The Riddles of Hillgate (Z&C Mysteries, #1)

by Zoey Kane

  “That was close,” Claire whispered.

  “I wonder what the treasure is… A trunk full of dollar bills? A crate full of jewels?”

  Claire was just as excited and nervous as her mother. Her heart seemed to be up in her throat; it beat harder than ever. Zo peeked from the other side of the stump, ready for anything.

  The man suddenly let go of his shovel and dropped to the ground and disappeared into the large hole. He was moving something around with his hands in the mud, pulling it at the same time. Zo and Claire could see the top of his bald head and hear it was a bit of a struggle for him. They couldn’t yet discern what he had excavated. He appeared, pulling himself out of the hole. He was grasping something small in his right hand. He stood, his arms shooting straight up. “Ahhhh ahahah hahahah!!!!!” The hoarse, victorious laugh bellowed out and echoed across the sky.

  “Now is the time, Mom. He’s dropped the shovel.”

  They stood in their muddy nightgowns, getting ready to confront the stranger that had been watching them in the house all this time. His back was facing them, and he was still laughing in wicked glee. Claire ran and picked up the shovel and raised it to smack the man on the back with it.

  Hearing this, the man turned to her in surprise, exposing up close his evil face in the moonlight. He had dark gray, beady eyes set in hollow, dark sockets. His pale and ancient face had many wrinkles, furrowed into deep valleys along his forehead, cheeks and lipless mouth. Barely any strands of gray hair survived his bald and wart-dotted scalp. “Stay back!” he warned in a gravelly voice. “It’s mine…” His worn and liver-spotted hands clenched his treasure as hard as he could, showing white knuckles.

  “What is it?” Claire asked.

  “You’ll never get it. It’s mine,” he repeated. “I’ve waited and searched for too long.”

  “You’re going to listen to us for a moment, mister.” Zo’s overwhelming fear was gone, now that she saw it was two capable women against one old geezer. “There’s a lot of explaining to do about Hillgate and the riddles and the attic.”

  “You know, you won’t defeat me. I’ve waited too long for this. So long, in fact….” His tone softened. “Do you know anything about the history of what you call Hillgate?”

  “No,” Zo responded. “Other than what we put together ourselves.” She stood with feet subconsciously well-placed apart, in case she needed to take instant action. They weren’t going to trust him for a moment. “Tell us about it. Tell us about all the treasure you must be hunting. Tell us…”

  “It’s quite a story…” His eyes became more stormy, matching the night. “It started back in 1927. I was a bank teller to the richest man in Riverside, Mr. Thomas Fillmore, and I was dating his beloved daughter, Lilly…”

  SIXTEEN

  Flashback to July 4, 1927:

  The ballroom was adorned with lovely ladies and regal gentlemen, in their finest wardrobes and accessories, dancing round and round in pairs as the Waltz was played by a string quartet.

  One couple exceeded the beauty of all the others, sliding on the polished floor, tight in the center. She was wearing a white lace dress, with a high-buttoned neck. A gold locket lay upon her bust. Her hair was golden like the sun at noon, her cheeks rosy like the azaleas in her mother’s garden.

  The man’s hair was thick, black, straight and combed back with Pomade. His features were refined: straight nose, recognizable cheekbones and a chiseled jaw line. He smiled charmingly, looking the young woman deep into her blue eyes.

  “Dick, this has been the most fantastic Fourth of July ever,” she said, gleaming in delight.

  They twirled and twirled gracefully as if they were on ice. Too soon, the song ended and everyone was clapping.

  An older gentleman took to the stage of the ballroom, wearing a tuxedo, black bow tie, and top hat. His well-fed belly pushed out like a king’s. “Thank you all, ladies and gents, for coming out on this evening, the Fourth of July, to celebrate together as a town, East and West of Riverside. We are truly happy to see all who could make it, did make it, including many of your beautiful children… who are being well taken care of by our nannies down on the first floor. Let’s celebrate community, unity, charity and patriotism on this fine day, our day of Independence.” He smiled over his white, neatly trimmed beard. “Now, let’s continue to dance. There are, of course, more appetizers over on that side of the room. Please, enjoy…” He bowed and the audience clapped.

