CHAPTER THREE: THE FOURTH DOOR
Briarfield Park smelled of fresh paint, pine boards, and cinnamon pastries.
Volunteers moved between tents while a local brass band rehearsed beside the fountain.
Beyond the sports field stood the Lantern Maze, a cluster of high canvas walls painted to resemble an enchanted city.
From outside, its structure looked playful and harmless.
Inside, Daniel knew, twelve corridors converged on a dark central chamber.
Carol refused to enter through the public gate.
She led him along the service fence to an opening behind the tool shed.
A yellow sign warned that the construction area was closed until three.
Carol pointed through the gap.
“Look at the northern door.”
Daniel saw a plain wall painted with silver clouds.
A brass handle protruded near its center.
“That wasn’t there last week,
” he said.
“No.”
“Who installed it?”
“The sponsor’s contractors.”
At the far end of the enclosure, a young woman in a fluorescent vest was testing a wall-mounted lantern.
Daniel recognized her as Iris Bell, the festival’s safety coordinator.
He waved and she approached with a coil of rope over one shoulder.
“You’re early,” Iris said.
“And you’re standing in a construction zone.”
Daniel held up the broken brass case.
“Carol says Victor used this to track the doors.”
Iris’s face changed.
“Where did you get that?”
“I found it in the recreation center’s old equipment.”
“It was missing from the inventory.”
“It was in a crate marked scrap.”
“Someone changed the label,” Carol said.
Iris looked over her shoulder before speaking again.
“Come into the tool tent.”
They crossed the service yard while a forklift carried panels toward the maze entrance.
Inside the tent, Iris laid out a printed course diagram with colored paths.
The public route showed a single loop through the central chamber.
Three side corridors served as emergency exits.
A green arrow pointed toward the north door.
Carol pressed a finger against it.
“That corridor used to lead outside.”
Iris did not disagree.
“It still does on the approved plan.”
“But not on the ground,” Daniel said.
Iris reached for a ruler.
“The fourth door was originally decorative.”
“Victor designed it as a false choice,” Carol said.
“It opened onto a shallow alcove with a painted view of the street.”
“And now?”
“Now the alcove has become a corridor,” Iris replied.
“The production contractor says it leads to the new sponsor experience.”
Daniel frowned.
“A sponsor experience inside the emergency route?”
“I rejected the modification,” Iris said.
“It was installed anyway.”
Her supervisor had told her the change was temporary and would be removed before the public opened.
She had not been given a new diagram.
Daniel could see why Carol was afraid, but he still did not understand the missing needle.
Iris explained that Victor’s selector once fit into a brass plate at the maze’s control station.
It aligned the movable central platform with the correct exits.
The needle was shaped like a flat steel strip, not a magnet.
Its unique notch prevented the selector from turning unless the correct disc was inserted.
Carol had searched Victor’s workroom, the festival inventory, and the abandoned recreation center.
She had believed the strip was hidden inside the compass case.
“Then why throw the case away?” Iris asked Daniel.
“Because I thought it was broken junk.”
Carol stared at the map.
“The strip could still be in that crate.”
“The crate went to recycling Friday,” Daniel said.
Iris checked her phone.
“The municipal sorting depot is open for another hour.”
Daniel looked at the gray clouds gathering over the park.
The public gates opened in less than three hours.
“Before we search for a piece of steel,” he said, “I want to see where that new corridor really goes.”
