“That’s a dead end,” Luc said, pointing to the tunnel going straight. “We’re going down. Get in single file, it’s a bit narrow here.” With that, he stepped into the darkness.
Visions of strange subterranean monsters sprung to mind. Why would anyone do this for fun? I thought, remembering the tourist brochures for dungeons and castle tunnels back at Luxembourg’s city hostel. It was so quiet down here, I could hear everyone breathing. Who knows what creatures lurk down here? Ones that prey on humans, I thought with a shudder. They can probably smell my sweaty fear from a mile away.
We finally reached the bottom of the stairwell. We were now in a large and open space. Latched on one wall was a thick wooden door. A pale yellow beam of sunlight seeped in through the cracks of the doorway, allowing us to see each other better, a welcome relief from the darkness of the tunnels we’d trekked through.
“Where does this go to?” Tetyana asked, surveying the door closely.
“Opens to the bottom of the parking lot,” Luc said. “This is the perfect place to dig an escape tunnel from upstairs. I didn’t have time to explore because I knew you guys would get worried. I think there’s a doorway to the upper floors somewhere here.”
“Wouldn’t it be obvious?” I said. “Like staring-in-our-face obvious?”
“No,” he said. “Should be a secret door, so the slaves and servants couldn’t find their way upstairs. One passageway for the kitchen staff and another to the main rooms upstairs.”
He stepped up to the nearest wall and started to tap it.
We watched him work on the wall for a few seconds, then the rest of us joined in, tapping here and there, poking into holes between rocks and pushing anything that jutted out. It was Win who found the entrance.
Next to what looked like a large crack in the wall was a simple wooden doorknob, the same color as the rock. She gave a cry as she discovered it. We all gathered around her.
It took several tries to open the door with all of us heaving in unison. It hadn’t been used in decades, maybe centuries.
Luc shone his torch into the pitch-black darkness.
“That’s not going to the bedrooms,” Tetyana said, shaking her head in disappointment.
We were staring at another staircase going down, this one going all the way to the middle of the earth, it seemed.
“The catacombs,” Luc whispered. A few steps below us, lit up by his torch, lay a human skull.
Chapter Forty-two
Luc shut the door and looked at us grimly.
“What now?” Katy asked.
“Back to Plan A,” Tetyana said, giving me a slight nod.
“Better get moving then,” I said.
Luc led us back up the narrow staircase, through the tunnel, and to the pantry chamber. When we got there, he pushed open the port barrel shelf and peeked in to double-check if anyone was in the cellar. But the cave was empty.
We got to work, gathering our supplies, including pastry flour, baker’s chocolate slabs, baking powder, and icing sugar. I asked Luc to find a decanter to pour half a liter of the hundred-year-old wine to substitute for the cognac. It wasn’t at all ideal, but I had to invent.
“How come you don’t want to use this?” Win asked.
I whirled around to see her holding the shiny black bottle of Rémy Martin Black Pearl Grande. Behind her, the fridge door was wide open.
“How...?” I stared at her.
“Did you just open that?” Katy asked.
Win nodded. Like it was the most perfectly normal thing to do, she walked over and handed me the bottle of the twenty-thousand-dollar Cognac.
I cradled it in my arms. “Tha-thanks,” I stammered.
“Wow,” Luc said, staring at her. “You’re really good.”
Win looked away demurely and went back to close the fridge door. “It was easy,” she said.
“You’re a whiz,” I said, finding my voice. “I’m so glad you’re with us. Thank you, Win!”
“Good job, hun,” Tetyana said, patting Win on her back. “And my plan was to shoot that lock if I had to. Imagine.”
Carrying our supplies, we walked up the steps in single file, back to the kitchenette. It was Katy, at the front of the line, who made the discovery.
“Door’s locked,” I heard her say.
“Lemme try,” Luc, who was right behind her, said. I heard rattling, banging, then swearing in French.
“What’s wrong with this damn door?” More rattling. “Someone’s locked it!”
