Murder on the Brewster Flats

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  I held her hands and promised to get together with her again before Camille and I returned home to New York.

  Turning to Albert, I motioned to an aluminum ladder Jack had set against the barn after I’d showed him the rotten wooden rungs on the old wobbly contraption we’d climbed the day before. “We’ll need that. I don’t know how much more weight the wooden one will bear.”

  Robbie and Beckett each took an end and we got it set up in the hole in the barn floor. Albert peered down into the void. “So, this is how you escaped?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. The first time on my own, and the second time with Camille and Mason.”

  He readjusted the ladder’s angle slightly. “There. Now it won’t tip back when we climb down.”

  Albert and Robbie wore headlamps. Beckett carried an oversized flashlight, and I held the handle of a high-powered lantern.

  “Let’s go.” I climbed down first, holding the lantern light on the ladder so the men could safely descend.

  Albert’s eyes shone brightly in anticipation. Beckett seemed subdued, but willing to help. Robbie was harder to read, and I thought I saw the glint of perspiration on his forehead when he climbed down the ladder.

  When everyone was on the ground, I turned and faced them. “Are we good to go?”

  Robbie’s eyes practically rolled back in his head when the panic hit him. He clutched the ladder, and glanced wildly at the light up top. His head swung nervously back toward the unlit passage. “I don’t know if I can go back in there.”

  Albert took his arm. “Son? Do you want to go back?”

  The young man stopped and shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Just a momentary panic attack.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ve been waiting all my life to see this treasure, and I want to find those gold crosses, Grandpa.”

  I waited until he stood straighter and motioned me to lead the way. “I’m okay now. Come on, let’s go.”

  Beckett strode beside me, while Albert and Robbie fell behind. After a few minutes of fast walking, I realized we’d been moving too fast. Both Robbie and Albert had just been released from the hospital and probably needed to slow down.

  I smiled over my shoulder to encourage them, and then touched Beckett’s sleeve. “Let’s slow down a little,” I whispered.

  He understood and went to half-speed instantly, matching my pace. “Whatever we find,” he said, “it’s all going to Jane and Mason. I don’t want any of it.”

  I met his eyes. “Because of McNabb and the family history?”

  “Exactly.” He lowered his eyes. “From what I learned, all of this treasure that’s been hoarded down here for centuries came from violence. Stealing. Murder. Destruction of families. And the terrible hatred that was encouraged over the years between our families…it’s so disgusting.” He looked up with a haunted expression in his eyes. “My ancestors did that. And I’m so ashamed.”

  “You may be related to them by blood,” I said. “But you aren’t responsible for their actions.”

  He hung his head and let out a long sigh. “I know. But I want to do good with it, you know? I want to help save their home. I want a college fund for Mason. Do you think that’s going to be possible?”

  I thought about it. I really had no idea how much the items were worth, but if I had to guess, I’d say it would be between a quarter and half million dollars. “I believe you’ll be in good shape. It should pay for your college, too.”

  We’d reached the fifth tunnel.

  I paused, waiting for the others to catch up. Even though we’d cut our pace in half, both men were still out of breath. I was glad they’d have a chance to rest. “We’re here,” I said. “This is where we found Mason in the chamber behind the secret door.”

  Albert coughed, and then leaned on Robbie. “Just need to catch my breath. Won’t be a second.”

  Robbie checked Albert’s pulse. “Grandpa. Did you take your pills this morning?”

  “I did.” Albert waved him away. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one we should worry about.”

  I had to admit, Robbie still looked pale as ever and seemed very frail. In hindsight, I wondered if I’d been smart to take them both down into the tunnels again.

  Robbie straightened. “I’ll be fine in time. I’ve just got to get my strength back. But that won’t happen overnight.”

  Albert accepted this. “Okay. Lead the way, Gus.”

  I turned into the tunnel. “This way, gents.”

