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

Tom Forsythe heard a chuckle from the other side of the conversation, then said, “Thanks.”
Once our lights were reconnected we continued. We took the forty-five degree right turn and after an additional hundred feet the tunnel made yet another forty-five degree right turn. We walked further until the radio informed we were at the end of the second cord and that the extra extension cords had not arrived yet. Tom Forsythe and I stood around twiddling our thumbs. Ten minutes later we went through the lights off and on again for each light for a second time as the electricians added the third extension cord. The radio squawked again and told us we were good to go.
We continued on until we faced a brick wall. Tom Forsythe did a slow three-sixty with his halogen lamp in his hand scanning the tunnel. We had not seen any breaks in the walls that would indicate an opening of some sort along the tunnel except the speakeasy and whatever this wall was in front to us.
“I wonder where we are?” Tom Forsythe asked.
“If you don’t know, how should I know,” I said. My claustrophobia raising to the surface. I get twitchy when I’m in a physically tight space.
Tom Forsythe miked his radio. A loud screech emanated from the speaker catching me by surprise. He adjusted the squelch knob. “Yes sir?” Came the voice.
“Do you have a GPS position on us?” Tom Forsythe asked.
“Yes sir.”
“Where the hell are we?” Tom Forsythe asked.
“You’re near the old dress shop,” said the voice.
“What old dress shop?” Tom asked.
“The one on the square at the northwest corner of North and East Streets,” said the voice.
“Find out who owns the building and get us permission to enter it,” Tom Forsythe said. “And be damn quick about it.” We stood around waiting for a response.
Ten minutes later the blast of static announced the imminent arrival of the voice.
“Sir, the town took over the property for unpaid taxes about ten years ago,” the voice said.

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