“My men have cleared the interior. I’m told there isn’t a soul on the premises.”
“Besides the man who made the distress call,” Carter said.
They stepped inside the entrance hall and Roche gave Carter a skeptical look.
“This way,” Roche said, gesturing toward a passageway into the kitchen. They climbed a stairway and entering an apartment heard a voice from behind a wall.
“Come out of there,” commanded Roche.
“The code first. I need to know you’re the police.”
The Captain rolled his eyes, called the Versailles police station and got the security code for Falcon Lair.
Moments later the raised paneling in the wall pivoted and revealed a hidden room.
Alfred stepped out.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
“I presume you are Alfred?” Roche said. “And that you placed the distress call?”
“That’s correct.”
“I’m Captain Roche, Prefect of Police, and this is Agent Carter.”
“How can I help you?”
“You can start by telling us what happened,” replied Roche.
“Certainly, after hearing explosions and gunfire I hid inside this panic room,” he said, motioning to the opening in the wall. “Then I phoned the police.”
Roche was incredulous.
“That’s it?”
“I don’t understand your question, sir,” Alfred said, his expression blank as he played dumb.
“Where is Mr. Lynch?”
“I don’t know. I entered the hidden compartment following the security breach.”
“Is Mr. Lynch in residence?”
“Yes. At least he was when I served his brandy at bedside.”
“When?”
“Eleven thirty last night.”
“Does Mr. Lynch have a panic room?”
“He’s told me as much but I haven’t seen it.”
“Follow me,” the Captain said and spun on his heels.
Roche led them downstairs into the kitchen, stopped and turned to Alfred.
“Where are the servants?”
“Dismissed for a weekend holiday.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Who sent them away?”
“Mr. Lynch, of course.”
Roche turned to the exterior wall and pointed to bullet holes.
“This is strange. These holes are not from someone shooting his way in, but out. And there are no guards or security personnel on the premises.”
Roche fixed his gaze on Alfred.
“Can you explain this?”
“No, I cannot,” Alfred said, his face like stone. “Security arrangements are made by Mr. Lynch and no one else.”
Roche turned to Carter.
“This door was breached with explosives,” he observed, referring to the kitchen’s outer door.
Carter was silent.
Then the SWAT leader came in.
“Sir,” he said to Roche. “We found something downstairs. I think you’ll want to see it.”
With Carter behind him, Roche followed the SWAT leader into the basement and down the steps into the dungeon. He stepped over to a cell door and inspected the lock which had been sheared by an explosive charge.
James Webb could have been confined here as his wife claimed.
“Interesting,” Carter observed.
“There’s more,” announced the SWAT leader.
“More?”
“Yes sir. Follow me.”
They returned to the main level and in the library found a retracted bookcase revealing the secret passage.
“Right through here,” the SWAT leader said.
At the bottom of the stairs he stood outside the door as Roche and Carter entered the high-tech war room where Thomas Lynch had planned his scheme against the Senate.
They were astonished by the sheer volume of evidence. Carter was about to say something when the SWAT leader entered.
“Sir, there’s a man and a woman at the entrance gate. They’ve asked to enter.”
“What are their names?” demanded Roche.
“James and Kate Webb.”
He paused.
“Let them pass.”
Returning to the main level, Roche and Carter stood on the landing outside the entry doors. Concerned about the explosive nature of the evidence they had found, Carter thought about how to broach the subject with Roche.
His apprehension was not misplaced. The evidence recovered in the cellar would send a truckload of people to prison. Carter tried not to think about the increase in the bureau’s workload stemming from the conspiracy.
And there was the delicate process for decision-makers who would decide what information to disclosed, and what to cover up.
Carter found comfort in the fact that such decisions were above his pay grade.
Roche finally spoke.
“I must say, this is a very peculiar situation.”
“I understand,” Carter replied. “We’ll have to concoct a cover story.”
Roche turned to Carter.
“You mean something like the plan that was ‘concocted’ for the assault on this chateau?”
Carter stonewalled.
“I caution you to tread lightly. There’s no proof of an assault.”
“That may be true, but your government has a lot of explaining to do, nonetheless.”
After the police officer at the gate allowed James and Kate to enter they continued along the driveway and entered the forecourt.
As they got out of the car, Kate said, “Mr. Roche, this is my husband James.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Webb. This is Agent Carter with the FBI.”
Carter turned to James.
“So, you ditched us in Georgetown.”
“Nothing personal, just business.”
“I can live with that.”
They shook hands.
“I’d like to apologize, Mrs. Webb,” Roche said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you before.”
“It’s alright,” she replied, placing an arm around James. “The important thing is that my husband is safe.”
James and Kate bid farewell to Roche and Carter.
They walked to the motor court and shared a kiss.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
The Tangled Webb Page 21