  Chapter 41

  “This is where it all starts.” I swept my hand along the line of treasure chests I’d investigated the first time I’d been here. “If the diary’s description of the Cook’s treasure is right, these chests of jewels are probably from some other pirate raids. There is gold, silver, and jewels galore, but no gold crosses.” I began to open the lids, letting the men blink and stare and remark about the contents.

  We examined the jewelry, the old books, the ivory figurines, the historic costumes, the books, the steins, and the rest of it until we came to the altar table and velvet drapes that hung on either side.

  I retrieved the key for what I believed to be Zebediah’s chest, slowly opening it to show the men the toy soldiers inside. “The initials are ZDC.” I pointed to the gold letters on the chest. “Did Reverend Cook’s middle name start with a D?”

  “It was Daniel. This has to be his trunk.” Robbie studied the soldiers. “I think they’re made of lead,” he said. “But if the diary was right, this isn’t what Zebediah Cook brought over from England. Someone put these in here after they emptied the treasure.”

  “We know what the records say. Most of the treasure was gold, and it was melted down by that blacksmith. But that trunk is a family heirloom. We need to bring it out with us today.” Albert peered around the table, looking under the drapes, and feeling along the surface of the wall. “I’m looking for the catch for this secret door. How the heck does this thing open, anyway?”

  Beckett stepped back and studied it. “Gus? Can you clue us in?”

  I snapped back to attention, for I’d been thinking of poor Zebediah and his murdered wife. He and I had some history in common, because my dear Elsbeth had been murdered, too. I still experienced intermittent waves of grief, in spite of the fact that I’d lost her years ago. The heavy blanket of sorrow that had wrapped around my heart began to lessen when I realized Zebediah had also found salvation in another woman’s love. I’d found Camille, and he’d found Sarah. Somehow, we’d both survived.

  I strode toward the left wall. “It’s this sconce.” I twisted it, and the big door began to swing open.

  Albert led the way this time, followed closely by Robbie. Beckett and I dragged the table over to hold the door open. I’d never had a chance to locate the release catch on the inside of the chamber, and had this horrible fear about being locked in forever with the blacksmith’s bones.

  I played the lantern’s light across the ad-hoc nursery that Marla had set up with the playpen, supply of diapers and food, child’s lamp, etc. All three men stared in disbelief at what lay before them. In hindsight, I realized how terribly disturbing it really was. When Camille and I had found it, we were just so happy to recover little Mason that the impact of the weirdness hadn’t struck me. But here was a transplanted underground nursery meant for how long? A few weeks? Forever? I tried not to imagine little Mason actually stuck down here, living out his life in the dim glow of a lamp, his only companion a woman who would probably end up feeding him some kind of psychedelic brew.

  There was no doubt about it. Marla had been one truly mad woman.

  “Whoa,” Beckett said. “She planned to keep my son down here, didn’t she? Even brought down my old Winnie the Pooh lamp.” He ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “Geez. Talk about creepy.”

  Robbie agreed. “It looks like she planned to live down here for a long time. Or at least for the baby to live down here while she went about her usual life up in the mansion.”

  Albert sank onto
a chair. “To think what might have happened to my little Mason.” He laid his head in his hands. “It’s just horrible.”

  I went to his side. “But we found him, and he’s safe with Jane now.” I turned to Beckett and Robbie. “And she can’t hurt anyone ever again. She’s gone.”

  The mood seemed to shift. Albert nodded, pulled himself together, and stood. “Okay. Let’s go see Mr. Rubin Knight.”

  Robbie took his grandfather’s arm and the three men followed me further into the long chamber. “I can’t imagine his last days. Especially if he were closed in here alive.”

  Beckett’s voice turned somber. “I know what that’s like. She used to lock me in down here. And she’d shut off the lights sometimes when she was really mad.”

  Albert and I exchanged a glance. We’d been in those cells where Beckett had languished. It had only been for a few hours, but it wasn’t hard to imagine days or in the case of Mr. Knight, weeks imprisoned in the darkness. I still thanked God for Beckett’s ingenuity, for his clever means of hiding the key to the room in which I was locked. If he hadn’t done that, I’d probably still be down there.

