Terror On Tour Chapter 12 FINAL CHAPTER!

Terror On Tour

Chapter 12

Suddenly a shrill shriek filled the air. The fire alarm. I was trapped in the office. Smoke billowed out from the desk, the first most likely started by remote by Darius. He had been planning to torch the TopFlight offices to add to the troubles plaguing the company. By locking me up in here he was in effect killing two birds with one stone.

But I was no bird and I didn’t plan on dying anytime soon. I had to get out of here—and now! The firemen would be along eventually, but I would be long dead from smoke inhalation before they arrived. Smoke quickly filled the room. I tried the door and it was of course locked, but a moment later I heard a click and tried the door again. It was now unlocked. How did that happen? I must have had a guardian angel.

I didn’t have time to worry about that, I went out into the hallway where the shrieking alarm was even louder. With my hands tied behind my back I headed to the elevator. It was not working, most likely because of the fire alarm. A small sign beside the buttons confirmed my theory. Another note on the same sign noted that all door locks would be disengaged during a fire alarm as well.

So that was why the office door unlocked. Darius must not have known about this little safety feature. Darn.

I headed to the stairwell, smoke billowing into the corridor now and headed my way. I pushed open the door with my foot and hurried down the stairs. We had been on the 6^th floor so it wasn’t a long descent. I burst out of the stairwell into the lobby and saw that the fire trucks had just arrived.

Firemen were milling around and heading to the stairwell to check on the fire. One of the firemen saw me and saw that my hands were tied up. He came over to me and asked if I needed help.

I nodded and he proceeded to remove the twine. The fire was deliberately set, I remarked. I need the police here. The person responsible is getting away and he had a friend of mine with him.

The fireman looked confused but called the police on his small radio. He sent me out to the parking lot where a crowd of people—the people from the record company party, were gathered. An ambulance stood close by in case anyone was injured. I was checked over by the paramedics who released me—I was fine. Soon the police arrived as well and I gave my statement—again. it seemed I was doing that a lot. An alert was put out on Darius Waldman and Seth Teller. They hadn’t counted on my getting out of the office—well, at all, but by sheer luck I had made it out unscathed.

Still, I needed to find Darius and Seth—they had Dylan.

Excusez moi, monsieur, the policeman said a few moments later. Venez-ici, s’il vous plait. Come here please.

 I followed him to the front of the building where paramedics were surrounded a prone figure. Dylan!

That’s my friend, I exclaimed. Is he—ok?

The policeman nodded. Oui, monsieur. We just needed a positive ID.

Dylan was sitting up. He broke into a wide smile when he saw me. Justin! He exclaimed. You’re OK?

Yeah, I muttered.

I thought—you were up there, he said pointing to where smoke was still billowing out of a sixth floor window.

I was, I muttered. Seth and Darius. Any idea—?

Dylan shook his head. Wait! He exclaimed, looking up at me. They were talking. They dragged me here, he said, looking down at his now bare feet which were bloody around the heels where he had been dragged.

Ouch! I said.

Yeah, he replied. It’ll be OK, I don’t need my feet to play guitar.

You overheard something? I urged. The policeman was standing beside me.

You know where the two men have gone, the policeman asked.

They said something about rigging something up. Something to do with our equipment. Back at the hotel?

Or the theatre. I said. Your concert is later tonight, I said glancing at my watch. It was now 2 am.

Right, Dylan said. That makes more sense. They said they had to do it now, then they were going to leave the country. They were hoping the fire would be the last straw and the damages would ruin TopFlight. By finding a body in the room where the fire started would not look good on the company either.

Yeah, my body, I said ruefully. I turned to the police officer. I explained about the band and their troubles since arriving in Europe, and also about their concert at Odeon Theatre later that night.

The policeman whose badge read “Simone” spoke into his radio in rapid French, then turned to us. We are heading there now. There has been a report of suspicious activity at the Odeon theatre in the last few minutes, he added. This is likely your friends, he added. Would you be able to accompany us to make a positive ID?

