calling for extra help.
The library provides a million escapes, though; all of them neatly lined one after another. Will I go to a faraway galaxy where epic battles are being waged? Or should I slip back into time to watch a gallant knight defend his queen?
I settle for the latter and lay back on one of the leather sofas, pulling a nearby blanket over me. I think about asking George for a cup of tea, but I’m already getting lost in the story.
About halfway through the novel, several hours have passed and the knight is not so gallant and the queen turns out to be a real bitch. I close the book and look for another. There are so many choices, I feel overwhelmed.
Feeling restless, I go exploring instead.
The library leads to a separate room, a small parlor filled with antiques. The furniture appears so stately and old that it could have been snatched from a castle. Oil paintings of important, dignified people hang from the wall; a crystal chandelier dangles from the ceiling; a fresco, illustrating angels peeking around clouds, encircles the lighting.
There’s something about the room that doesn’t add up, yet I can’t quite figure it out. The room juts out from the main building with tall windows on three of the walls.
Nothing odd there.
Now I see what strikes me as so strange. There’s a door along one of the outer walls next to the hearth.
I glance out of the window beside it. The wall extends out for a few feet, allowing room for the chimney and wherever this door leads to. I suppose that makes sense. It must be a closet next to the fireplace. Positioning it there would allow for only one jut in the wall to be observed from the outside. Still, it’s a rather unusual place for a closet. Maybe it’s a typical Peruvian architectural style, though I can’t help from thinking there’s something here that I’m not seeing.
Only one way to find out.
I open the door.
It’s not a closet and there’s no floor. On the opposite side of this room or closet or whatever it is, there’s a ladder.
I peer over the edge and stare down.
Darkness.
I back away and tiptoe into to the library. I don’t see anyone, and it’s still early in the day. Diego will be gone for several more hours, at least. Nevertheless, I tell myself I should shut the door, go back to the library, and pick out a crummy paperback to lose myself in until Diego comes for me.
While that’s the safest move, I might be on to something. This hiding spot could very well be Diego’s drug or cash cache. There may be dead bodies, weapons, equipment used for processing the coca into powder, books full of names and addresses of close associates. There could be anything down there and every scenario I can think of ends with Diego behind bars.
I turn on the flash of my phone and shine it into the shaft. The ladder descends about twenty feet before it stops at a solid floor. There’s an opening to another room that’s under the parlor.
I take a breath and reach for the top rung of the ladder. It’s wooden so I don’t get any of those spooky, noisy sounds that might come from a metal one.
I slip down to the bottom in half a minute.
It’s dark and cold.
Aiming the flash of my phone around, I notice a light switch.
I flip it on.
What I see has me leaning against the wall. This isn’t a vault holding the secrets to Diego’s criminal enterprise.
I’ve stepped into an S&M dungeon. Coils of whips and floggers hang against the walls. A table is centered in the room with several straps to tie down the would-be prisoner. I don’t think this is a place to torture snitches and rivals. The sexual connotations contained in the room’s aesthetics allude to a far different purpose.
Killing the overhead light, I race up the ladder, close the door, and run into the library.
I grab the first book I find and sit down on the nearest sofa.
My hands are shaking, my face is hot, and I’m perspiring from
The library provides a million escapes, though; all of them neatly lined one after another. Will I go to a faraway galaxy where epic battles are being waged? Or should I slip back into time to watch a gallant knight defend his queen?
I settle for the latter and lay back on one of the leather sofas, pulling a nearby blanket over me. I think about asking George for a cup of tea, but I’m already getting lost in the story.
About halfway through the novel, several hours have passed and the knight is not so gallant and the queen turns out to be a real bitch. I close the book and look for another. There are so many choices, I feel overwhelmed.
Feeling restless, I go exploring instead.
The library leads to a separate room, a small parlor filled with antiques. The furniture appears so stately and old that it could have been snatched from a castle. Oil paintings of important, dignified people hang from the wall; a crystal chandelier dangles from the ceiling; a fresco, illustrating angels peeking around clouds, encircles the lighting.
There’s something about the room that doesn’t add up, yet I can’t quite figure it out. The room juts out from the main building with tall windows on three of the walls.
Nothing odd there.
Now I see what strikes me as so strange. There’s a door along one of the outer walls next to the hearth.
I glance out of the window beside it. The wall extends out for a few feet, allowing room for the chimney and wherever this door leads to. I suppose that makes sense. It must be a closet next to the fireplace. Positioning it there would allow for only one jut in the wall to be observed from the outside. Still, it’s a rather unusual place for a closet. Maybe it’s a typical Peruvian architectural style, though I can’t help from thinking there’s something here that I’m not seeing.
Only one way to find out.
I open the door.
It’s not a closet and there’s no floor. On the opposite side of this room or closet or whatever it is, there’s a ladder.
I peer over the edge and stare down.
Darkness.
I back away and tiptoe into to the library. I don’t see anyone, and it’s still early in the day. Diego will be gone for several more hours, at least. Nevertheless, I tell myself I should shut the door, go back to the library, and pick out a crummy paperback to lose myself in until Diego comes for me.
While that’s the safest move, I might be on to something. This hiding spot could very well be Diego’s drug or cash cache. There may be dead bodies, weapons, equipment used for processing the coca into powder, books full of names and addresses of close associates. There could be anything down there and every scenario I can think of ends with Diego behind bars.
I turn on the flash of my phone and shine it into the shaft. The ladder descends about twenty feet before it stops at a solid floor. There’s an opening to another room that’s under the parlor.
I take a breath and reach for the top rung of the ladder. It’s wooden so I don’t get any of those spooky, noisy sounds that might come from a metal one.
I slip down to the bottom in half a minute.
It’s dark and cold.
Aiming the flash of my phone around, I notice a light switch.
I flip it on.
What I see has me leaning against the wall. This isn’t a vault holding the secrets to Diego’s criminal enterprise.
I’ve stepped into an S&M dungeon. Coils of whips and floggers hang against the walls. A table is centered in the room with several straps to tie down the would-be prisoner. I don’t think this is a place to torture snitches and rivals. The sexual connotations contained in the room’s aesthetics allude to a far different purpose.
Killing the overhead light, I race up the ladder, close the door, and run into the library.
I grab the first book I find and sit down on the nearest sofa.
My hands are shaking, my face is hot, and I’m perspiring from
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