“Does anyone have the key?” I called out from the back.
A chorus of “no’s” came from the stairway.
“Maybe it locks automatically when you close it,” Katy said.
“No,” Tetyana said. “Remember, I opened it from the cellar side when I came up to get the list?”
Luc was banging on the door. “Oi! Anyone there? Open up! Ovrez la porte vite!”
Nothing.
“Are we stuck?” I heard Win’s panicked voice.
“No,” Tetyana said. “There’s the door to the main kitchen. Let’s go back.”
We turned around and climbed down. Tetyana who was now in front of the line marched to the main door and yanked at the doorknob. She fell back.
“What the hell?” she said staring at the door.
“Locked?” Katy asked in shock. She walked up and tried the door as well, but it didn’t move.
“Lemme try,” Luc said. He put the supplies he was carrying on a nearby shelf, rolled up his sleeves and pulled on the handle with all his might. Nothing. No amount of pushing, pulling, jiggling or banging worked.
That was when I realized what had happened. “He locked us in,” I said. “That man actually locked us in.”
“Monsieur Wilmar?” Katy asked.
I nodded. “Probably laughing at us right behind that door.”
“Bastard,” Tetyana said, banging on the door.
“I told you, these people are mad,” Luc said. “C’est des conneries!” he yelled, shaking his fist at the door.
I had to agree. This was bull.
“Are we going to be stuck here forever?” Win asked, her face slightly pale.
“We’ll find a way out,” I said, not feeling as confident as my words. “Don’t worry.”
“Won’t die of starvation, that’s for sure,” Luc said wryly.
“Come here, Win,” Katy said, holding an arm out. “It’s a huge cave with lots of tunnels below. There’s plenty of air for us. Breathe now. That’s it.”
While I was trying to think of what to do, I caught a glint of steel from the corner of my eye. I looked up to see Tetyana pointing her gun at the lock.
“What are you doing?” I asked, shocked.
“Unlocking the damn door,” she said, in that quiet voice she used whenever she was about to do something dangerous. “Stand back everyone.”
“We can’t go around shooting at things!”
“I don’t plan to stay stuck here forever.”
“What if they call the police?”
She hesitated.
“How are you going to even have a chat about immigration with the Dragon Lady?”
Tetyana lowered her weapon slowly.
“So we wait till they return to replenish their royal supplies?” she snarled, glaring at the door.
“Guys!” Luc called out.
I turned to look. He was fiddling near those port barrels again.
“There’s another way out.”
“What other way?” Katy asked.
“Back down. Remember that door to the parking lot?”
“Maybe that’s locked too,” Katy said.
“Nope, I tried it. There’s a dried crust around the frame, but I think I can open it.”
We looked at each other.
Tetyana tucked her gun inside her jacket and said with a sigh, “Well, not much of a choice, is there?”
“Worst-case scenario, you can shoot that door down,” I said. “It’ll be less of a scene t
here, than inside the building.”
“You’re worried about making a scene?” Tetyana said, her mouth curling into that old sneer of hers. “I’d like to make a scene on the idiots who frigging locked us in.”
“We have to use diplomacy, not violence here,” I said. “I’m trying to get someone important here to help us.”
Ignoring me, she marched toward the port barrel shelf door, which Luc was now holding open for us.
Our trip down took longer than the first time because we were laden with supplies now. Also, Tetyana was in a bad mood, Win was on the verge of a panic attack, and I was trying to keep my claustrophobic fears from flaring up again.
It was a relief to get to the end chamber with the crusty door to the parking lot.
Luc was correct. The door was rusty and heavy but it was working. We stumbled out of the cave at the edge of the castle’s parking lot.
Our van was exactly where we’d left it. No one else was around and all the delivery trucks had left. We walked toward the castle’s service entrance, which thankfully, remained wide open.
I stopped before we walked in.
