The Curse of the Lion's Heart

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The Curse of the Lion's Heart Page 11

by Angella Graff


  I sucked in my breath as he popped the lid open. Nestled there in white silk, was a small gold locket. It was about the size of a quarter, with a lion carved intricately into the top. The lion’s eyes were emerald, and around the top were small rubies pressed into the gold. It was there. It hadn’t been stolen. I looked up at him with wonder in my eyes. All of my paranoia, all of my fear and all of those moments when Elizabeth had been screaming at me, had been for nothing.

  I opened my mouth to speak when an ethereal voice said just beside my ear, “That’s not my locket.”

  I blinked, trying not to show my surprise, and I glanced over at her. Her face was drawn and worried, her arms crossed over her chest, and she was shaking her head so hard her red hair was falling into her face.

  “So, this is the Lion’s Heart?” I asked my dad.

  “The very one,” he said. “You want to hold it?”

  I remembered the curse, and a small part of me didn’t want to take that chance. “Um, no. That’s fine.”

  “I swear to you, this is not my locket. Go on. Pick it up,” she insisted as I tried to ignore her. “On the back of my locket is a small flaw, a chip in the gold only someone who knew it was there could find. I dropped it from a tree one day when my nurse was yelling at me to climb down. It hit the rock and chipped the back, right near the hinge. Just check,” she insisted.

  “Wait, I changed my mind,” I said swiftly as my dad started to close the box. What was the harm in checking, I thought, and reached out for it.

  My dad seemed a little nervous, but he’d always trusted me with things like this. He plucked it from the box and carefully put it in my hands. “Just be careful,” he said.

  I nodded and held it in my palm, staring down at the lion, at the rubies and emeralds. It really was beautiful. Simple but elegant, something I could see the future ruler of England wearing. I turned it over in my hand and examined it carefully. She was right. The locket was perfect. Not a flaw in the gold, not a single scratch. I realized, as I was staring at it, it looked too perfect. Too new to be hundreds of years old. Even with a restoration on the locket, there would have been flaws. Chips in the gold, places where a good polishing just wouldn’t smooth out the age and wear. This locket was perfect, like it had just been cast.

  “They um… they did a really great job on that locket,” I said.

  “Uh huh,” he replied, putting it back in the box. He could tell I had more to say, and he looked at me expectantly.

  “It’s just, even with gold, I didn’t realize they could get it so perfect. They even took the chip out of the back.” I was hoping he knew about the chip, because without any document to back up my statement, I just sounded a little nuts.

  “Chip?” he asked, and my heart sank.

  “Yeah well, the research I found on it said that when Princess Elizabeth was uh…”

  “Eight,” she supplied helpfully when I started flailing.

  “Eight,” I continued, “she dropped it. When she was hanging from a tree, the website said, and it got chipped in the back.”

  “I think I do recall reading that somewhere,” he said slowly, taking the locket back out to look at it.

  “And I don’t mean to nit-pick but man, it looks really, really flawless for being so old. Even gold doesn’t usually polish up like that, does it?”

  He was frowning now, deeply and concerned. “Not normally, no.”

  “I’m just saying, it seems a little weird. Maybe you got a fake,” I said.

  He shook his head and we started to walk to his office. “Not possible. Not remotely possible. I examined it thoroughly when it arrived. It was authentic. The real thing.”

  “Maybe someone switched it out,” I said. “It’s happened before.”

  He looked at me now with a frown. I’d been in too much trouble with the museum for him to miss a statement like that. “What are you getting at, Alexandra?”

  “Nothing,” I lied quickly. “It just struck me as odd, that’s all. I was expecting it to look a little bit more worn down than it does. You know, for being a few hundred years old.” I was flailing with my words, but I could see I’d gotten his attention. He wasn’t listening to me anymore, now his eyes focused on the locket he was turning over and over in his hands. Yep, now he knew. This was a fake.