  “Dick, isn’t my father the greatest?” the pretty young woman stated.

  “Yes, Lilly, the greatest.” He had to force an upturned lip. “You know, I will be just as rich as your father one day…”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” she said. “Money isn’t everything.”

  But Dick’s eyes were focused in his thoughts, unchanged by Lilly’s quick comment.

  “Let’s get some appetizers, darling.” Lilly pulled his hand and led him over to the buffet table, where silver and china adorned the rich tablecloth.

  “Well, good evening.” A heavy hand rested on Dick’s left shoulder. Dick turned to Mr. Fillmore, Lilly’s father. “How are you two doing so far?” he asked.

  “Splendid, and you?” Dick responded.

  “Wonderful.” He looked at his daughter and then back to Dick. “You know, I love seeing my daughter so happy. Make sure you keep up the good job.” He patted Dick on the back in compliment, then swiftly changed the subject. “How was everything back at the base yesterday? I couldn’t stop by; I had a meeting with the mayor.”

  “Everything ran smoothly.” Dick knew Mr. Fillmore meant at the bank, Riverside Bank, which he owned.

  *

  Back to the present:

  “Tom Fillmore was always making me feel much smaller than him. I was like one of the servants of his estate, only I worked out of his bank. He always told me I was much too young for management, being twenty-three years old. And besides, he was training some other man in town, the mayor’s son, to take over that position one day, as he had no sons as heirs. It made me furious, and ate at my innards.

  “That night of the ball, opportunity offered me everything. Everyone was attending, including all of the bank’s employees, even the mayor and his son. I told Lilly that I was going to have a cigarette on a stroll in the warm evening. Lilly hated smoke, so I knew she would not wish to join.” The old man coughed and spat and then continued. “I instead drove down to the bank where I was going to walk right in and open the safe, like so many times I had done before. Then, I was going to take the money and run. I didn’t care one whit for that insufferable brat daughter, Lilly! What a bore! By the time anyone would discover the money gone, the following Monday, I would be well away and hid.

  “Things went wrong. I had the safe open when I was surprised by Fred Daniels, who was making rounds for the city of Riverside, making sure everything was secure. I had no idea. I was never there at night. And he was supposed to be attending the party, like the rest of the city! We fought and, when I had him down, I shot him with his own gun. Then I covered up the crime by using cleaning kerosene used to remove ink stains, and set fire to the bank. The whole town caught fire because of it. Most of the firemen were at the ball.”

  “So, then you did what?” Zo urged.

  “I drove back up to the ball.”

  “But you killed a man, and set the town on fire. Why didn’t you beat it out and leave altogether, never to be seen again? You had your money,” added Claire.

  “NO, I didn’t! See, that was the atrocity of the whole thing. That hoity-toity banker had taken the money himself, as there was nothing in the safe but a hundred dollars’ worth of small bills. So, I was going back to get what was owed me for taking his malarkey for so long.

  “By the time I got back up the hill, people were speeding down, having heard about the fire in town. I simply walked through the front door, hid myself and waited for all to be gone. I stayed in the library for about two hours, until I was convinced I was safe. The
n, I entered Mr. Fillmore’s room. He was sitting at his desk, and turned in his chair.”

  *

  Flashback:

  “What are you doing here, Andrews?” Mr. Fillmore put out his cigar in the crystal ashtray.

  “Where is it, Tom?”

  “Where is what? And when do you start calling me so informally?” He stood up, sensing something awfully wrong.

  “Where is the money?” Dick walked closer to him, hands behind his back. His gray eyes were intense.

  “Dicky Boy, it honestly is none of your business where the money is. And how would you have known it wasn’t all at the bank in the first place? Unless you were snooping around somewhere you shouldn’t have been.”

  “I hate it when you call me that. Why don’t you ever show me some respect?”

