CHAPTER 20 ~ DETERMINED

Catherine collected several files to take home that evening. During the taxi ride, she thought of Vincent, wishing she could talk to him, tell him the progress she had made. Once inside her building, she went directly to the elevator, honestly grateful that there were no other passengers. When the doors closed, her finger hovered for a long moment over the button that would take her to the basement and access to the threshold and pipes. Then she swallowed the lump in her throat and the lingering fear that Vincent no longer wanted her company, and pressed the button for her floor.

* * *

As Vincent walked through the tunnels toward Catherine’s threshold, he sensed her longing and momentary indecision soon after reaching her building, followed by sadness and a touch of fear. She wanted to see him, but doubted he wanted to see her. He restrained his inner self, pushing to rush to her side and end her dread, with the knowledge that he would see her soon, but must be careful to remain unseen.

When he reached the entry, he found it difficult to wait for full dark to settle in before going to her balcony. He found himself prowling back and forth in the tunnel just beyond the opening to her subbasement, his inner self aggravated at the delay and restless to comfort her.

Finally deciding he had waited long enough, he carefully made his way through the lower levels of the building and called the elevator. He climbed through the access panel in the ceiling and rode the top high enough to access the roof undetected. He paused again, forcing his inner self to calm down and ensure safety before going down to her. Then he crept to the ledge, scanning the area for potential observers, and began his descent.

* * *

Once in her apartment, Catherine changed into comfortable clothes, ate a quick dinner, made a cup of coffee, and spread her notes and files out on her dining table. She turned on the radio to hear the news while she examined the information, reading, re-reading, crosschecking, jotting down notes, unsure if it was her coffee or the urgency over this case that kept her awake.

“As the city awaits the next attack of the subway slasher,” pronounced the radio reporter, “many New Yorkers are hailing him as a hero, the savior of the subways. According to the young woman who was rescued by him last night, the mysterious beast-like creature with claws, wearing a black cloak, appeared out of nowhere, slashed her assailant to death, critically wounding a transit policeman –”

“Catherine,” came Vincent’s hushed voice from her balcony. Had she imagined it?

She looked over at the sheer drapes that hung over the open doors of her balcony as the reporter continued, “– then escaped out the window of the moving train.” Putting down her pencil, she stood, turning toward the balcony for a moment, then walked to the door as the reporter concluded, “In a joint news conference, Police Chief Reardon and District Attorney Moreno confirmed they are following several leads, but declined to comment further. And now, more news from the metro station.”

Vincent stood waiting for her when she stepped onto her balcony. She moved close, looking up at him in grateful surprise.

“I thought I might never see you again,” she remarked softly.

“You have enough fear in your world,” he gently replied. “I could never bring you more.”

“Vincent,” she implored, taking his hands and holding them close to her heart, “forgive me for doubting you.”

“Catherine,” he soothed, “you were right to be afraid.” His inner self settled considerably at her ready touch, but craved her in his arms, a more demonstrable example of his care for her, and of their unbroken connection.

“My heart knows how gentle you are.”

“Even the gentlest man has a demon locked inside of him.”

“Not you. Not a demon.”

He sighed, pulling his hands away. It pleased his inner self that she took this perspective, but he did not agree with her, although he remained reluctant to prove her wrong. He changed the subject.

“We’ve seen your vigilante. He has a secret door from your subways to the older tunnels… the secret tunnels.”

“Vincent, if you can show me, I’ll go to the police, they’ll stake it out.”

He turned away from her, walking to the leading edge of the balcony, saying, “Catherine, there are a thousand miles of tunnels beneath this city, all of them connected. If the police find his door… they’ll search through all of them.” He looked out over the skyscape, hands resting atop the balustrade.

“Then, we’ll do it another way.” She followed him to the wall and looked up at him. “From above, not below. I promise you, Vincent, I won’t betray your world.”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, his eyes taking in the skyline and lights. Then he half-turned his head toward her.

“They hunt for this man as they might hunt for me, if they dreamed of my existence. You have your laws and your courts to tell right from wrong, your police to protect you – we have only ourselves.” He paused, contemplative. “By what right do I condemn him? Am I so very different?” Did she really believe that?

She put her hand on his arm, pulling him toward her until their eyes met, and left her hand where it was.

“Yes, Vincent. You are.”

He looked back out at the city for a long moment, then said, “Bring me a map.” He shifted a foot backward, leaning on his hands against the rail, head bowed.

Catherine went into her apartment to get a map.

* * *

Red scanned the front of Catherine’s building, finding her balcony high above. With no current activity there, he quickly entered the door near the fire escape, taking the stairs right inside to an upper floor allowing access to the ladder on a level just higher than her apartment. Then he climbed down the ladder, held on with one hand, and turned around. One foot on the ladder, the other on the framework, he pressed his leg and side against the scaffold, balancing there. Looking through his binoculars again, he scanned for her balcony. His jaw dropped open at what he saw.

The monster Jace talked about – face of an animal, clawed hands, black cloak – the mythological creature the street people spoke of in hushed tones, stood on her balcony. She came out of her apartment, joining it, approaching as if they were old friends. They put their heads together, looking at a large paper she had brought out. From the size and markings, he guessed it might be a map.

