Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Forty-Seven
There was only one way out now. The inspiration had come to me
while I’d balanced precariously on Flo’s shoulders and battered at the window.
“We’ll have to break down the wall,” I said.
Flo and Miss Lee looked at me as if I’d lost my marbles.
“The wall?” said Flo. “I don’t think that’s possible. Wouldn’t it
be more practical to try and break the door down?”
I went to the door and felt it.
“It’s already hot,” I said. “They must have started the fire on
the second story. Even if we could break down the door, we’d be immediately
engulfed by flames. We might be able to break through this wall, however.”
I tapped the wall speculatively.
“Old Mansion and this building are both wood construction,” I
continued. “If I’m judging the distance correctly, the upstairs bath in Old
Mansion is just beyond this partition.”
“I suppose anything is worth trying, at this point,” said Flo.
“But we can hardly break down lathe and plaster with our bare hands.”
I’d thought of that myself.
“That!” I said and pointed to a small chimneyless Victorian parlor
stove in the corner. It was cast iron, with a pointed chrome ornamental piece
attached to the top. I walked over and touched it. It was cool.
“That’s too heavy,” said Flo. “You’ll never be able to lift it.”
“No,” I said. “But all three of us can.”
We gave it a try, Miss Lee and I in the front, and Flo holding
onto the bottom. We swung it like a battering ram, the pointed ornamental piece
making contact with the wall first. Our first attempt was very disappointing.
We only managed to break off the ornamental piece and barely made a dent in the
plaster.
“Again,” I said. “Let’s take a run at it this time.”
The room was too small to get much of a run at it, but even a few
feet made all the difference. This time we broke a small hole through the first
layer of lathe and plaster.
“Again!” I cried.
On our ninth try, we saw a bit of light from the other side. The
hole was far too small still to get through, but success spurred us on.
“Everyone yell,” said Flo. “Every time, just before we hit the
wall, shout ‘Help!’”
I didn’t think anyone who hadn’t already been alerted to the fact
that someone was breaking through the wall would notice a bit of yelling, but I
followed Flo’s lead anyway.
The hole was getting bigger, bit by bit, but so were the wisps of
smoke leaking in around the door frame.
From the street below, I heard the bell on the hook and ladder
truck. The volunteer fire brigade had arrived. Some passerby must have seen
smoke and sounded the alarm.
“Should we try yelling out the window again?” suggested Miss Lee.
“No time,” I said. “Besides, we’ve almost broken through.”
It took three more rams before we finally had a hole big enough to
crawl through.
Flo went through first, and Miss Lee coaxed her injured father
into crawling to the opening. He was badly hurt, but we had no option of
leaving him behind. I feared we had only a few minutes before the flames burned
through the stout wooden door and the room we’d been imprisoned in was
engulfed.
We’d broken through the wall directly above the bathtub in the upstairs bath.
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