by Elias Raven
Where does one go to find the answer?
What does one want more than anything else?
What you seek is locked away and only one key will open this box…
Are you ready to solve a mystery, Paige?
Your curiosity will lead the way.
Don’t be fooled by the obvious…
Regards,
(signed with a drawing of a mint leaf)
....that the mounds of ices, and the bowls of mint-julep and sherry cobbler they make in these latitudes, are refreshments never to be thought of afterwards, in summer, by those who would preserve contented minds.
~Charles Dickens~
Ok, my mind was officially blown! Who did I know that would go to this much trouble to pull this off? I couldn’t think of anyone in my posse or family that was this good. Did I have a secret admirer? Somebody too nerdy to speak up? What about the infamous Bennett Duo? Mom knew the senior and dad knew the junior, but I’ve never had a relationship with them. Was this some kind of test from The Morg? I shut off my phone camera and saved the video. I decided not to send it, until after I talked to Kathy & Sarah and took the package home for my parents to see. I was completely baffled. I nonchalantly walked over to Penelope and asked her (rather lamely)
if the employees at The Morgan did any kind of hazing to the new hires or some such. She pondered for a second and then said that once Matt, the cubicle nerd two over and to the left, had secretly given her a slice of chocolate cheesecake, and then tried to play it off cool like, but she knew it was him cause the other cubicle folk ratted him out.
“That’s great Penelope, thanks!” I replied smiling over the awkward nerd moment and then walked back to my desk.
“Well, I could ask HR Kathy if anything like this had ever happened, but on second thought, maybe it was a bad idea. She was rather straight-laced and she might think the box and note arriving the way they did, might be from a stalker. Mom always told me to go with my gut instinct and right now, I didn’t feel or sense any danger from the box or the letter.
The snippet of Dickens at the end of the note had to be a clue where the next answer was hidden. Mint Juleps and Sherry Cobbler. I loaded a research query into my desktop computer for bars and restaurants serving said drinks and picked up a dozen hits. I started pairing down the list looking for commonalities and finally narrowed my search down to the immediate area first. Bingo!
“The Hammer & Mint” in midtown.
I carefully packed everything back up and set it aside. I knew they (the powers that be) monitored our computer usage and I needed to get cracking.
I clicked on my mail icon and found half dozen queries had already been forwarded to me for research. My head was buzzing with some of the names and items that were being sought. I busily started writing a string of search queries into my computer finishing the programing in record time, I kicked off the program (just like in The Matrix) and looking at the clock, I saw it was time to head to the bar… I sent a message to my posse, but they were already waiting outside my area… Sarah & Kathy’s jaws both hit the marble floor when they saw the package.
“What are we? Chopped Liver?” Kathy asked.
“Don’t say chopped! We don’t know who sent the box yet!” I replied cattily.
But we were going to find out...
Chapter 19
We loaded up my mysterious package into the back seat of (The Mystery Machine - Couldn’t resist) The Sarah Mobile. Now my BFF Kathy has a wonderful sense of timing and synced up with the Bluetooth in the Sarah Mobile’s Jamarific Stereo System (yeah, I just made that shit up!) She loaded the cool jams playlist and the familiar refrains of Sarah McLaughlin’s - Building a Mystery poured forth.
“Brilliant!” I exclaimed.
Kathy gave me the double thumbs up and munched contentedly on a banana she had stashed from The Caf. Right on cue, we started singing in three-part harmony, because we are Queens!
“You come out at night …” we were tearing it up (me and my vamp tramp posse!)
Sarah turned on 6th Avenue and before long located the Hammer & Mint and being parking blessed, found us a spot curbside near the front. We took a moment to view the outside, pointing at the rather Irish looking establishment replete with old-world charm and a wonderful wooden sign with a hammer and mint logo established circa 1943 over a rather large wooden door replete with iron bindings and bolts (Camelot anyone?). We hopped out of Sarah’s ride and put our game face on (badass bitches on parade). I had no idea what we were doing or what we were looking for. I was riding on gut and intuition. If this wasn’t the right place, then it was back to the drawing board.
The evening crowd was rather boisterous! The black wooden shuttered windows were cast open to the street and there was seating inside and outside of the restaurant (if you didn’t mind sitting at a table as big as a postage stamp on the outside, you were good!). Irish folk music was blaring from the speakers and we could see a round of darts was being tossed in the game area. A beautiful red-headed waitress that looked Irish (or my name isn’t Murphy!) pointed us to a table in the corner. We grabbed seats and looked at the drink menu. Well, Mint Juleps were on the menu and waving down our waitress, we ordered and waited for our drinks to arrive.
I didn’t know what I expected to happen. I mean a package comes out of the blue that looks like it had traveled the world. Antiquated (or meant to look like it) along with a strange riddle with my name on it. I wished I had Professor Jones’s journal to look for clues (Anyone for the Last Crusade?). A few of the more adventurous souls tried to slide onto our table to join us, but I had the lose the fluff glare down pat, and Sarah & Kathy would say “we were waiting for our husbands,” which would elicit an apology and usually do the trick.
