Chapter 5 - The Locked Door
“Leo!”
Clara screamed his name toward the burning mansion.
Nobody answered.
Flames tore through the west windows.
Smoke poured across the roof.
Guests crowded the courtyard while security guards struggled to maintain order.
Richard pushed through them.
“Where is he?”
Clara grabbed Owen Bell.
“Did anyone bring Leo out?”
Owen’s face changed.
“I thought Ms. Sterling had him.”
Eleanor stepped forward.
“I never said that.”
Richard turned on her.
“You were upstairs with him.”
“I came down when the alarm sounded.”
“Without Leo?”
“The corridor was already full of smoke.”
Clara stared at her.
“You left him?”
Eleanor grabbed Clara’s wrist.
“Do not go back in there.”
Clara pulled away.
“The west corridor is collapsing,” Eleanor shouted.
Then from somewhere high inside the mansion came a scream.
“Clara!”
Clara ran.
She tore the shawl from around her shoulders and pressed it over her face.
Owen tried to stop her.
Richard shouted something.
She heard none of it clearly.
The front entrance was already filled with smoke.
Clara dropped low and moved through it.
Heat struck her skin.
The elegant foyer had become unrecognizable.
A chandelier had crashed across the marble floor.
Curtains burned along the walls.
She crawled toward the servants’ staircase because the main staircase was blocked.
Leo’s bedroom was on the third floor.
Each step became hotter.
At the second landing, part of the ceiling collapsed behind her.
Clara kept going.
“Leo!”
“Here!”
His voice came faintly through the smoke.
Clara reached the third-floor corridor.
Flames blocked the direct path.
She turned through the old nursery passage.
The temperature was unbearable.
Her eyes streamed.
Then she saw Leo’s door.
Closed.
She grabbed the handle.
Locked.
“Leo!”
“Clara!”
“Move away from the door.”
“I can’t.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
“My chair.”
“What happened?”
“The wheels are gone.”
Clara stared at the handle.
Locked from the outside.
She knew because Leo’s bedroom did not normally have an external key lock.
Someone had installed one.
She kicked the door.
Nothing.
Again.
Again.
Then she saw an antique fire axe mounted near the stairwell.
She smashed the glass.
Grabbed the axe.
Struck the door beside the lock.
Once.
Twice.
The wood split.
Smoke rolled through the opening.
Clara forced herself inside.
Leo was beside the bed.
His specialized chair had been tipped onto one side.
Both rear wheels were missing.
His braces lay across the room.
One strap had been cut.
A heavy dresser had been pushed in front of the secondary door.
This had not happened during the fire.
Someone had trapped him.
Clara stared at Leo.
He was crying silently.
“They left me.”
“We’re leaving now.”
She wrapped a blanket around him.
“I can’t carry you.”
“Yes, you can.”
Clara almost smiled.
“Then help me.”
She lifted him.
Leo was heavier than he had been when he was small.
But terror created strength.
She got him against her shoulder.
They moved toward the door.
A section of burning ceiling dropped into the hallway.
The route vanished.
Clara backed into the room.
“Window.”
The third-floor window overlooked a lower conservatory roof.
Too far.
Then Clara remembered the service dumbwaiter.
It ran behind the dressing room.
Mostly unused.
Too narrow for an adult.
But perhaps not for Leo.
She carried him inside the closet.
Smoke followed.
Clara ripped open the maintenance panel.
The dumbwaiter compartment sat behind it.
“Listen to me.”
Leo shook his head.
“No.”
“Leo.”
“You’re coming.”
“I will.”
“You’re lying.”
Clara grabbed his face gently.
“I am getting you out first.”
He cried harder.
“Please.”
“Arthur stayed forty hours.”
Leo stared at her.
“So I can manage five minutes.”
She placed him inside the dumbwaiter.
The old rope system was manual.
Clara began lowering him.
Her arms burned.
The pulley groaned.
“Clara!”
“I’m here.”
“Don’t leave.”
“I’m right here.”
The car descended.
Second floor.
First floor.
Then the rope caught.
Clara pulled.
Nothing.
Leo shouted below.
“It stopped.”
Clara looked at the flames approaching the closet.
She wrapped the rope around her arm and pulled with everything she had.
The mechanism released.
The car dropped several feet.
Leo screamed.
Then stopped.
“Leo?”
“I’m okay.”
Clara kept lowering.
Finally, the rope went slack.
He had reached the basement service level.
“Get out.”
“I can’t open it.”
Of course.
The dumbwaiter door latched from outside.
Clara swore under her breath.
She had moved him from one trap into another.
“I’m coming.”
“How?”
Clara looked around.
The main stairs were gone.
She crossed the bedroom toward the adjoining bathroom.
An old laundry chute ran to the basement.
Too narrow.
Then she saw the balcony.
The stone balcony connected to the neighboring suite.
Clara climbed onto the railing.
Below her, fire rolled through the courtyard-facing rooms.
She moved along the stone ledge.
One step.
Then another.
The next window was locked.
She smashed it with the axe.
Glass cut her forearm.
She barely noticed.
Inside, she found the secondary servant staircase.
She descended as quickly as she could.
At the basement level, smoke was thicker.
“Leo!”
“Here!”
She followed his voice.
The dumbwaiter door was ten feet away.
Then Clara saw something on the floor.
A red gasoline can.
She stopped.
The metal container lay beside the dumbwaiter shaft.
Its cap was missing.
Gasoline had been poured across the floor.
Someone had deliberately created a fire path toward the shaft.
Toward Leo.
Clara opened the dumbwaiter.
Leo fell into her arms.
“Can you crawl?”
“Yes.”
They stayed low.
She dragged him through the service tunnel toward the wine cellar exit.
Behind them, flames reached the gasoline trail.
Fire raced across the floor.
“Faster.”
Leo crawled using his arms.
Clara pushed from behind.
The tunnel began filling with smoke.
At the final steel door, she grabbed the handle.
Locked.
Her heart sank.
Then something slammed against it from the outside.
Again.
A voice shouted.
“Clara!”
Richard.
She screamed.
“Here!”
The door shook.
Owen and Richard were outside.
They struck it with a metal bar.
Once.
Twice.
The lock broke.
Cold night air rushed in.
Richard reached for Leo.
Clara pushed him forward.
Then she collapsed.
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on wet grass.
Paramedics surrounded her.
Leo was on a stretcher beside her.
An oxygen mask covered his face.
Richard stood nearby.
His coat was burned at one shoulder.
Eleanor was nowhere in sight.
Clara reached toward Leo.
He turned his head.
Their eyes met.
He lifted one trembling hand.
Clara squeezed it.
“You came back,” he whispered through the mask.
“Of course.”
Leo closed his eyes.
Then he opened them again.
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“She came into my room before the alarm.”
Clara’s chest tightened.
“Who?”
Leo’s fingers gripped hers.
“Aunt Eleanor.”
“What did she do?”
“She took my chair wheels.”
Clara stared.
“She told me Grandpa had decided I was going away.”
“To where?”
Leo started shaking.
“She said somewhere nobody would ever have to take care of me again.”
Richard heard him.
His face changed.
May you like
Then Leo said the words that would destroy what remained of the Sterling family.
“She locked the door.”