“We’re going to walk in with our heads held high. We will be graceful.” I glanced over at Tetyana. “That will be the best revenge.”
She muttered something under her breath. I turned and walked in the door.
It was Monsieur Wilmar who saw us first.
He was busy cutting meat at the main counter with a butcher knife when we walked in. His eyes widened as he saw us enter. I gave him a quick nod and a noncommittal smile and kept walking. The entire kitchen had fallen silent. No one in my group said a word either.
We strode through the kitchen hall, heads held high, carrying our bins, bags, and trays of supplies toward the kitchenette. Someone had locked this door too. From the outside. I unlocked it, took the key out and pocketed it. Everyone trooped in after me. Tetyana came in last and made a point of slamming the door behind her.
“Phew!” I said, putting the baking soda and chocolate containers on the kitchen counter.
I looked at my team.
“Wanna help me bake some cakes?” I asked cheerfully.
No one smiled.
Win had found a stack of white aprons in a drawer when she’d been rummaging for supplies. I took one and tied it around me. Win and Katy followed suit, and to my surprise, so did Luc. Win discovered a chef’s hat at the bottom of the pile and plonked it in front of me. I put it on and got to work.
It took us an hour to mix the batter, bake the cakes, and decorate them using whatever I could find in the fridge.
Luc seemed to have forgotten his skepticism. He joined in his sous chef duties, swirling chocolate icing on top of the mini-cakes like I showed him, working intently and even egging others to a competition of who could ice the fastest. He took to his tasks so naturally that I thought, If I ever have a bakery one day, I’m hiring him.
Tetyana helped as well, but not as happily. “I’m a fighter, not a damn baker,” she snapped at one point, looking angrily at an icing glob that had fallen on the floor with a splat.
By the time we were done, my team looked like legitimate kitchen help, with icing sugar smeared on their aprons and their faces.
On the flour-stained countertop now sat a three-tier platter of fifty black forest chocolate mini-cakes made from a Chef Pierre’s gourmet recipe plus that one outrageously exorbitant ingredient. I looked at the clock. Three twenty-five. We were just on time.
Someone knocked on the door. Before anyone could get to it, Chloe strode in.
“Bonjour,” she said, with a curt nod.
“Bonjour,” all except Tetyana greeted her.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling like I needed to salute her or something.
“Oh!” She’d noticed the cakes.
She stood still, staring at the display.
“This recipe was a special favorite of Madame Bouchard,” I said. “And Chef Pierre,” I added, remembering his picture in the magazine.
“Chef Pierre?” Chloe looked at me, surprised. “You know him?”
“With my compliments,” I said, not really answering her question.
Chloe walked around the platter inspecting the cakes from all angles.
“May I try one?”
“With pleasure,” I said, picking one and handing it to her.
She gave me an odd look. “Do you not have plates?”
Win passed a small saucer to me from the glass cabinet. I placed the cake gently on it and handed it to Chloe.
She didn’t touch it. “And the cutlery, mademoiselle?” she said, giving Win a stern look.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw Luc roll his eyes. Win reached for the top drawer, brought out a fork and knife and placed them next to Chloe’s plate. Chloe’s mouth curled down at the corners. Katy jerked open the drawer again, searched for a matching pair and switched the pieces.
But Chloe wasn’t done. “What about a serviette?”
We stared at her.
“It’s a friggin’ cupcake,” Tetyana said, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to talk.
Chloe stared at Tetyana. She glared back, unblinking.
“Unlike in America,” Chloe said, pronouncing every syllable, her eyes firmly on Tetyana’s, “we prefer not to use our fingers to eat.”
Tetyana’s face went red. I wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been mistaken for an American or because she’d been dismissed so contemptuously. Maybe both. I saw her hand go to her side, the side where she kept her gun.
“Katy!” I yelled, jumping in front of Tetyana. “Get a serviette!”
Katy slammed open a drawer, pulled out a crisp white serviette and threw it next to the cake saucer. Chloe stared at us, eyebrows raised like we’d gone mad.
