Death in the Primrose Hotel – Chapter 3 cont’d…..

“Officer, please roll these drawings back up. Go back to the permits office. Make the clerks look for any additional drawings for this building and bring them back ASAP,” Tom Forsythe told a nearby uniform. The cop rolled up the drawings and hurried from the speakeasy.
The electrician had the high powered halogen lights turned on and pointed through the open entrance illuminating a brick lined tunnel. As far as we could see within the range of the lights, the tunnel had an arched brick ceiling, brick walls and floor. The brick courses were level and the joints were neatly struck. The brickwork looked as if it were built by skilled bricklayers who took pride in their work. The tunnel looked substantial and dry as it showed no signs of water leakage. The end of the tunnel was in the dark beyond the effect of the lights. I looked at the detective and he looked at me. We shrugged our shoulders simultaneously as if to say, ‘what the hell’ and stepped off into the tunnel. Each of us carried a hand held halogen torch tethered to a long heavy duty extension cord. The tunnel reminded me of pictures I had seen in a book once of the Sewers in Paris, France, except without the water and the sewage.
As I walked, I had the sensation of the floor running up a slight grade. About a hundred feet in, the tunnel took a forty-five degree turn to the right. Tom Forsythe’s radio squawked, “Stop.” We need to add another extension cord to each line.” Tom Forsythe’s lights went out then came back on almost instantly then my light went out and then back on.
Black is the absence of light. I once toured a cave where the docent turned off the pathway lights to show what absolute darkness was like. It was as if I were totally blind. I was totally blind. All I saw was black. I didn’t dare move an muscle. Frankly , I was very uncomfortable and I fought the urge to panic. Finally the docent turned on the lights. The sudden light that replaced the black temporarily blinded everyone of us. Our eyes sickly adjusted from the total darkness to the light. It was nice of the folks in the speakeasy to add one extension cord at a time and not leave us totally in the dark.
Tom Forsythe’s radio squawked again, “We’re sending for more extension cords. We’ll let you know when we’re about at the end of our cord. We won’t leave you in the dark.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

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