Chapter 6 - Fire at Saint Agnes
For half a second after the gunshot, Nora believed she had been hit.
She felt pressure.
Heat.
A body crashing against hers.
Then the emergency lights flickered red.
The man who had been holding the gun collapsed at her feet.
Malcolm stood across the room with both hands wrapped around the fallen man’s wrist.
The shot had gone into the ceiling.
“Run!” Malcolm shouted.
Chaos erupted.
Tessa threw herself sideways with the chair, knocking another man off balance.
Nora lunged toward her.
Outside the room, someone shouted.
Glass shattered.
Then Gabriel appeared through the doorway with two other men.
“Down!”
Nora dropped.
Elias came behind him.
Their eyes met across the room.
The relief on his face lasted less than a second.
Then Vincent raised a gun.
“Elias.”
Everyone froze.
Vincent aimed at Nora.
Elias stopped immediately.
“Let her go.”
Vincent laughed.
“You sound like your father.”
“That used to be an insult when you said it.”
Vincent’s expression turned cold.
“Your father was weak.”
“My father died because he discovered you were a coward.”
Nora saw the reaction.
Tiny.
But real.
Elias had found the wound.
He continued.
“You never built anything, Vincent. You inherited routes other men created, money other men stole, fear other men earned.”
“Elias,” Gabriel warned.
But Elias was looking only at his uncle.
“You spent your whole life calling yourself powerful because everyone around you was too afraid to tell you that you were just Vittorio’s jealous little brother.”
Vincent fired.
Elias moved.
The shot struck brick.
Gabriel returned fire.
The room exploded into motion.
Nora dragged Tessa behind the old boiler.
Malcolm tackled Vincent.
The two older men crashed into a table.
The ledger fell.
A kerosene lamp toppled with it.
Glass shattered.
Flame rolled across the dusty floor.
“No!” Nora shouted.
Fire caught old insulation.
Then timber.
Thirty-eight years after men had tried to burn Saint Agnes to erase the truth, the building began burning again.
Smoke climbed instantly.
Gabriel grabbed Vincent’s gun.
Malcolm rolled away, bleeding from his shoulder.
Elias reached Nora.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He touched her face, her shoulders, as if refusing to trust the answer.
“Nora.”
“I’m okay.”
Then she saw his side.
Blood.
“You’re not.”
“Graze.”
“You’ve been shot.”
“Technically.”
She stared at him.
“If we survive this, I’m going to kill you.”
“Good.”
Another beam caught fire.
Tessa was still tied.
Nora pulled at the ropes.
“I need a knife.”
Gabriel tossed one.
She cut Tessa free.
Tessa ripped the tape from her mouth.
“I am never setting you up on a blind date again.”
Nora laughed despite herself.
“Fair.”
Smoke thickened.
A fire alarm finally screamed through the upper floors.
Gabriel hauled Malcolm upright.
“We need out.”
Nora looked for Vincent.
He was gone.
“Where is he?”
Elias turned.
A side door hung open.
The tunnel.
Vincent had escaped into the old freight passage beneath the building.
And he still had the brass key.
Nora cursed.
“Forget him,” Elias said.
“He has the key.”
“We have copies of the ledger.”
“The bank box has the original deed and your father’s statement.”
“It isn’t worth dying for.”
“It proves what happened to my mother.”
Elias’s expression changed.
“I know.”
“Then you know I’m not leaving it with him.”
She moved toward the tunnel.
Elias caught her arm.
“Nora.”
“I spent twelve years thinking my mother died because it rained.”
His grip loosened.
“I need that evidence.”
For one second they stood in smoke and red emergency light staring at each other.
Then Elias swore.
“Gabriel! Get everyone out.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Elias—”
“That’s an order.”
Nora and Elias entered the tunnel.
Behind them, Gabriel shouted something deeply uncomplimentary about blind dates.
The tunnel descended beneath Saint Agnes.