  I set the lantern on a shelf near the bones of Mr. Knight. “Here he is, poor fella.”

  Albert whistled. “What the heck? Why’s he strung up like this?”

  Robbie leaned down to study the remains. “I’ll bet it was to warn off anyone who dared to come in here. To keep them back from the real treasure.” He fingered the cloth and examined the rib cage. “He was stabbed for sure. Probably with a sword or heavy dagger.”

  Exactly what I’d thought.

  Robbie continued. “But I don’t think he would have survived this type of wound for long. He probably died instantly. And they set the body up as a warning, like I said.”

  Beckett let out a long sigh. “Phew. At least he didn’t die from starvation.”

  After a few moments of silence, I stepped back and motioned toward the other end of the chamber. “Ready to move on, gentlemen?”

  My pulse began to quicken. I’d seen something glinting in the light yesterday, and had wondered if it could possibly be the gold crosses.

  We moved forward steadily, suddenly stopping four abreast, staring at a collection that winked and sparkled in the light.

  Our world changed from a dirt-walled chamber to a magnificent vault filled with Egyptian treasures.

  “No way,” Beckett said.

  Albert’s mouth dropped open.

  Robbie’s head cocked to one side and confusion filled his eyes.

  I blinked hard and swallowed. Could this be real?

  Before us lay an opulent collection of Egyptian antiquities. Squat ceramic lidded urns, gem-studded gold statues, black onyx figures of cat-like creatures, and gilt boxes of treasure crammed the area.

  Robbie was the first to note the gas lamps on the walls. “Anyone have a lighter?”

  I didn’t think any of the men smoked, but Albert surprised me and drew a box of matches out of his pocket. “Never know when your lights will go out. Brought these just in case. Here you go.”

  Robbie lit two lamps on either side of the chamber, and now we realized it was more like a mini-cavern than the last few feet of a dirt-walled room. It grew from a thirty-foot wide room to a round, spherical vault, one hundred feet in diameter.

  Now the contents sparkled with renewed energy, almost blinding in their brilliance.

  Albert was the first to step inside and examine the items, still muttering about the gold crosses. He approached a full sized golden figure of a lion’s body reclining on a rectangular gold pedestal. The lion had the head of a ram with curled horns and an air of distinct superiority. On either side of it stood two full-sized human-like statues of what I assumed were Egyptian gods. They stood proud with well-developed perfectly muscled bodies. One of the heads was a keen-eyed falcon. The second was a skinny dog-like head with tall, pointy ears. I wondered which gods they represented and decided to look them up later.

  Robbie followed his grandfather, striding toward a golden throne chair. “Look at this.” He leaned forward and gently ran his fingers down the legs, which ended in clawed feet. Its arms were carved into fine gold rods that terminated in dogs’ heads. The back of the chair depicted an elaborate scene with inlaid red and blue stones showing a king and queen dining at a laden table.

  Soon all of us were wandering through the treasures, picking up objects reverently and opening boxes to peer at scarab jewelry, bottles of sacred oils, golden bowls, gold chalices, and mountains of gold chains.

  I lifted the lid of a square metal box trimmed in gold and stepped back in surprise. The box was filled with gold coins. “Whoa. Look at this, Beckett.”

  He joined me and stared in wonder at the treasure. “Unbelievable.” He gestured to one wall and ran toward it. “And look at these.”

  I followed him to a collection of ten-foot high columns set up on their own pedestals against the cavern wall. Each was uniquely decorated with stripes and zigzag patterns of bright blue, red, and gold. Some showed painted scenes with stick figure-like human figures and animals. The columns stretched straight up and ended in a fan-like shape at the top where they curved out to form elaborate tops.

  I just stood and stared, overwhelmed by the intricate beauty of each one.

  “Where in the world did this come from?” I examined one of the black sphinxlike cat figures who wore a collar of rubies and whose eyes sparked with sapphires.