  I quickly excused myself to the ladies room to let my dad work out what to do on his own. I wasn’t sure that even if he was able to prove it was a fake, he’d know where to start looking for the real thing. However, if the locket was reported missing, and likely that was the next step my dad was going to take, the thief would probably get wind of it and start to panic. When people panicked, they made mistakes. It happened every time. When the thief made a mistake, he’d leave a clue, and those clues had helped me in the past with these mysteries.

  By the time I came out, my dad was on the phone with some very important people and he shooed me out of the room. I grabbed my bag and decided to wait outside for Penelope since it was a nice day, and the street fair was always great for people watching. Amos was in, and the museum was just opening, so I said just a quick hi before I settled myself on the steps near a large pillar.

  I stretched my legs out into a patch of sunlight, slipped on my sun glasses and sat back. There were a few kids in the open square who had kites flying low in the gusty breeze. There was a martial arts demonstration across from that, and a group of people with stringed instruments I’d never seen before giving a small concert. I could hear the twanging music all the way over and I closed my eyes to listen.

  When it stopped, I sat up again and was startled when I saw an unwelcome figure standing across the street. It was that man again, in all black, a grey beanie on, and dark glasses covering half his face. He wasn’t moving, just standing there with his hands behind his back, staring in my direction. I felt panic rise up in my stomach and as I jumped up to run inside, a car pulled up and Penelope jumped out.

  I took a few steps down to greet her, and when I looked around her car, the man in black was gone. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the nerves, and I smiled at Kate who came around to the sidewalk to say hello. She was staring up at the museum with a wistful smile, and she pat my shoulder when I got close enough.

  “You’re one lucky kid to grow up here,” she said.

  I shrugged a little, not really feeling all that lucky when I remembered every boring summer of my life. “Yeah it’s not so bad,” I answered politely. I glanced up and saw my dad pacing along his office window. “I uh… don’t think he’s coming down. There was an emergency with a museum piece.”

  “Oh. Well maybe when I pick up Penny?”

  “It’s Penelope,” she corrected her mother harshly.

  “Well to me you’ll always be my little lucky Penny,” Kate said and smiled when Penelope’s cheeks flamed red. She laughed and then said, “Tell your dad he’s welcome to call me any time today. I’ll be home most of the afternoon, and I can come pick Penelope up whenever you girls are ready.”

  “Yeah okay, thanks mom,” Penelope said, giving her mother a quick hug and then shoved her off in the direction of the car. We stood there for a few minutes until Kate had driven off, and then I opened my mouth to tell Penelope what I’d seen. I didn’t get the chance, however, because right then, Jack jumped out from behind a pillar and grinned.

  “Lucky Penny? How cute is that?” he crowed. He threw his arm around my shoulders by way of greeting and grinned at Penelope. I rolled my eyes at his teasing and shoved him away, but his hand gave the back of my neck a little squeeze before he stepped back.

  “Please don’t,” Penelope begged. “I swear, she’s so mortifying.”

  “I can’t believe Ms. McKinley is your mum!” he said. “She’s the coolest teacher in the school.”

  “If one more person says that, I’m going to punch them in the face,” she warned.

  Jack didn’t look scared at all, and I just felt annoyed that I couldn’t tell Penelope about the man I’d seen.
I partly trusted Jack, but not enough to divulge every secret just yet. I was definitely ready to ditch the museum and get investigating. Besides, jumping in a pool for a while didn’t sound so bad at the moment. It was getting pretty warm and I’d had enough of stuffy museum types for the afternoon. My dad was going to be caught up in the locket theft, and as much as I wanted to stick around and grab all the information I could, I knew I’d be watched like a hawk.

  We decided to head upstairs to tell my dad that we were leaving, and let him know Penelope had arrived. The three of us took the elevator up to my dad’s floor, but when I poked my head in the office and said, “My friends are here,” he just waved me off with his hand. “I’ll call you later,” I shouted, and within minutes, we were standing outside again.

  “We’re free,” Jack shouted, spreading his arms.