He pulled the binoculars down, squinting through the darkness, doubting what he had seen, then raised the binoculars again. Had his eyes tricked him? No, she still stood with the monster.

He watched them interacting for over twenty minutes. They talked. They looked at each other, faces inches apart. She smiled warmly at it. She reached out, touching its arm, apparently fondly. When it appeared the monster would be staying with her for a while, Red climbed back up the ladder. Jace needed to know about this turn of events.

Going down to the payphone on the corner, which he had told Suki about, he called her first, requesting an urgent pick-up, telling her he would let her know what this was about when he saw her. Then he called Jace.

“Walker,” he answered his phone.

“It’s Red. I have news you need to hear.”

“Go on.”

“I was watching Ms. Chandler. You’re not gonna believe this. That monster you’ve been talking about showed up on her balcony.”

“What?!”

“I didn’t see him arrive, but I watched them being very familiar for over twenty minutes. She knows this thing and appears to care about it. They stood very close together, talking and examining a large sheet of paper. If I had to speculate, from the size and markings I’d say it looked like a map to me. I have no idea what they could’ve been discussing.”

“Well, well, well. Ms. Chandler has been stringing us along. Did you call Suki?”

“She’s coming to get me. I thought you might want to discuss this in person. Does this change things?” He heard no response for a few seconds.

“It does. You and Suki come see me in the morning. I need to think about how to proceed from here.”

“You got it.”

Red hung up the receiver, leaning against the wall beside the phone to wait for Suki. She arrived several minutes later.

“What’s up?” she asked as he climbed in beside her.

“Wait ‘til you hear this.”

* * *

Catherine brought her map to Vincent, unfolding it and holding it up, so they could both see it. He leaned close, his head beside hers, grasping the bottom of the map and pointing to a section.

“This is the area of the vigilante’s secret door into the subways,” he said.

“And the tunnels? Where do the tunnels down there, beyond the secret door, go?”

“There is a corridor that runs in this direction,” he traced a path across the map, “to around here. It connects the basements of several buildings, some of which are no longer there, demolished or destroyed at various times in the past. Here it connects to the deeper tunnels. There’s another connection to the deep tunnels here, out of the subway line. One of our children, Lana, was in that area when she saw your vigilante use his door.”

“Is she all right?” she asked quickly, whipping her head around to look at him, concern etched on her face.

“He never saw her.” He turned his face toward hers. “She is safe and uninjured.”

“Oh, good.” She breathed a sigh of relief, holding his regard for a long moment, their faces inches apart. Then she swallowed hard, and her gaze flashed to his lips before they both looked back at the map.

He sensed the rapid shift in her emotions, including what she quickly stifled, but chose to ignore it. More difficult to ignore was the desire of his inner self to pursue that train of thought.

She studied the portion he had pointed out for several seconds, then said, “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. The Protectors headquarters is in an old building, here.” She let go of the map, pointing out the location along the tunnel corridor he had traced.

He took hold of the edge she released, keeping the map steady.

“Do you know if the building on this corner has an entrance into that passage?” she asked.

“It’s quite possible. Were they doing renovations recently? One of the structures along that row was having work done some months back. We told our community to avoid the area if possible and be extra careful if not.”

“They were. I was told quite a bit of work needed to be done to get the building ready for use.” She turned to face him. “Looks like I have a place to start. Thank you, Vincent. I’ll look into this first thing in the morning.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He relinquished the map, shifting to face her. “Please be careful, Catherine. Don’t underestimate this man. When he attacked the policeman, he showed he’ll attack anyone who tries to stop him.”

“I’ll be careful.” She folded the map, setting it on her patio table. “Are there any precautions you can take Below to keep the tunnels hidden if a search becomes necessary?”

“If you can give us warning, we can temporarily seal the tunnels connecting to that section. We’ll only leave the portion that connects his building to the subways.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

“Thank you, Catherine. For protecting us.”

She smiled warmly, saying, “I couldn’t do less, Vincent. You’re important to me. All of you are.”

He ducked his head a moment, smiling softly, then said, “I should probably go.”

She laid her hand on his arm, requesting, “No, not just yet. It’s still early. Stay a while. Talk with me. Please?”

“Is there anything in particular you wish to discuss?” He leaned his hip against the rail of her balcony.

“Anything but the case.” She sighed, copying his posture, facing him. “I need a break from that.” She reached out with the hand dangling by her side and grasped his hand.

He nodded, feeling his inner self ease some more.

They lost track of time, talking about music, books, poetry, art. When a breeze swept across the balcony, she shivered and stepped into him, leaning against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her.

“You should go in,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “It’s getting colder, and you need your rest.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She smiled serenely, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder.

He returned her embrace, resting his cheek against the top of her head, and felt her relax in his arms, as his inner self settled into contentment. They held each other for several minutes before he finally, reluctantly, pulled away.

“Good night, Catherine,” he murmured.

“Thank you for bringing me that information, Vincent.” She smiled softly, adding, “And thank you for staying to talk with me.”

When he smiled gently in return and nodded, she picked up the map on the way to her apartment door, then stopped, turning back to him.

“Good night, Vincent.” With a final grateful smile, she went inside.

He left as silently as always.