  Robbie straightened and turned to me. “I think I know. During my research of the McNabbs and all the reported piracies in the past few centuries, I remember one particular ship that was reported missing in 1877. It was bound for the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, which had just been incorporated, and contained Egyptian artifacts from a recent discovery of a young king’s tomb in Luxor.”

  “Like King Tut?” Beckett asked.

  “Yes. But it wasn’t Tut, it was another, discovered years earlier. No one ever knew what happened to the ship, except that it disappeared somewhere between Egypt and Boston.”

  I scanned the room again, awestruck. “Well, if this is from that ship, now the world will have some answers.”

  Beckett held up a finger. “But wait. If this ship was overtaken in 1876, that means Tooly McNabb’s descendants—and my ancestors—continued with this pirating legacy even a hundred years after Tooly was involved.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t believe they got away with it for all those years. A whole century.”

  “At least.” Albert dropped onto his knees before a golden-filigreed settee. “But it still doesn’t answer the million dollar question. Where’s our family treasure? Where are the dag-blamed gold crosses?” He ran his fingers down the delicate legs, tracing the arms that ended with cats’ heads of black onyx and gold leaf.

  Robbie went to his side, setting one hand on his shoulder. “We’ll keep looking, Grandpa. Don’t lose hope.”

  Beckett picked up a blue and gold armband inlaid with orange and turquoise stones. With one finger, he outlined the design of an almond-shaped eye on its side. “This stuff has to go to the museum. I’m going to contact them as soon as we get back.”

  I agreed and knelt before a gold urn. Its surface looked silky smooth, and its shape was reminiscent of a woman’s form. I knew I probably shouldn’t be touching anything, but I couldn’t help myself and gently stroked its smooth side. A thrill ran up my spine. “This discovery’s going to rock the world. But it’s also going to bring them to your doorstep. You’ll be overrun with the media. People will flock to the site to see if they can catch a glimpse of the find. And it’d be really easy for someone to break in down here and take things.” I stood up and began to pace. “The story of your parents’ deaths will also become very public. Much more so than ‘another hurricane tragedy,’ Beckett. It’ll go viral.”

  Robbie stroked his chin. “Gus is right. We’re going to have to orchestrate this very carefully if you want to keep the other treasures safe. I think
maybe we should move those chests into another wing of the tunnel until the museum is done evacuating the Egyptian finds.”

  Beckett sank to a carved stone bench. “I don’t think I can handle all this. It’s too much.”

  I thought about what the poor young man had been through. The past few years of being raised by a woman with Munchhausen by Proxy Syndrome would be enough to traumatize anyone for years. Add to that the murder of his father (which he still didn’t know about, I realized), his mother’s fiery death, the total destruction of his family home, and now the historic discovery of innumerable treasures in the tunnels…it would be enough to immobilize anyone. And on top of all this, soon he’d have to plan his parents’ funerals, a task no one finds easy.

  “We’ll get you through this,” I said. “You’ve got plenty of people who can help now. We’re not going anywhere.” I realized that the next few weeks of hoped-for-vacation time lounging on the beach or frolicking in the sea had probably just flown out the window. Beckett needed us, and I knew Camille would readily agree to help him maneuver his way through the complicated future he faced.

  Robbie and Albert added their support, promising to assist wherever needed.

  “Thank you.” Beckett glanced up, shuddering. His glance went from me to Robbie and finally to Albert. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

  Chapter 42

  Later that afternoon, I sat with Beckett on the bench overlooking the ocean on Paines Creek Beach. The police had finally responded to Camille’s calls when we were busy in the tunnels. They’d removed the bodies and endlessly questioned Camille and Jane. Camille promised we’d contact them with more information when we surfaced. They said normally we’d be asked to come down to the station to give our statements, but with the condition the village was in, it wouldn’t be possible. They’d come back when we notified them.

  “So,” Beckett said. “Tell me what happened to my father. I know you’re holding back.”

  I grimaced. “We tried to spare you the shock of it during such a difficult day. I planned to tell you, once things settled down.”