The Carlswick Treasure (The Carlswick Mysteries Book 2)

by SL Beaumont

  Immediately to the left a spiral stone staircase climbed upwards. The floor in front of them opened out into an unfurnished circular room. Several boxes of equipment were stacked beside the wall on the far side.

  “Come on up,” Kerry called from the staircase. Stephanie followed her up six levels. At each level they peeked into the main room. There were no lights and the empty spaces were gloomy and cold. The small windows let in very little light.

  “It must have been miserable living here in the winter,” Stephanie commented, running her bare hand along the thick brick wall. It was icy cold, but not damp.

  “Yeah,” Kerry agreed. “Although the walls would have had massive tapestries hanging on them and thick rugs covering the floors, which would have helped insulate it, and these enormous fireplaces would have been in constant use.”

  They were out of breath by the time they reached the top floor.

  “We’re not allowed out onto the roof as it’s too dangerous with the snow, but the view must be amazing,” Kerry said, pointing to the final set of ten stairs at the top of which was a heavy wooden door. Stephanie climbed the stairs to check the door, but it too had a modern deadlock installed. She fingered the heavy metal key in the front pocket of her jeans.

  “Can we go down into the cellars beneath the keep?” Stephanie asked.

  Kerry shook her head. “The engineers haven’t deemed them safe yet, but hopefully by summer we can. I can take you down one of the entrances to the tunnel network off the parapet though. We’re restricted there too until they have assurance that it’s safe and won’t collapse on us.”

  “Great,” Stephanie replied, and started following Kerry back down the winding spiral steps. “I couldn’t imagine climbing these stairs every day in the long heavy dresses that the women used to wear,” she added, as she stumbled and caught herself against the inner wall.

  Stephanie tried to keep her disappointment in check as they left the keep and walked past the enormous Christmas tree dominating the inner courtyard and toward the parapet. Maybe the tunnel here would reveal something. Kerry led the way up the uneven stone stairs onto the parapet walkway. Several metres along one of the previously locked metal gates was open, resting back against the wall. A flight of uneven stone steps led down into the wall itself.

  “Take care, these steps are steep and a little slippery,” Kerry cautioned, unhooking a torch hanging from the gate and switching it on.

  Together they descended the stairs into the gloom, bracing their hands on the walls on either side for support. The light from the flashlight bounced off the walls. At the bottom of the steps a tunnel stretched in front of them made of the same large grey bricks as the parapet walls, but with a concave ceiling and rough stone floor.

  “This is fantastic,” Stephanie said.

  Kerry grinned. “Yeah, it’s such a cool feature. The tunnel runs the whole way through the outer wall and into the hillside. Apparently it has a maze of other tunnels branching from it which lead into the cellars and foundations of the keep and the other buildings which once stood here. But unfortunately we’re not allowed any further than this.” She waved to a man in a hard hat examining the ceiling further down the tunnel.

  Stephanie nodded and swallowed her frustration.

  On the way out Kerry took her along a low section of the outer wall. “I wanted to show you this. Often when castles and forts were under siege, sympathisers on the outside would use spy holes to pass information to those holed up inside. We found a leather pouch dating from around 1585 in this one. See it’s only half a brick, leaving the compartment behind it empty.” She carefully prised the half brick from the wall.

  Stephanie crouched beside her and peered into the hole. “Cool—that would have been dangerous,” she said.

  “For sure. The spies often used kids to sneak up and leave the messages. It must have worked, because this castle was never once in its history taken by force,” Kerry said, replacing the brick.

  “How many of these are there?” Stephanie asked as her mind raced.

  “Only two at Carlswick Castle that we know of, but of course there could be more,” Kerry replied.

  They walked back to the car park. There was no sign of the security guards, although Stephanie could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising, as though she was being watched.

  “Thanks so much for the tour. That was fascinating,” she said to Kerry as she climbed into her grandmother’s Fiat.

  “We’re off for New Year but back mid-January I believe, so maybe we can catch up then?” Kerry replied.

  “Let’s do that,” Stephanie said, waving as she drove away.

  “Letter for a spy,” she murmured. “Letter for a spy delivered to Carlswick Castle.”

  * * *

  “We’re heading back up to London tomorrow. I thought I would take Toby to see the Tower of London, the dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum and for a ride on the London Eye. Would you like to come with us?” Marie asked later that afternoon as Stephanie helped her fold a large pile of washing in the laundry room.

  “I’d love to. Are we going to get the train?” Stephanie asked.

  “Max is driving back up to the City, so we can get a lift with him and then catch the tube,” Marie replied.

  Stephanie paused. “Ah… Mum. I’ve been um, wanting to ask, to talk to you about Dad.”

  Marie sighed and then smiled. “I thought you might. Shall we talk in your room?” She put down the t-shirt that she was folding.

  Stephanie nodded and led the way.

  “What is it that you want to know, sweetheart?” Marie asked once she was seated on the little sofa with the door closed.

  “Why did we not come back to London when Dad did?”