Old brick walls sweated moisture.
Nora could hear Vincent’s cane striking the stone ahead.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
“He can’t move fast,” she whispered.
“He knows these tunnels better than we do.”
“How?”
“He used them for twenty years.”
The air became colder.
Behind them, smoke curled down the passage.
They reached a junction.
Three tunnels.
No Vincent.
Nora crouched.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking.”
“For?”
“Restoration plans.”
“This is a tunnel.”
“Exactly.”
She touched the floor.
Fresh mud crossed the center passage.
Cane marks.
“There.”
They followed.
The passage emerged into an old warehouse foundation beneath the neighboring block.
Vincent stood beside an iron door.
He was trying to unlock it with a ring of keys.
He turned.
“You should have let the girl burn, Elias.”
Elias stepped forward.
“You should have left Boston when I gave you the chance.”
Vincent laughed.
“You thought selling my warehouses forced me out?”
“I froze your accounts.”
“I have money you never found.”
“Not after tonight.”
Something in Elias’s tone changed Vincent’s expression.
“What did you do?”
“I sent the ledger to the FBI.”
Nora looked at Elias.
“When?”
“Before I entered Saint Agnes.”
Vincent went still.
“The ledger is meaningless without corroboration.”
“Then I suppose you shouldn’t have spent twenty minutes confessing to Nora while Gabriel recorded you through the tracker microphone.”
Nora blinked.
“The tracker had a microphone?”
Elias looked at her.
“Two, actually.”
Despite the smoke, despite the blood on his shirt, despite everything—
Nora laughed.
Vincent did not.
“You think this ends because law enforcement heard a conversation?”
“No.”
Elias stepped closer.
“It ends because Malcolm has already agreed to testify.”
Vincent’s face changed.
“No.”
From the tunnel behind them came Malcolm’s voice.
“Yes.”
He leaned against Gabriel for support.
Detective Ortiz stood beside them with her weapon raised.
Behind her were two federal agents.
Nora exhaled.
Vincent looked around.
For the first time, he appeared old.
Not powerful.
Not legendary.
Just old.
Cornered.
He pulled the brass key from his pocket.
Then smiled at Nora.
“You want this?”
She stared.
He threw it toward a drainage opening.
Nora lunged.
Her fingers caught the key inches before it disappeared into black water.
At that same moment Vincent drew a small pistol from inside his coat.
Elias moved in front of Nora.
The gunshot thundered through the tunnel.
Vincent staggered.
Detective Ortiz had fired first.
His weapon clattered to the ground.
Federal agents rushed forward.
Nora turned to Elias.
He was standing.
Then his knees buckled.
She caught him.
“Elias?”
He looked confused.
Blood spread across the front of his shirt.
Not the graze.
A new wound.
“No.”
“Nora.”
“No, no, no.”
She pressed both hands against his chest.
“Stay with me.”
He tried to speak.
“Do not make a joke.”
His mouth moved.
“You were going to kill me anyway.”
Tears blurred her vision.
“Elias!”
Gabriel dropped beside them.
“Ambulance is coming.”
Smoke rolled deeper into the tunnel.
Above them, part of Saint Agnes collapsed with a roar.
Nora held Elias’s face between her hands.
“Look at me.”
His eyelids fluttered.
“Elias, look at me.”
He did.
She leaned close.
“We haven’t finished our date.”
A faint smile.
“That restaurant has terrible service.”
Then his eyes closed.
“Elias?”
Nothing.
Nora slapped his cheek.
“Elias.”
Gabriel put two fingers against his neck.
His expression changed.
“Nora.”
“No.”
Gabriel looked toward the paramedics racing down the tunnel.
“Move!”
Nora refused to release Elias until three people physically pulled her away.
May you like
The last thing she saw before the paramedics carried him into the smoke was his hand hanging motionless beside the stretcher.
And suddenly all the evidence in Boston meant nothing.
