the ground, standing open, its ground camouflage on one side looking odd when vertical.

Grant stopped as he felt me freeze. He turned to look at my face, gave my hand a squeeze, and said quietly, “Amy, it’s okay. We’re on Steffi Bloom’s property. Andrew isn’t anywhere around. Bill is right here. We’ve got cell phones. Nothing’s going to happen.”

I breathed out slowly and tried to throw off my funk. “I know that. Just give me a minute.” Bill stood quietly behind us, holding a huge case full of equipment and supplies.

Larry, who had reached the trap door, came back to us with a puzzled frown. “Everything okay? Bill, is there anything here that shouldn’t be here?”

I waved him off. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be okay in a sec. It just hit me the wrong way.”

Larry looked back at the trap door, then suddenly understood. “Oh! Right. I’m sorry, Amy, I should have asked if this was going to mess you up.” He bit his lip. “Do you need to ... go back?”

“No! There is no way in the world I’d miss this.” I managed a smile, and reached out to stroke Larry’s Zeke-face. “But you better realize, there’s no better way to show how much I love you than following you down into that hole.”

Larry suddenly teared up, and threw his arms around me. “I know, I know. Thank you so much! You being here means the world to me.”

Grant cleared his throat. “We’ve got about sixty minutes.”

Larry let go, wiped his eyes, and kissed me. He looked back at the trap door, and the light was back in his eyes again. “Let me go down first, and follow me after about a minute. I want to have just a little time by myself down there.” He grinned at me. “I’ll let you know if there are any traps.”

I laughed, and waved him on. “You go ahead. I’m okay, really.”

I watched as Larry stepped down onto the first of the concrete steps revealed by the open trap door, then paused, turning in place on the step. I could tell that Larry was taking in the world one last time. His last sight of sunlight, filtering through the branches of the trees. His last taste of fresh outdoor air, sweetened by the leaves whispering in the light breeze.

He finally turned and continued down the steps. I watched Larry’s bobbing head sink into the ground as he descended into his personal dungeon.

I leaned against Grant and laughed weakly. “I think I’m more nervous than he is. I hope Steffi gets what she needs out of this.”

Grant smiled. “If she doesn’t, it won’t be Larry’s fault.”

I looked around. It felt as if I, too, were taking in the lasts sights of the outside world. I still felt hesitant to go down through the trap door, but Grant was right. There wasn’t any danger. I was happy, though, to give Larry a little extra alone-time in the place of his final, long-anticipated show.

After a few minutes, I shook myself, took a step forward with a grunt of effort, and walked to the entrance. I kept an extra-tight grip on Grant’s hand, though, as he walked down the steps with me. Bill followed us and pulled the trap door closed.

I blinked at the sight of the room, brightly lit by recessed lighting along the ceiling. This was the anteroom. I hadn’t quite anticipated it looking like this.

Larry was closing the door of a large refrigerator, laughing. “Well, I guess she’s got everything she needs. She must live a classic bachelorette life.” Larry gestured at the microwave oven. “Lots of stuff in the fridge to go in there. Think I’ll get any of it?”

I shrugged. “She never did say much about just what her fantasy consisted of. Maybe she’ll feed you steadily for two days till you say, ‘Just hang me, I can’t eat anymore.’”

All three of us laughed, and continued looking around. In addition to the kitchen equipment, the anteroom also sported a recliner with a floor lamp beside it, with a table and several books on the other side. Grant fingered the volumes. “I figured she’d be a reader. I guess she’ll be out here relaxing while you’re in the dungeon stewing.”

“Speaking of which, let’s take a look!” Larry was at the heavy metal door opposite the concrete step entrance, through which Bill had already gone. He looked into the room beyond. “Wow!”

I came up behind Larry, and rested my hand on his shoulder as he looked in.