“I’m going to go to the ladies’ room and get a look around the place,” I told my posse.
“Be careful hon!” Kathy shot back. I gave her the chin to follow me and nodding, we asked Sarah to guard the table (with her life) because the place was filling up fast. The bar had a million knick knacks and pictures everywhere. I didn’t have the slightest idea of what I was looking for. After taking a turn at the loo and looking everywhere, we headed back to our table.
I ran my fingers over the dark wood surface and started drumming nervously with my fingers. What was I missing? I pulled the letter (from the package) out and reread the contents.
“Don’t be fooled by the obvious?” was the last thing it said. At that moment, a flash appeared in front of my eyes (actually an imaginary light bulb, like you see in the cartoons). Or it might have been some of the more drunken revelers having an IG photo op moment! Be that as it may, I had an idea and waved our waitress down, who was busy jostling drink orders between tables.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Hi, my name is Paige and I was wondering…? I started to say and at that, the waitress stopped what she was doing and turning to me like I had three heads asked the following:
“Paige Murphy?” she said.
Now we, of course, looked at her stunned and we all did a Scooby-Doo Mystery look in reply as I said:
“Yes I am!” in reply.
The waitress smiled and patted my shoulder like I was an old friend and said:
“I’ll be right back!” and vanished toward the bar.
Before long she returned with an aged bartender wearing a rather worn bowler hat, carrying a drink tray with what looked like Thin Mint Shots and an envelope in his hands.
“Are you Paige Murphy?” he asked me looking serious for a moment
“That I am! Would you like to see my driver’s license?” I replied puzzled.
“No, you look like the note said and I’m to give you this round of shots on the house and this envelope,” he said smiling.
“I don’t understand?” I replied, but we reached out and grabbed the shots anyways.
The man pulled his bowler hat off and scratched his head.
“Well, all I can tell you is that a package came th
is morning that had an envelope with a generous amount of cash (payment for me and my staff) along with a note saying that a lady named Paige Murphy would be coming to the bar in the next few days looking puzzled and asking around and that I was to give you this envelope and these shots and tell you congratulations!” he explained.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Nope, I told my girls that if you did show up, they would have an extra 50 dollar bill in their tip jar and you just made my girl Sally’s night!” he said laughing.
“Well, what if I didn’t show up?” I replied.
The letter said in the event of a no show, that they would make arrangements to collect the package and its contents, but we could keep half of the cash for our troubles.
“Well, it looks like we hit the jackpot ladies!” I replied and held up my shot. The girls lifted their glasses and down they went (yep, they tasted just like a thin mint cookie alright).
We thanked the bartender and asked for the bill.
“It’s all covered ladies, but if you can do an old man a favor, we are all curious as to what’s in the package? He replied.
Shrugging my shoulders I ripped open the large travel envelope and looking inside found another envelope (looking just like the last one) along with a skeleton key.
“Thank you kindly for humoring an old man. I was praying to the Patron Saint of Bartenders that it was something that was not going to be harming you or your friends,” he said.
“Do you know what that’s all about?” asked the redheaded barmaid Sally.
“Nope, but I think we are building a mystery!” I replied.
Snatching up the package and key, we thanked them profusely and taking our spoils headed back to the Sarah Mobile.
“Open the trunk! Let’s see if the key fits!” I told the girls.
Sarah popped the trunk and I reached in and extracted the mystery box and tried the key.
“Aren’t you going to open the letter first?” asked Kathy.
“Crap! I was so excited to get the key, I forgot about the letter!’ I exclaimed.
“Well, let’s get off the street and go to your house. I’m sure your parents are going to want in on the action and we don’t want to destroy the letter or the box.” Kathy said.
Every fiber in my being was screaming to open the box (Open, Open, Open), but I knew Kathy was right. The mystery had just deepened tonight and it was better to be safe than sorry when stepping into the great unknown. I reluctantly set the box back in the trunk, along with the envelope and key, then closed the lid and jumped into the car. Just then my phone buzzed with an incoming text.
“You girls ok? Dinner’s on and the table is set and the roast is waiting to be eaten!”
I blew a loose hair off of my face (trying to hide my irritation) and texted my mom.
“On our way home. Wait till you see what happened today!” I replied back, and then hit send. Pulling into the evening traffic, we headed back across Manhattan toward my house talking excitedly between the three of us. My head running in circles, yet loving the mystery of it all.
Chapter 20
We came rolling up to the house blasting Kathy’s (Cool Girlz Tunes) Spotify playlist. As soon as she parked, I had my door open and raced for the trunk.
“Are we a little anxious?” Sarah asked, looking at me in the mirror, and then she hit the lock button before I could open the trunk.
“You hussy! Open the trunk!” I yelled pounding on the lid.
“Now, now Paige!” She replied wagging her finger. At that point, I was going to jump through the rear window and strangle my BFF, but seeing my eyes she hit the release button (lucky for her!).
