Chapter 6 - THE SERVICE GRIDS
The pitch black was absolute. The crash in the chimney had sent a massive cloud of soot and ash billowing into the living room, choking the air.
"Don't shoot!" Silas screamed over the chaos. "You'll hit me!"
In the darkness, a heavy hand grabbed Ruby’s wrist. She nearly screamed, but a large, calloused palm clamped over her mouth.
"Quiet," Valente’s voice breathed directly into her ear. He smelled of smoke and cedar.
He had shot out the chimney flue and killed the breaker box in the span of a single second.
Valente scooped Lily up into his other arm like she weighed nothing. He pulled Ruby low to the ground. "Follow the wall," he whispered.
Gunfire erupted, blinding yellow flashes strobing through the soot. The guards were firing blindly into the room, panicking. Wood splintered above Ruby’s head. She crawled fiercely, her knees scraping the hardwood floor, keeping her hand tethered to Valente’s coat.
They reached the kitchen. Valente pushed open a heavy pantry door. He reached down to the floorboards and hauled up a heavy iron ring. A trapdoor groaned open, revealing a rush of damp, freezing air.
"Down," Valente ordered.
Ruby climbed down a steep wooden ladder, Valente following instantly with Lily secured against his chest. He pulled the trapdoor shut, locking it from the inside just as the kitchen doors burst open above them.
They were in a tight, dirt-walled smuggling tunnel. Valente produced a small penlight from his pocket, clicking it on. The narrow beam illuminated ancient brickwork.
"They will find the door in less than a minute," Valente said, his breathing heavy. He touched his side, and Ruby saw the dark shine of blood soaking through his white dress shirt.
"You're shot," Ruby gasped.
"It's a graze," Valente lied smoothly. He looked at Ruby. "This tunnel leads to the old city service grids. The aqueducts from the nineteen-twenties. I know the entrance, but I don't know the layout once we get deeper."
Ruby stared at him, her mind flashing back to her childhood. Her father, smelling of oil and exhaust, unrolling massive blueprints on their kitchen table. He had been obsessed with the city’s forgotten infrastructure. He used to test her on it like it was a game.
If the cops block the north tunnel, Ruby-red, where does the water go?
It goes to the old steam grates under the railyard, Daddy.
"I know them," Ruby said, her voice suddenly ringing with an authority that surprised even her. "My dad made me memorize the blueprints. He said it was a survival game."
Valente looked at her, a profound respect settling over his harsh features. He handed her the penlight.
"Lead the way, Ruby."
For forty minutes, they navigated the labyrinth of dripping stone archways and rusted pipes. Ruby moved with desperate precision, taking left turns at junctions that looked identical, relying entirely on the faded memories of her father’s desperate paranoia.
Above them, the muffled sounds of the city grew louder. Trains rumbling over tracks.
"Stop," Ruby whispered, holding up a hand.
They stood beneath a massive iron grate. Rainwater poured down on them in steady sheets. Through the slats, they could see the neon signs of the downtown train station.
Valente pushed the grate up with his good arm. He climbed out, pulling Ruby and Lily up into a dark, abandoned alleyway adjacent to the station.
Lily was shivering violently, her lips blue.
"We need to get inside," Valente said, swaying slightly as blood loss began to take its toll. "The storage lockers are in the sub-basement."
They slipped through a service door. The station at 3:00 a.m. was eerily empty, echoing with automated announcements. They navigated the shadows, descending two flights of concrete stairs to a dimly lit corridor lined with rusting orange lockers.
Valente pulled the blue ticket from his pocket. "Number 402."
Ruby found it. She punched in the code stamped on the ticket. The heavy metal door clicked open.
Inside was a single, battered canvas duffel bag.
Valente pulled it out and unzipped it.
It wasn't filled with cash, or drugs, or weapons.
It was filled with thick, meticulously kept ledgers. And resting on top of the books was a small, ancient cassette tape recorder. A piece of masking tape on the recorder had a single word written in faded ink: INSURANCE.
Ruby reached out with a trembling hand and pressed the play button.
Static hissed through the tiny speaker. Then, a voice spoke.
Ruby let out a choked sob. It was her father.
"If anyone is listening to this," Michael Vance’s voice echoed in the concrete hallway, "it means Silas Carmine finally found me. I drove the car the night the old boss was murdered. Silas pulled the trigger. He killed his own father. He paid me ten thousand dollars to keep my mouth shut. But I kept these ledgers. They prove Silas has been laundering money for the Morettis since 1999."
The tape clicked, and Silas’s voice—younger, panicked, arrogant—filled the room. It was a secret recording.
"The old man was weak, Michael. I did what had to be done. You keep your mouth shut, you take the money, and we both walk away. If you ever say a word, I will cut your daughters' throats."
The tape ended in a burst of static.
Valente stared at the recorder. The absolute confirmation of his father’s murder at the hands of his own brother seemed to strip away the last remnants of his restraint.
Suddenly, a harsh electronic ringtone echoed from inside the canvas bag.
There was a cheap burner phone buried beneath the ledgers.
Valente slowly picked it up. He pressed answer and put it to his ear.
"Hello, brother," Silas’s voice purred through the speaker. "I assume you found the locker. But you left something behind at the restaurant before it exploded."
May you like
"Silas," Valente said, his voice dropping to a demonic whisper. "I am going to tear your heart out of your chest."
"Maybe," Silas laughed. "But right now, I'm standing in the alley behind Il Bastion. Chef Rossi and the lovely hostess didn't quite make it out in time. My men caught them. Bring me the ledgers, the tape, and the Vance girl. Or I will execute your beloved staff in the street."
