Part 3
The first two hours of the search revealed nothing.
Professor Alan Reeves stood calmly on the porch while federal agents moved through his house.
Books covered almost every wall.
Geological samples filled cabinets.
Computers sat neatly arranged.
Nothing screamed kidnapper.
Nothing screamed torture.
Nothing explained Ryan Mercer.
Detective Holland began wondering whether they had moved too soon.
Then one investigator entered the garage.
He noticed the floor was uneven beneath a heavy shelving unit.
The shelves were moved.
Underneath was metal.
A hydraulic hatch.
It did not appear on the building plans.
Holland stood beside it as technicians opened the concealed entrance.
Cold air rose from below.
Not ordinary basement air.
Sterile.
Chemical.
Heavy with disinfectant.
And something else.
Formaldehyde.
Holland later said that was the moment he stopped wondering whether Reeves was involved.
They descended.
The basement chamber was approximately 130 square feet.
Its walls were lined with professional soundproofing.
There was no window.
No natural light.
At the center stood a narrow metal bed.
Leather restraints hung from its sides.
Nearby were intravenous stands.
Medical monitors.
Electroencephalography equipment.
A directional speaker system.
Chemicals.
Needles.
Specialized neurological stimulators.