  Penelope and I giggled a little and followed him down the sidewalk, past the street fair and up the very posh First Avenue. The city’s downtown had a historical area, where all of the houses stood from a hundred years ago. They were big, Victorian mansions covered in vines and big, looming fruit trees shading the lawns. Only the wealthiest of the city actually lived on this street, and most of the houses had been bought up and turned into real estate agencies and lawyer’s offices.

  We trekked two blocks up to the largest house on the street. It was painted white with royal blue shutters and a big, green door. The lawn was massive, and very bright green, and had to be entered through an iron gate. Two huge maple trees shaded the front, blocking most of the house from street view, and the temperature was much cooler in there than it was in the sun. I couldn’t believe how green it was, and how huge the house was. Jack said his uncle was rich, but I had no idea how rich until now.

  “My stupid sister’s home,” Jack said as he opened the front door for us to walk inside. “But just ignore her. She’s probably on the phone to her boyfriend anyway. All she does is sit around and talk to him for hours and hours, and never socializes with normal human beings.” Penelope and I exchanged looks and stifled a giggle as walked into the foyer.

  The inside of his house was just… incredible. There wasn’t really another word for it. It was really dark, and the furniture looked at least a hundred years old. There were real, painted portraits hanging on nearly every wall, and all of the light fixtures and door knobs were brass. There was a huge, curved staircase that led up into another dark hall, and a little pathway that led past a parlor with old books, leather sofas and a fireplace in the corner. I only caught a glimpse of that room, but I was itching to explore. Missing locket or no, this was my kind of house.

  Jack took us down the long hallway and pushed open two swinging, wooden doors that led to the kitchen and dining room. It was almost like stepping through a time machine or something, going from the ancient house, to an extremely modern kitchen. It was really bright and wide. There was a tall counter with barstools covered in empty pizza boxes, and the stainless steel fridge was covered in little pieces of paper with phone numbers and notes written all over. It looked exactly like my kitchen at home, and it was a really strange addition to his Victorian-style mansion.

  “Pool’s through there,” Jack said, nodding to the large doors that led out back.

  I walked over and peered through the window at the huge back yard. It was very green, a ton of trees everywhere, and beyond the grass lawn was a fenced pool. I could see a really tall, rock waterfall that was flowing directly into the water. I had to admit, it was the coolest house I’d ever been in.

  “Jeeze,” Penelope said, looking around at the room, “you guys really are loaded.”

  Jack gave a little shrug and pulled three bottles of water out of the fridge. “My uncle is, anyway. I guess that’s why my sister and I got willed to him.”

  “Willed to him?” Penelope asked with a little eye roll. “Like you’re property?”

  “It’s different in the UK,” he said with a smirk.

  “No it isn’t, you’re so stupid,” she said and grabbed one of the bottles from his hand.

  “There’s a cabana out back so you can change,” Jack said, ignoring her insult, and he led the way out. We followed over the grass, which was surprisingly soft, and the whole garden smelled great, like fresh cut lawns and blooming flowers. He pushed the pool gate open and I saw the little changing hut on the far side of the water. It was already pretty warm out, and even though I was there for a reason, for a job, a little dip in the pool couldn’t hurt. The water looked really inviting, and I was dying for a few minutes to just relax with my friends.

  Penelope and I excused ourselves to the cabana and I was happy to see curtains we could close so we could both change at the same time. I pulled my curtains shut and opened my bag to grab my suit.

  “So, you looked like you were going to tell me something back at the museum,” she said, her voice muffled from where she was pulling her shirt up over her head.

  “Oh yeah,” I said and immediately lowered my voice. I slipped into my suit as fast as humanly possible and then waited for her to pull her curtains back. Once she was ready, clothed in a full black swimsuit with little white skulls printed all over them, I walked over to speak almost directly into her ear.

  “Okay so, my dad figured out the locket that he has is a fake. Then, when I went outside to wait for you, there was this guy standing outside staring at me.” Penelope waggled her eyebrows up and down and grinned, so I gave her a tiny push. “Not like that! He was super creepy. I saw him yesterday, too, just standing there staring. He was dressed in all black and I swear, he was staring right at me. I think he’s… you know… part of it.”

