Read Online JET - Escape: (Volume 9) by Russell Blake - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Russell Blake
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not more so.”
She pulled on a green plastic apron and cinched it around her waist, and then held up a pair of cables with stripped copper wire ends. “The Inquisition didn’t have the benefit of electricity. If it had, it could have dispensed with many of its tricks and gone straight to judicious application of voltage to sensitive areas of the body. I can assure you that it exceeds the worst you might experience with the old-school approaches. But don’t take my word for it. You’re about to discover firsthand that technology has made marvelous strides since the days of Torquemada.”
Franco closed his eyes, realization dawning on him that this wasn’t an act to frighten him into divulging what he knew.
An hour later Fernanda removed the apron and tossed it on the cement floor. Ramón stood by the door, his complexion ashen and his eyes averted. She noted Franco’s slumped form and moved to the toolbox, where she withdrew a hand towel and cleaned her face before slipping off the gloves and dropping them onto the crate beside it.
“Your people will dispose of this?” she asked, nodding at Franco.
“Of course. His passing will be described by the coroner as the result of heart failure. Natural causes.”
“Then let’s go. We’re already two days behind. Call Viega and arrange for us to have access to the area of the monastery where the tunnel starts. I want to be there in ten minutes.”
“Will do.”
“Do you know anything about the river he described?”
“Not really. But we’ll be able to track it on my phone.” He seemed to want to say something more, but instead dialed Viega and held the cell to his ear.
After a brief discussion, Ramón terminated the call and turned to her. “He’ll arrange it. We’re to be at the cable car station as soon as possible.”
“He understands his men are not to touch the area?”
“I made it abundantly clear.”
She took a final look at the dead monk and nodded. “At least now we’re getting somewhere. We may be too late, but at least we’re in the game again. We should have done this yesterday.”
Ramón followed her stare to where Franco sat. “There’s no question in your mind that he told you everything?”
“None at all. Nobody can withstand that kind of abuse and lie successfully.” She pushed past him to the door and slid the bolt open. “Nobody.”
When they arrived at the monastery, Viega was waiting for them at the upper cable-car station. Only a few cops were in evidence, all spectacularly disinterested in the new arrivals. Viega glanced at Fernanda as they walked toward the darkened building, the flashlight she’d brought swinging easily in her hand.
“I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing any more of the good father?” he asked.
“You have nothing to worry about. We’ll handle the autopsy and quash any inquiry. You’re effectively above suspicion,” Ramón said.
“Well, turns out he was holding out on us, so your methods worked,” Viega conceded.
They moved into the monastery’s storage chamber, located the hidden access lever on the cabinet, and swung it open. Viega peered inside and retrieved his own penlight from his jacket pocket as Fernanda switched hers on. She took three steps into the passage and turned to Viega. “This is as far as you go, for now.”
Viega looked insulted, but held his tongue. Ramón tilted his head in apology and followed Fernanda into the dank entry. They followed the sloping tunnel floor to the remains of the iron grid and were soon standing on the riverbank, moonlight silvering the rushing water. Ramón pointed downstream at the collection of wooden rowboats on the bank.
Fernanda nodded. “Looks like we’ve found their route. Fifty-to-one that they went downstream in one of those boats. Check with the local cops – there will be a boat missing. What’s south of here?”
Ramón tapped his cell phone screen to life and studied a small map. “A few small bergs. The next real town is
She pulled on a green plastic apron and cinched it around her waist, and then held up a pair of cables with stripped copper wire ends. “The Inquisition didn’t have the benefit of electricity. If it had, it could have dispensed with many of its tricks and gone straight to judicious application of voltage to sensitive areas of the body. I can assure you that it exceeds the worst you might experience with the old-school approaches. But don’t take my word for it. You’re about to discover firsthand that technology has made marvelous strides since the days of Torquemada.”
Franco closed his eyes, realization dawning on him that this wasn’t an act to frighten him into divulging what he knew.
An hour later Fernanda removed the apron and tossed it on the cement floor. Ramón stood by the door, his complexion ashen and his eyes averted. She noted Franco’s slumped form and moved to the toolbox, where she withdrew a hand towel and cleaned her face before slipping off the gloves and dropping them onto the crate beside it.
“Your people will dispose of this?” she asked, nodding at Franco.
“Of course. His passing will be described by the coroner as the result of heart failure. Natural causes.”
“Then let’s go. We’re already two days behind. Call Viega and arrange for us to have access to the area of the monastery where the tunnel starts. I want to be there in ten minutes.”
“Will do.”
“Do you know anything about the river he described?”
“Not really. But we’ll be able to track it on my phone.” He seemed to want to say something more, but instead dialed Viega and held the cell to his ear.
After a brief discussion, Ramón terminated the call and turned to her. “He’ll arrange it. We’re to be at the cable car station as soon as possible.”
“He understands his men are not to touch the area?”
“I made it abundantly clear.”
She took a final look at the dead monk and nodded. “At least now we’re getting somewhere. We may be too late, but at least we’re in the game again. We should have done this yesterday.”
Ramón followed her stare to where Franco sat. “There’s no question in your mind that he told you everything?”
“None at all. Nobody can withstand that kind of abuse and lie successfully.” She pushed past him to the door and slid the bolt open. “Nobody.”
When they arrived at the monastery, Viega was waiting for them at the upper cable-car station. Only a few cops were in evidence, all spectacularly disinterested in the new arrivals. Viega glanced at Fernanda as they walked toward the darkened building, the flashlight she’d brought swinging easily in her hand.
“I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing any more of the good father?” he asked.
“You have nothing to worry about. We’ll handle the autopsy and quash any inquiry. You’re effectively above suspicion,” Ramón said.
“Well, turns out he was holding out on us, so your methods worked,” Viega conceded.
They moved into the monastery’s storage chamber, located the hidden access lever on the cabinet, and swung it open. Viega peered inside and retrieved his own penlight from his jacket pocket as Fernanda switched hers on. She took three steps into the passage and turned to Viega. “This is as far as you go, for now.”
Viega looked insulted, but held his tongue. Ramón tilted his head in apology and followed Fernanda into the dank entry. They followed the sloping tunnel floor to the remains of the iron grid and were soon standing on the riverbank, moonlight silvering the rushing water. Ramón pointed downstream at the collection of wooden rowboats on the bank.
Fernanda nodded. “Looks like we’ve found their route. Fifty-to-one that they went downstream in one of those boats. Check with the local cops – there will be a boat missing. What’s south of here?”
Ramón tapped his cell phone screen to life and studied a small map. “A few small bergs. The next real town is
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