Page 72 of Holmes Is Missing
The corridor at the bottom led to a single door, partway open. A portable generator sat idle in the corridor outside. A SWAT officer kicked open the door and stepped through. He clicked on his flashlight.
“Holy shit!” he called out.
Poe rushed to the entrance, bumping shoulders with the cop. The flashlight raked the room with a wide, bright beam. The space was huge, with its stone floor swept clean. Filling one side of the room was a large curve of blue seamless paper. In front of it was a wooden chair and a table covered in thick padding. Mounted on stands on either side were banks of lights, with cords dangling. A few portable fans sat in the corners. In the center of the room, a sturdy tripod held a top-of-the-line Canon video camera.
“Porn set?” muttered one of the cops.
“Online auction house,” said Poe.
“We’re too late,” said Holmes, sniffing the air tentatively. “There hasn’t been anyone here for hours. The kids are gone. Sold and shipped off. Just like Megan said.”
Two cops moved in with emergency scene lights. They switched them on, flooding every corner of the room. Duff stepped through the door and did a slow 360.
“What in the name of God…?”
Holmes took a few steps deeper into the space. Took in a few more breaths. “Sodium polyacrylate,” he mumbled. “And ammonia.”
“Baby diapers,” said Marple.
In the fresh glare, Poe noticed a row of black equipment cases against the back wall. They were professional grade, with rounded metal edge guards and heavy-duty handles.
Poe reached into his pocket and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He walked to the wall and stood over the cases. Some were battered and worn from use. Others looked brand-new.
He bent down and flicked the latch on the first case in the row. He lifted the lid.
Inside was a tangle of cords and adapters. He moved to the next case, filled with heavy-duty black cables. The third box looked like a camera case, big enough to hold the Canon and a few backup batteries. Probably a set of extra lenses too.
Poe flicked the latch and opened the lid. The interior was cavernous and lined in maroon-colored velvet. Poe bent low, one hand braced against the side of the open case. He reached down, then recoiled, gasping.
He looked down again. Just to be sure.
Nestled in the fabric at the bottom of the case was a tiny baby, barely a week old.
Eyes open. Still warm. Dead.
CHAPTER77
AS POE STOODover the case, heart thumping, Holmes and Marple crowded in beside him. Marple looked down, then quickly turned to face the opposite wall. Holmes dropped to his knees and started to reach gently into the case. Suddenly, Duff was behind him, roughly yanking him away by the shoulder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted. “Back the hell off!”
Holmes stood as Duff looked down into the case. “Jesus Christ!” The captain spun on his heels and clenched his fists. He lowered his head for a few seconds, then looked up and locked eyes with the nearest cop. “Call the ME.”
Poe looked up. Suddenly, a row of bricks near the top of the foundation began to shake loose. Dirt spilled from cracks in the mortar. There was a loud roar and vibration from outside, behind the wall.
Poe and Holmes raced out of the room and up the stairs, beating the heavily armored cops to an open doorframe at the rear of the structure. A large box truck roared past, banging into low-hanging limbs as it barreled toward the near end of the policeperimeter. Two SWAT officers burst through the doorway right behind Poe, rifles aimed toward the fleeing truck.
“No!” shouted Holmes, knocking one of the gun barrels aside. “There might be kids in there!”
Poe watched, eyes wide. The truck swerved through a gap between two NYPD vehicles, scraping a deep furrow in the side of an SUV. Poe grabbed Holmes by the sleeve and yanked him forward. “Let’s go!”
As police radios crackled, Poe and Holmes broke into a dead run, shrugging off their heavy vests. They split up to pass on either side of the creased police vehicle and ended up together behind a SWAT transport. The front end of the Charger was already pointed toward the street.
Poe slid into the driver’s seat. Holmes jumped in from the other side.
“What about Margaret?” asked Holmes.
“No time! We’ll catch up later!”
A half dozen police vehicles were already revving up and pulling out in pursuit. But Poe put the Dodge in low gear and muscled his way toward the front of the pack along the dirt path leading out of the compound. Once his tires gripped hard pavement, he shot out ahead. The truck was already out of sight around a turn.