  Penelope’s smile dropped and she crossed her arms. “Definitely sounds suspicious.”

  “So now I just need to think of a way for me to get inside and poke around. I mean, Jack hasn’t really invited us to come in and hang out, so I’m not sure what to do.”

  Penelope contemplated our predicament for a moment, and then her eyes lit up. “How about this, we’ll swim for a bit, then you can just tell Jack you need to use the restroom and you can go snoop around. I’ll keep him distracted as long as I can so you can take your time. I bet if there’s any evidence of anything, it’ll be in that big room we passed on the way in. Like in a safe or something.”

  I nodded in agreement. It made perfect sense. And even if we couldn’t crack a safe to get the locket itself, if we could get enough evidence to prove it was Jack, we could probably get a cop or something to come investigate. “Sounds good.”

  “Oy!” came a voice from outside. “You get lost in your clothes or something?”

  Penelope and I looked at each other, giggled, and came out. I was a little embarrassed to be in my suit in front of him, but Jack didn’t make a big deal about it at all. He’d thrown a couple of huge, floating rafts into the water and without warning, he dove in, throwing a huge splash our way.

  Penelope and I shrieked at the cold water, but she wasted no time in jumping in, and I followed right behind. The cold water felt really good with the sun beating down on us, and as we swam around and chatted, I almost forgot, yet again, that I was there to investigate him.

  It was about an hour into the swim that Penelope gave me the look, and I remembered I needed to go inside and start looking around. Time was a critical factor in our little mission, so I couldn’t waste anymore in the pool.

  Swimming to the edge, I pulled myself up on the cement and said, “Mind if I go in and use your restroom?” I tried to sound casual and calm, like I didn’t have a secret agenda.

  “Downstairs one’s not working right now,” Jack said. “Take the stairs and go right. Third door on the right.” He didn’t seem to suspect anything, and as soon as he gave me the directions, Penelope started asking him a bunch of questions about England.

  Grabbing my towel, I made sure I wasn’t dripping before I headed inside. I crossed the grass slowly, still hearing the voices of Penelope and Jack chatting away, so I figured I could take my tim
e searching. The main parlor was number one, but there was no telling how many rooms upstairs could be explored.

  When I stepped inside, the freezing air of the house was uncomfortable on my wet skin. I passed through the kitchen as quickly as I could, and hurried into the hall, looking around to make sure no one was around. I was alone it seemed, so I took my time staring at the portraits, but didn’t see one of Hamish Ainsworth anywhere. There were a ton of people who kind of looked like him, but nothing I could really go on.

  I ducked into the parlor when I was sure it was empty, but when I glanced around, I realized it was just a sitting room. There was a large TV on the wall near the fireplace, and a ton of books and old figurines, but no safe. I checked a few of the books, pulling them down to see if any were the key to a secret passageway or room, but nothing happened.

  I was a little disappointed, but not totally discourage as I crept out. I headed over to the stairs and took them two-by-two up to the landing, keeping my steps as light as possible. There was a dark hall to the left, and an even darker one to the right. I chose left, thinking if Jack was directing me right, whatever he didn’t want me to find would be in the opposite direction.

  I approached the first door, and I could hear a voice, a girl, who was talking very rapidly in the same accent as Jack. His sister, I remembered, who he’d said was on the phone with her boyfriend. I passed by her door, hearing her voice and some thumping music in the background. Her stream of conversation didn’t stop as I passed, so I figured she didn’t know I was there.

  I checked the door next to hers, but it was just a closet full of sheets and towels, and the one next to that held a big, clunking water heater. Now I was starting to get discouraged. I had expected this big, Victorian house to hold at least some secrets, but even with the old furniture and oil paintings on the wall, it seemed to be just your average home. Television, family portraits and linen closets? Not really evidence to prove these were a family of thieves.

 

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