  “What has gotten into you? It’s like you’re someone else. I’m glad I found out now, so that I can tell Lilly. After tonight, you two won’t be dating. And on top of that, after this behavior, you’re going to have to find a job elsewhere. You’re fired.”

  Dick’s eyes gleamed with knowledge. “Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard about the fire?”

  “Of course, I know. My guests have all left town on emergency, scraping up what valuables had survived the fire. We are just so fortunate it couldn’t cross the river and get to us.”

  “I don’t think you understand why I am here. Let me inform you,” Dick boasted. “I was going to make something of myself. You knew I was your best worker. You trusted me the most and yet you took George Ross under your wing as an apprentice so he could run the bank in the future, after your death.”

  “Andrews, George has a business degree. He is well into his thirties and very experienced with these sorts of things.”

  “You want to know who set that fire?” Dick asked, haughtily.

  “Who?” Fillmore’s wise eyes seemed to already guess.

  “Me!” Dick threatened him with a fire pick he had hidden behind his back. “And if you don’t tell me where that money is, you’re gonna get it! Your business is destroyed and soon you will be, too, old man, if you don’t tell me.”

  “Now, wait just a moment!” Tom raised a hand and then stepped a little closer to Dick, eyes looking straight into his with authority. “You will never know where the money is! I will never tell you as long as I live. And if I die, I will still make sure you don’t know. It is so well hidden, you will never find it. It is a puzzle you would have to piece together, too complicated for you to ever figure out. And furthermore, you will never find it by breaking down one of these walls here or digging in the floors. Now, do we have an understanding?” Fillmore quickly went for something underneath his jacket.

  SEVENTEEN

  Back to the present:

  “But it was too late,” Dick told Zo and Claire. “I got him. I got him, right in the heart with the fireplace pick. And then I had to kill Lilly, even though I didn’t really want to, and her mother, also. I then had the whole mansion to myself. I buried the bodies out here, so no one could ever find out, and lived as a recluse all these years to try and find the money. I spooked away anyone that came near my property, but when you two came I had a feeling you could help me, so I let you be. But I didn’t like all of those guests you had stay the night, so I tried to spook them… And then I had to kill the singer, so that Hillgate would get a spooky reputation. And now, finally, I have my deserved treasure. Finally…”

  “One more question,” asked Zo. “How did you keep people from coming up here and finding out?”

  “That was a worry, and I had to make desperate decisions all at once. I chained and locked the gate. I also left a sign on the gate that said we were wiped out, having lost everything with the bank fire, with an added ‘Please Respect our Privacy!’ I didn’t know how long that would keep people from asking questions. Then the telephone rang, and that is when I became Mr. Fillmore. I imitated his voice and told people my family had joined Loretta’s mother in the West, because I was a devastated man. They understood, and I thanked them and asked to be left alone, a broken man.”

  The old guy took some satisfaction in revealing his genius plan. He had never told anyone but Zo and Claire.

  “It all worked my way,” he continued. “Good luck you might say, because one thing fell in line with another. People were too concerned about their own loss to think any further about Tom. Most attention was centered on the west side of the river, rebuilding, restoring. People came out here to build ugly things away from the city: dumps, recycled metal works, storage, auto junkyards. I let everything grow undisturbed. Even the trees cooperated with me, growing eighty feet and above the roof of the mansion to conceal it from the air.

  “After the stock market crash of ’29, anyone who ever associated with Mr. ‘Rich’ wasn’t even around anymore. He was totally forgotten. I kept the taxes paid on this property as Mr. Fillmore; that is, until this last year. That has been my only mistake… But it worked for my good, because that let your foot in the door when these acres went up for a distressed sale. I don’t take the newspaper. So, I didn’t know about it. Well, I’ve got what I came for over seventy years ago. It’s mine, and you are the only ones who know anything about me. So, I’m sorry, but you can no longer live. ‘Dead men tell no tales,’ as Franklin said.” He jerked the shovel out of Claire’s hands. She had been so enthralled with the story.

  “You greedy, murderous, inhumane geezer!” Zo exclaimed, having no pity for his story. “You waited all of your life. You must be in your nineties, and you waited all of this time to find treasure. What a wasted life!”