Dylan got to his feet and put back on his socks then his shoes—very carefully. Let’s go get those jerks, he muttered, finally. I nodded and we followed the policeman to his car, Dylan limping on his sore feet.

The drive to the Odeon was short as traffic was not too bad at 2 am, but there were still lots of activity on the streets. Paris apparently, like most large cities, did not sleep.

Two other police cars were there, at the front entrance to the theatre. Officer Simone went to speak to the others and returned. The two men we are looking for are around the back of the theatre. They have not yet broken in to the theatre. A security guard noticed them a while ago hanging around outside. I do not know what they are waiting for.

Suddenly a shrill alarm filled the air and the police sprang into action. Within minutes they had apprehended Darius and Seth. As they were lead to the car they glanced over and were surprised to see us.

You? Teller muttered, looking at me. How did you escape?

I ignored him and turned to Darius. Next time you lock someone in an office and set a fire to try and kill them, you should read the fire alarm specs. The doors automatically unlocked when the fire alarm went off. So, it looks like you were just—well, dumb.

Yeah, thankfully, Dylan said, glaring at the duo who were now being put into the police cars. Darius hadn’t commented on my or Dylan’s comment. He knew he was caught. What could he do?

But Seth had plenty to say—later at the police station. He spilled his guts about everything—the cancelled flight, then the cancelled reservations at the hotel, which Darius had orchestrated.

Seth had taken care of kidnapping Nate and Sam back in Port Salser once he found out about our flight on Dad’s client’s plane. Seems Billy Bob Morrow had been at Billy Burger and had overheard our plans to make that flight. Seth panicked and waylaid Nate and Sam hoping we would miss our flight. When we proceeded, he contacted Darius in London who promptly cancelled the hotel reservations.

Dylan and I were seated in a conference room at the station. Corey and Teresa had been called at the hotel and were with us now. Van was still in a deep slumber so was still back at the hotel. He would be sorry he missed this little get together.

We couldn’t sleep, Corey said. We were up and saw that you guys were gone and were frantic that Seth and his cronies had taken you.

We should have called, I said ruefully. I’m—we’re sorry about that, I added and Dylan nodded.

How are your feet? Teresa asked Dylan, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

Not too bad, he said, glancing at me. All in the line of work, being a detective is difficult. I think I’ll just be a guitar player from now on. Thanks to Justin our band can continue our tour.

So how did Darius get involved with Seth? Corey asked.

Seems Darius had interest in Seth Teller’s band the X-Communicators a few years ago and was counting on that grant money from the university. They had remained friends and when Darius wanted to sabotage TopFlight he enlisted his friend Seth to ruin the chances of an up and coming band that TopFlight had invested a lot of money on. I turned to face Corey, Teresa and Dylan. I guess you guys are a big deal. We didn’t realize how much was riding on this tour. If it had failed—those big wigs in London would have been out a lot of money. Filing for bankruptcy was their only option. If that had happened, Darius would have swooped in and bought them out to “save” them, but in turn become president—which he has wanted for years. I found out in my investigating that he was overlooked for a few promotions and he had a sour taste in his mouth and wanted revenge on the company.

And his relationship with Seth Teller fit right into his scheme, Corey muttered. I nodded.

It was never TopFlight’s intention to drop you guys, that was just Darius blowing smoke to get you—in particular Corey—very upset and not on your game, music wise anyway. They were counting on you desperately to succeed

We were silent for a moment, then a man came into the room. Good morning, he said brightly. I am Chief Inspector Anton Metier.

Nice to finally meet you, sir, I said standing up to shake his hand. I am Justin Macdonald. This is Dylan Price, Corey Cross and Teresa Simmons AKA ComfortZone.

Metier nodded. I would like to thank you for your help in bringing these culprits to justice, he remarked. I am not going to thank you for bringing me into work at 2 am, he added with a chuckle. But I can see you are all tired and want to get back to your hotel, so I will make this brief. We just need a statement from you so I can piece together the story. These young men you helped capture are in a lot of trouble from what the preliminary report says. Metier turned to Dylan. How are you, Mr. Price? I hear you were poisoned by these people back in London.