  Marie took a deep breath. “It was complicated. I was hurt that being with me wasn’t enough for your father. Selfish and foolishly romantic, I know. My mother was ill with cancer and I didn’t want to leave her. Your father and I argued and said things that neither of us could or would back down from.”

  “But you must have sorted that out, because the first time I remember visiting him in London I must have been five or six?” Stephanie asked.

  “Yeah, we did sort out a way to make sure that he would be involved in your life, but by the time we had forgiven each other for all the horrible things that we’d said, you were settled in school and I fervently believed that a childhood running around barefoot, going to the beach and playing outside was best for you, and you wouldn’t have had that in London. And, as you know, I nursed Mum for several years before she died—I couldn’t have left her.”

  “Oh, Mum,” Stephanie said. “But you still loved him.”

  Marie smiled. “Yes. But I had to move on. Seeing Max twice a year just wasn’t enough, but I wasn’t going to get more. I realised when you were around twelve that I had unintentionally put my life on hold and that wasn’t right either. That’s when I met Peter.”

  “I feel disloyal to Pete saying this, but you and Dad are really good together,” Stephanie said.

  “Now, don’t go getting any ideas, I am married to Pete, happily,” Marie said.

  “Yeah, but you’re still attracted to Dad, aren’t you, and he is to you?” Stephanie persisted.

  “Perhaps, but we’re just friends now,” Marie said. “Speaking of which, have you spoken with James yet?” she asked, deftly changing the subject.

  Stephanie groaned. “Yes, but he doesn’t want to know. He says that it was good to find out now that I didn’t trust him, before things went any further.”

  “Don’t give up on him just yet,” Marie advised. “Men can be such stubborn creatures.”

  “Tell me about it,” Stephanie agreed.

  “Sweetie, try to remember that the joy of being in love makes all the hurt in the world worthwhile,” Marie said, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “I wish I could protect you from the pain, but without it, you wouldn’t appreciate the pleasure.”

  Chapter 21
/>   Evening, Thursday 29th December

  Stephanie cornered her father leaving the dining room after dinner. He had been in London all day and had arrived home just as they were sitting down to eat.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said.

  He was immediately serious and studied her face. “Now?”

  “If you can?” she replied.

  He led her into the kitchen and closed the door.

  “What’s up?”

  “Alex called me,” she said.

  “When?” Max asked. She could tell that he was carefully controlling his voice, but his grip on the bench gave him away.

  “Late last night,” she said. “No caller ID. It was blocked.”

  “What did he want?” Max’s voice was cold.

  “You know that treasure map I found…” she started.

  “What? You mean that old thing is real?”

  “Yes, and apparently Charles Knox reused it to hide some rare jewellery that some wealthy Europeans gave him when he got them out of Germany at the start of the war, but his dementia means that he can’t remember where,” Stephanie explained.

  “Okay. Tell me exactly what he said. We are going to have to talk to Marks and get that call traced.”

  “Already on it, I phoned him this morning and they are trying to trace the call,” Stephanie replied, before proceeding to take him through the conversation with Alex.

  “Have you talked to James about this?”

  “Sort of, he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t really want to talk to me. Alex set the whole thing up with that girl. His drink was spiked. I didn’t trust him enough to believe him, Dad, so he has every right to be annoyed with me,” she said.

  “Marks will want to talk to him,” Max said. “Can you make sense of the map?”

  “We only have half of it,” she reminded him. “Matt, Michael and I have been trying to solve the clues on it, but nothing conclusive yet—although Alex clearly wants it.”

  “I should probably take a look too.”

  Stephanie nodded. “Dad, can I ask you something else?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why have you never remarried?”

  Max looked slightly startled by the question. “Ah,” he hesitated. “Well.” Then he grinned. “Your mother was too hard an act to follow.”

  Stephanie returned his smile, thoughtfully studying his face. “Y’know, I always hoped you’d get back together.”

  Max started towards the kitchen door, signalling an end to the conversation. “So did I,” he murmured.

  Stephanie looked at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Toby came barrelling into the room at that moment and attached himself to Stephanie’s side. She smiled fondly at the little boy and ruffled his hair.

  Max took the opportunity of Toby’s distraction to make a quick exit. “This conversation isn’t over, Dad,” she called after him, only half-teasing.

  “I think you’ll find it is, my dear,” he replied as he walked down the hall towards the sitting room.

  Turning her attention to her little brother, she asked “What’s up, mate?” as he led her from the room for his bedtime story.

  Once Toby was settled, Stephanie slipped into her own bedroom. She curled up on her sofa with her notebook and added the words ‘Carlswick Castle spy holes’ next to the line ‘letter for a spy’. She sighed as she read over their findings. Either they had completely misread the clues or she was missing something. They really needed the other half of the map. Swallowing her pride, she tapped a message to James.

  Any idea where Alex may have hidden the other half of the old map, if he found it? S

  She tucked her notebook into her bag and crawled into bed, her mind drifting to the jewellery that Alex had mentioned. She did a few Internet searches on her iPad and discovered that a number of important pieces of Renaissance jewellery hadn’t been seen in public since the war, but many commentators believed that this was because they were now in private collections. How they got there, of course, was another story. She phoned Michael before switching off the light.