I smiled my best frozen smile at her. “Bon appétit, madame,” I said, with a low bow.
As we all stood around the counter and watched, Chloe daintily cut the cupcake with her gold cutlery and took a bite. She showed the most sophisticated table manners I’d ever seen. She seemed to eat with even more ceremony than the Diplomatic Dragon Lady herself.
“Does it meet your expectations?” I asked, once she’d had a bite.
She nodded. “Bon.”
Good? Just good?
Before I could say anything, she tapped her phone once. The door opened and in walked two men.
I felt Win move close and clutch my hand. I squeezed hers back.
With their black bow ties, red waistcoats and crisp white shirts, these men looked like a cross between palace guards and waiters in a five-star hotel. Their faces were as impassive as wax figures and their demeanor as impeccable as anyone who routinely served royalty. I watched as they glided across the floor and picked my cake tray up.
“You may take leave now,” Chloe said nodding to me. She turned to the two men. “To the drawing room, please.”
With that, she marched out. The men followed, carrying my cupcake tray high above their shoulders.
Chapter Forty-three
“Phew, I thought she was going to eat me,” Win said.
“Quelle pute pompeuse!” Luc said. “What a pompous woman.”
“How is that going to help us get to the Dragon Diplomat?” Tetyana asked.
I whipped off my apron, threw it on the counter, and stepped toward the door.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Katy asked.
“Find out where they’re going,” I said, opening the door.
I stepped out.
Chloe and the two men-in-waiting were walking past the staff table toward the other end of the kitchen.
Everyone in the main kitchen had stopped their work and was staring at the cake tray passing by. I caught sight of Monsieur Wilmar glaring from the meat station, the fat cleaver still in his hands. “Back to work!” he shouted at his team, startling me.
I closed the door behind me and started my walk across the hall, my back tingling, wondering if I was going
to feel that cleaver between my shoulder blades any moment.
Halfway through the hall, I heard a loud smash from behind. I turned to see Monsieur Wilmar thrash a piece of meat on the cutting board. He was hitting it so hard, I was surprised it hadn’t gone through the board. For all I knew, it had. Everyone had gathered as far away from him as possible.
In those few seconds of distraction, I’d lost sight of Chloe and the two servers. They’d vanished.
Where did they go?
I walked faster toward the end of the kitchen. There were two doors on the far wall. I opened the first only to find a set of bare concrete steps going down. That can’t be it. Chloe had said they were going up to the drawing room. I looked at the second door but it didn’t have a handle. I poked around, pushing and prodding until I noticed a modern panel of buttons next to the door frame. I punched a button and the doors slid open.
An elevator!
I looked behind me. No one was watching me anymore. The sous chefs were busy over their pots and pans. Monsieur Wilmar was inspecting something on the stove and the old men were engrossed in their card game. I stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut.
Where to now? There was only one floor up. I pressed the button. The elevator whirred up obediently.
When the doors opened, I was sure I’d traveled to another world.
I stood gaping until the elevator doors started to slide shut on me. I slammed my arm between them and jumped out.
I found myself standing in the ritziest foyer I’d ever seen.
My feet sank into the luxurious royal red carpet. Gold trimmings adorned the walls and beautiful motifs of flowers covered every inch of the ceiling. Wrought-iron chandeliers dripped down from above, and along the walls, red candles burned in copper candelabras, bathing the room in an opulent glow. I’d never seen anything like this before in my life. I turned around and around to soak it all in.
I couldn’t linger though.
There were three doorways from this foyer. I stood still for a minute and listened. A faint hum was coming from the doorway on the far right. I walked toward it. I could hear voices, soft voices. I stepped through, treading softly on the carpet, and came to another grand foyer with an immense doorway in front of me. Straddling this entranceway were two guardsmen dressed exactly like the two who’d come to get my cakes, moments earlier.
The Girl Who Made Them Pay Page 22