The lighting in the dungeon was completely different from the anteroom. One spotlight shone on the wall across from the entrance, which was equipped as one would expect in a dungeon. Heavy metal chains and shackles hung from iron rings were embedded in the rough brick wall. I hadn’t expected the large four-poster bed, the small lamp on a table beside it, and the small, cloth-covered dining table with two soft-looking leather chairs on opposite sides of it. There were candles on the tablecloth. To the left sat a large, very comfortable-looking overstuffed chair.

In the far corner of the right-hand wall stood a familiar sight: a hanging platform. I smiled. At the end of Larry’s three years of training, here was Larry’s place to stand alone, to give his life the ending he had dreamed of. Seeing it reminded me that I was moving daily toward the same goal.

There was a door in the near side of the left-hand wall, leading to a bathroom with a toilet, basin, shower, and bathtub. Whether Larry would be allowed to use the facilities was unknown.

The air in the dungeon seemed fresh, and unexpectedly dry for an underground room. I wasn’t sure, at first, where the air conditioning vents were. Then I noticed a gap between the ceiling and the tops of the walls. Standing on one of the chairs to reach high enough, I could barely detect the movement of air from the gap. There was no sound from the air movement.

I stepped down, looked again at the bed, and laughed. “Well, we know what Zeke will be doing part of the time, anyway.”

Facing the shackle wall stood a digital video camera on a tripod, which Bill was checking out. He turned and vanished into one of the two side rooms. The camera began panning to various angles, making a soft whirring sound. I looked into the room, and saw that a black semicircular floor-to-ceiling curtain hid most of the room from view. Behind the curtain, Bill sat at a console, experimenting with the camera controls.

The door to the room was darkly smoked glass with a pebbly texture, crossed by vertical and horizontal lines in imitation of the pattern on the bricks of the wall. All the light in the room was focused on the wall with the shackles. The door would be nearly invisible when closed, just as Larry had suggested at the original meeting. The curtain prevented light from the room from seeping out into the dungeon proper.

Directly across from it, in the right-hand wall, was a similar room that Grant and I would share for the next two days. Grant and Larry had already gone in. I followed and found Grant checking out a console identical to the one in Bill’s room. He was sitting in one of the two softly-padded leather seats in front of the console. A large high-definition monitor in the console showed an image of the four-poster bed. Grant nodded to me. “It’s working. There’s a little delay when I first touch the controls, when it’s taking over. After that it’s pretty smooth.” The occupants of the two rooms would have to sleep sometimes, so the camera could be operated from either console. Whoever first saw a need to change the camera settings could do so.

Most importantly, the camera would be switched off at the beginning of Larry’s hanging. The Dean had been firm, as always, about the rule against recording a hanging, but had agreed to allow Steffi to preserve a video record of any non-hanging activities.

Larry lay on his back on Grant’s and my bed, moving his arms and legs as if making a snow angel. He giggled. “I think my bed out there is nicer.”

I laughed. “What makes you think it’s your bed? I think it’s for Stephanie’s comfort while she watches you suffer.”

“Bet you anything I’ll get to sleep in it. Snuggled up with Stephanie.”

“What have you got to bet with?”

Larry laughed. “Touch”eacute;.”

Grant looked back at Larry. “Zeke, can we do a sound check?” He gestured toward the door leading into the dungeon.

Larry sighed, and levered himself off the bed. “So much for my last chance to relax.”

I smiled. “Couple more days and you can relax forever.”

Larry grinned. “I’ll earn it.”

Grant snorted. “No kidding.”

I pushed the door closed behind Larry. It sealed snugly against a rubber gasket, and required some force to close it. It finally latched with a sharp click. I came back to the console and watched the monitor as Larry wandered randomly around the room, saying whatever came into his head. The camera followed him under Bill’s control. Larry’s aimless chatter came clearly through the console speakers. I twisted the volume knob all the way to “Off,” and suddenly there no sound at all from Larry. I was impressed with the soundproofing—I couldn’t hear through the door. Steffi obviously would not be able to hear whatever small sounds Grant and I might make. Anyway, we didn’t intend to make a lot of noise.