I snatched up the mysterious box and all of the contents and headed into the house followed closely by my posse.
“Mom!! Dad!!” I yelled when I opened the front door.
My mom and dad were talking excitedly on the other side of the kitchen door. When I yelled, all went silent and my mom (June Cleaver) stuck her head out replete with an apron and matching flats.
“Yes dear?” she asked.
“Were home, you mentioned dinner and we have a surprise to show you as well!” I told her.
My father came out from the kitchen doing his Father Knows Best routine again asking:
“What’s all this racket?” he said grumpily.
“Dad! You won’t believe what happened today!” I said excitedly. (On your mark, get set, go!)
Three women started talking excitedly pointing at the box and the package and telling my poor father all the gory details blow by blow.
My dad motioned for us to join him in the living room and pointed at me to set the package down on the coffee table and holding his hand up for silence, said:
“One at a time, you’re giving me whiplash ladies!” he continued.
We all got a chuckle out of the dad joke and being the ringleader, I proceeded to give my dad the details of the day’s events leading up to the mysterious packages (say it in French) arrival at my desk. My father asked if he could touch it and I of course (almost screamed)
“Of course!” In my I am so confused, I need you voice.
My mom came in from the kitchen and started setting the dining table.
“Now what have you ladies been up too?” she asked and seeing the packages and box said:
“What’s that dear?” to my father.
My father, being well trained in the ways of women, replied and gave the most succinct and abbreviated answer as possible (counting on me to give my mother all the gory details later).
“That’s nice!” she replied and continued to bring out dinner stuff.
“Girls, go wash your hands and freshen up. You smell like mint and cigarettes!” she said, giving us the eye.
At that we laughed remembering the drinks and shot and headed up to my room to clean up, before joining my parents long hair combed, makeup touched, and body spray everywhere.
My mom, ever the fastidious one brought out liquid refreshments (booze).
“Well, judging from the racket, I think this might help with the nerves!” she exclaimed and smiling, tilted back a martini (like a boss) and after finishing the drink, poured a second.
“Mom!” I exclaimed, but she just waved us off.
“Your dinner is getting cold dear and you can show us your little mystery box as soon as the table is cleared!” she replied smiling.
We all made small talk for the rest of dinner, but my mind was focused on the box and the mystery that it entailed. Whoever was behind this charade, I was hooked and the sooner I saw whether the key would fit and open the mystery, the better I would feel.
Before long, dinner had been consumed (yeah, it was old school deliciousness) and the table cleared. We all raced back to the living room. I allowed my dad to see the letter and box. He delicately turned it over. I mentioned the video I had made and streamed it to our big screen TV (Thanks Apple) and showed it to everyone.
“This is right up your alley dear!” my mother commented.
“What do you mean mom?” I replied not knowing what she meant.
“Shhhh, your dad is a member of the 221B Baker Street Society (in England).
“The Sherlock Holmes club!?” I replied (sounding very much the nerd at that point)
“The one and only!” she replied.
“Look, the bloodhound has caught the scent!” she continued and pointed at my father.
My dad took the letter and box to the dining room table and flipped on the overhead light examining both closely.
“Well, the letter is done brilliantly. The paper has a small watermark from the manufacturer. See, if you hold it up to the light, you can see the faint L and B in the corner there signifying Lloyd & Baker... It was quite expensive for its day!” he said, sounding very Sherlockian.
“Now the box is on a whole different level. I mean this thing is cool! It almost looks like a puzzle or trap box. The craftsmanship is second to none. I would say the Art Deco peri
od. The keyhole looks very aged. The original package didn’t have a key, but you found a key this evening at the bar? He asked.
“Yes, a key and an envelope and a round of shots!” I replied laughing.
“Grab the antique pewter letter opener off of my desk honey,” he asked.
I dutifully grabbed his letter opener and handed it to him.
He carefully examined the original letter, and then turned his attention to the new one.
“Well, the letter is very similar to the first one. The envelope looks the same.” he continued.
Running the edge of the opener along with the V, he carefully loosened the edges, revealing another letter.
He slowly unfolded it and just like before, another sprig of Mint fell out from between the pages.
He picked up the mint and walking over to his desk grabbed a magnifying glass.
I handed him the other sprig before he could ask and smiling at me, he began comparing the two, and then confidently said that they came from the same plant.
“How do you know that father?” I asked.
He put the two of them together and you could see where one had been cut from the other, the angle of the sheers matched perfectly.
My father handed me the contents of the letter and I carefully folded back the pages. It read:
Now that the obvious has been exposed…
Another doorway has been imposed…
A sweet treat can make you smile…
A good mystery can take a while…
Is it a what or a who?
Don’t let your intuition be fooled.
Regards,
(The mint leaf signature again)
“If some confectioners were willing
To let the shape announce the filling,
We'd encounter fewer assorted chocs,
Bitten into and returned to the box.”