  “Leave me alone!” He lifted the shovel. “I am making something of myself! You think that, just because you buy Hillgate, it is all yours. Well, it’s not! It’s mine!”

  In his anger, he dropped his little treasure and held the shovel with both hands, gripping it tightly. He thrust the shovel at Zo, who quickly moved out of the way. Claire grabbed the shovel’s pole and yanked on it, trying to free it from his bony hands. Soon Zo was on his back in the mud. Now, all three of them were pulling on the shovel.

  “He has a death grip on it!” Claire yelled.

  Zo felt a sudden sharp pain on her forearm. It was him, digging his yellow, drippy teeth into her skin. “OW!” Zo kneed him. “Claire! I feel kind of cruel beating up such an old man.”

  “Not old man… old murderer!” Claire said, struggling.

  They rolled and sloshed in the mud, when suddenly they realized Dick wasn’t fighting back anymore. Claire easily yanked the shovel out of his hands. “I got it,” she announced, amazed.

  It was quiet. They looked down at him, lying face down in the mud, not moving. “Is he dead?” Zo asked.

  “There’s only one way to be certain.” Claire rolled over his limp body. His black beady eyes were closed, covered in mud. The purple, protruding veins at his temples didn’t pulse anymore. His see-through, white skin sunk against his skull. “He definitely is dead. Don’t ask me to do mouth to mouth.”

  They both breathed a sigh of relief.

  “That’s it,” Claire stated. “No more surprises for me. I am so glad it’s over.”

  They sat there to breathe in the cool air. Like magic, the storm suddenly stopped, and monstrous clouds moved away from the moon, letting it shine its brightest. The mother and daughter hugged, drenched and tired.

  “I’m glad it’s over, too,” said Zo, “but there is still treasure here somewhere to be found.”

  “I know. I saw him drop something.”

  They glanced over to the hole in the earth left by Dick’s digging. Claire rolled over onto her knees and crawled toward it. It was the top half of a skeleton. “Eew, I just got the willies.”

  Zo rolled over and crawled to it to see. The skeleton was wearing a deteriorated white, lace blouse, exposing her ribcage. The little pearl buttons, like in her painting, remained. “That must have been Lilly,” she concluded.

  The last moments of rain had washed the mud away
from Lilly’s skull. Her cranium was calcified with not a spot of hair remaining. Her hollow eye sockets caused Claire to shiver. Her bones had hairline cracks coursing random journeys, painted in black from dirt over time.

  Claire turned to look Lilly in the ‘eyes’ again. This time she felt something much different. It was strange and unexplainable, but it gave her assurance that Lilly was close by, watching them. She got goosebumps instantly, and the little hairs on the back of her neck rose. Then, with no explanation, she felt peace. “Mom, I think Lilly is happy now.”

  “What?” Zo looked into her daughter’s eyes.

  “I just feel she has a sense of justice being done tonight.”

  “I still feel so bad for her.” Zo couldn’t stop looking into those hollow eyes. “Her family was murdered and she was buried out here, with no casket, to rot in this ground.”

  Moonlight glittered off of something, catching Claire’s attention from the corner of her eyes. She turned to see something round and golden. It was within arm’s reach and she picked it up. “Look at this,” Claire said.

  Zo looked. “Is that the locket from the picture?”

  “Yes, Mother. Sugar and Spice wears everything nice.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  “And look, Mom, there’s a little key on this chain. It must open it.”

  “Well, open it. See what Dick was after all this time.”

  She turned the key at the bottom of the rather large locket, carefully. She felt it click; therefore, she knew she could open it like a little golden door, to reveal the treasure.

  “A diamond!” Claire said, excitedly.

  It dazzled and shined so brightly in the deepness of the night.

  “Ooooh! It’s bea-u-ti-ful!” exclaimed Zo. It had a marquee cut and was the size of a date. “I wonder how many karats it is!”

  “Mother, what will we do with such a find?” She stared at it glittering in the palm of her hand.