I’m fine now, sir, he said with a wry grin.

Well, that carries an attempted murder charge. We learned from the authorities in London—my friend DC Mendon, that there was enough poison in that fruit to kill someone. Thankfully that has not happened, he added with a grin and Dylan nodded.

So, could you please help me to understand the whole picture?

I related how two of the band members had been kidnapped back in our hometown, Port Salser to make the band miss the flight after failing to prevent the band from making their original flight—which had been cancelled by Seth Teller.

Metier nodded as he made notes on a pad.

We made the flight and arriving in London Waldman cancelled our hotel reservations. He was hoping all this trouble would show the record company that these guys were not serious about doing the tour and make them fail as a band, which under the circumstances would ruin the company, I continued. Which is of course what Waldman and Teller wanted all along. Waldman still had to play along and not give himself away, so he managed to get band replacements. This was more to throw suspicion off himself by looking like he was trying to help us.

We managed to get another room at another hotel very quickly and Darius panicked, Dylan went on. He had Teller send the fruit basket, hoping both Corey and I would be poisoned, he continued. That would of course totally derail the band.

He also attacked the desk clerk at the Princess Elizabeth Hotel, Henry Wilcox when Henry stumbled on Teller trying to sabotage our band equipment in the music room, Corey remarked.

Right, Metier said continuing to write. And here in Paris, M. Teller tried to steal your equipment and then lured your friend, a Mr. Gilman to La Tour Eiffel?

Right, I said. That was so I would go to look for him and be away from the hotel where he caused the gas leak earlier. They were getting desperate and were resorting to more and more dangerous methods to derail the band.

He must have known you would talk to the young woman at the theatre and find out where Van had gone? Corey remarked and I nodded.

Teller knew I was an amateur detective since he was from Port Salser. Once Waldman knew he tried to get me to go home.

And the threats, Teresa piped up. The note we got back home and then at the radio station in London. That punk called in a threat while we were still on the air. What a jerk! The guy is seriously deranged if he thinks a little threat like that is going to take us down. He doesn’t know us very well, does he guys?

Corey and Dylan nodded, grinning.

I was happy to see the band was getting along and were going to continue the tour. I was doubly happy to see that Corey was keeping stable as well, as these threats were certainly made to freak him out. I was also glad that TopFlight would not be filing for bankruptcy. They were still counting on the band to hit it big.

Later that morning we were surprised to see Nate and Sam at the hotel when we went down for breakfast. We related the adventure to them as we munched on French toast and tea in the hotel restaurant. We thanked Charlie and Renny, who had decided to stay in Paris and catch the concert that night at the Odeon. I had tracked down Alyce, the young receptionist at the Odeon, and had managed to give her some tickets. She had decided to accompany Van to the concert and Van was happy about this.

We have some serious rehearsing to do, Dylan said after finishing his tea and wiping his mouth on a napkin. So let’s get to it, dudes!

The band members went off to practice, leaving Van and me in the restaurant with Renny and Charlie.

So have you thought about the tattoos?, Renny said.

What’s this about tattoos, Van asked skeptically, taking a sip of his tea.

Oh, didn’t we tell you, I said with a grin. The band is going out this afternoon before the concert and getting matching tattoos. They were supposed to go out last night, but in all the excitement—well it was postponed. Since we’re honorary members of the band we have to get them done as well.

Van eyed me suspiciously. No you never mentioned this. I don’t know if I want one, he said. I like my arms the way they are, thank you very much.

Oh, but your arm would be much better with a tattoo on it, Renny said grinning at Van. Look at my arms. These are beautiful, no?

Van nodded. Yeah, sure, he said. They’re cool. But can I start off with something a little less—dramatic?

Oh, no we were all going to get sleeve tattoos, like Renny’s, I said trying to keep a straight face.

Van turned to me. No thanks then. Remember I said how cool it would be to be part of a rock band? I’ve since changed my mind. The pain and torture isn’t worth it!