Chapter 7 - THE SECRET CELLAR
Arthur pushed past the lead officer, moving toward the sound like a man possessed.
"Moretti! Fall back!" Miller hissed, but Arthur ignored him, navigating the dark stone maze of the cellar guided solely by the tragic, lingering piano notes echoing off the damp walls.
He reached a heavy, reinforced wooden door at the end of a narrow corridor. Light flickered through a tiny, bar-covered window near the top of the door.
Arthur looked through the bars.
Inside a spacious, stone-walled room illuminated by a single hanging bulb sat a man. He had long, matted silver-gray hair falling past his shoulders, a ragged beard, and wore a faded brown sweater. His hands—thin, trembling, and covered in scars—were hovering over the keys of a dusty upright piano.
Beside him, lying on a narrow iron cot covered in thick wool blankets, was a young woman in her late twenties. She was pale, breathing weakly, her face glistening with fever.
"Clara..." the trapped man whispered, stopping his playing to reach out and smooth his daughter's damp hair. "Stay awake, my sweet girl. Listen to the song. Your little Lily is safe... I know she is..."
"Julian?" Arthur’s voice cracked through the small barred window.
The man at the piano froze. Slowly, agonizingly, he turned his head toward the door. His eyes were deep-set, hollowed by twelve years of darkness, but filled with a fierce, intelligent light.
"Who... who is there?" Julian Vance stammered, his voice raspy from disuse. "Is that... Marcus?"
"No, Julian!" Arthur shouted, motioning frantically for the police officers who had just caught up to him. "Break this door down! Now!"
An officer stepped forward with a heavy battering ram, slamming it into the heavy lock mechanism. BOOM! The wood splintered. BOOM! The heavy iron latch shattered, and the door swung open with a bang.
Arthur rushed into the room, dropping to his knees beside the piano. "Julian! My name is Arthur Pendelton! Your mother, Eleanor... she sent us!"
Julian stared at Arthur in complete, utter disbelief. Tears slowly welled up in his sunken eyes, spilling down into his gray beard. "My... my mother? Eleanor is alive?"
"She's alive! She's in Seattle!" Arthur blurted out, his eyes shining with emotion. "And your granddaughter, Lily... she interrupted my concert tonight! She sang your lullaby in front of two thousand people! Your mother heard it!"
Julian let out a sharp, ragged sob, burying his face in his scarred hands, his shoulders heaving uncontrollably. "She sang it... my little bird sang it..."
"Hands where I can see them!" a harsh voice suddenly roared from the corridor behind them.
Arthur turned instantly.
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Standing in the doorway, holding a heavy tactical handgun, was Marcus Kane. He was dressed in an expensive rain coat, his face twisted into a grotesque mask of rage and desperation.
"You shouldn't have come here, Pendelton," Marcus hissed, racking the slide of his gun.