  “I think I know what all of the lines of the poem on the map mean,” she said, and explained about the spy holes that Kerry had shown her.

  “So what now?” he asked.

  “Dunno. I’ve asked James if he can think of anywhere that Alex may have left the Knox half of the map but he hasn’t replied. I feel frustrated that we are at a dead end,” she said.

  “Well, maybe we weren’t meant to find anything. Maybe it was just a game.”

  “No. Alex doesn’t play games. I don’t want to sit back and wait for his next move. We have to do something, I’m just not sure at the moment what that is.”

  Chapter 22

  Friday 30th December

  Stephanie was still half asleep when they left Carlswick at daybreak. How Toby could be wide awake and so excited first thing, was beyond her early morning comprehension. She slipped into the back seat of her father’s car and propped the pillow that she had brought for the journey against the door. She rested her head against it and closed her eyes. Lulled by the rock of the car and the murmur of her parents’ voices from the front seat, she found that the nights of sleeplessness finally caught up with her and she drifted into a blissful sleep. She woke just as they drove into the car park beneath her father’s office building.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty—we’re here,” Max said, leaning back and shaking her leg gently.

  “Yeah, Stephie, we’re here,” Toby shouted.

  Stephanie forced her eyes open. “Okay—but Dad, can I use your ladies room?” she asked, grabbing her bag off the seat beside her. Marie had come around to the opposite rear passenger door and was helping Toby from his car seat.

  “Of course,” replied Max. “You head on up and I’ll get us all coffee. You look like you need it,” he added. “See you in the foyer shortly.” Stephanie stuck her tongue out at him and headed for the lift.

  She spent ten minutes in the ladies room trying to tame her sleep-messed hair and applied her make up for the day. She studied her skin in the mirror and frowned. It was looking a little dull, red in places and she was certain she could feel a zit on its way.

  Max, Marie and Toby were seated in armchairs in the spacious foyer of Cooper & Reynold Law sipping their drinks. Toby had a babycino complete with a pile of marshmallows which he was happily munching on when Stephanie joined them. Max pushed a takeout coffee cup towards her across the low coffee table between the chairs.

  “You look almost human,” he quipped. Stephanie glowered at him.

  “Not a morning girl, are you, sweetheart?” Marie agreed.

  The foyer was busy with office workers arriving. Many stopped at the little coffee shop situated on one side of the entrance to grab their morning fix before heading to the lifts at the back of the light and airy ground floor. A large reception desk dominated the centre, attended by three smartly dressed young women wearing headsets. They answered telephone calls and greeted the new arrivals with a smile.

  “I think you are best to start with the Tower since you are this close,” Max suggested. He looked at his watch. “You’ll get there for opening and should go straight to see the Crown Jewels because there will be no queues this early. It gets busy later in the day, even at this time of year.”

  “Good idea. And then we’ll catch a boat down to the London Eye,” Marie said, standing. “Thanks for the coffee, Max. What time would you like us back for the return trip to Carlswick?”

  “Say four o’clock, unless Toby is exhausted earlier. You can always stop by my place if he needs a rest—Stephanie has keys,” Max replied.

  They said their goodbyes and walked out into the cool winter’s morning. Stephanie wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck and pulled a pair of gloves out of her jacket pocket.

  Max was correct. They were so early that there were no queues at the Tower of London. Once they had purchased their tickets they crossed the bridge over what would have o
nce been the moat, but was now beautifully manicured grass running right up to the sand-coloured brickwork of the outer wall. They crossed beneath the portcullis, marvelling at the sharp spikes of the latticed metal grill that hung above their heads. Toby stopped to look up at the murder holes, where soldiers could have poured boiling oil or dropped rocks on enemies who got that far into the castle. They paused to listen to one of the famous red-suited Beefeaters.

  “This here is Traitor’s Gate where illustrious prisoners such as Queen Anne Boleyn and Sir Thomas Moore entered the Tower for the last time.”

  They kept to the cobbled path and passing the large square keep in the centre of the castle complex, found the entrance to the Crown Jewels exhibition. Stepping onto a moving walkway, they were slowly transported past the jewels that were displayed in thick glass cases. Visitors were unable to stop and linger, thereby alleviating any potential overcrowding.

  “Aren’t they just amazing,” Marie gushed as she and Stephanie studied the Imperial State Crown with its many diamonds and large rubies, sapphires and emeralds. They were less impressed with a somewhat misshapen gold spoon, until they read that it was the Coronation Spoon and was over eight hundred years old. The size of the diamond in the Sovereign’s Sceptre took their breath away. They read that several of the crowns had been reset using the stones from older ones that had disintegrated over time.

  Toby, however, was less than impressed, especially after a second turn along the moving walkway. “Come on, I want to see the swords and armour,” he said, tugging at Marie’s hand to hurry her along.

  Stephanie took a last look at the precious gemstones, her thoughts drifting to what she had read the previous evening about the Renaissance jewellery that had disappeared in Germany. Many of those pieces would most likely have been broken up now and the stones sold separately or reset as new jewellery. She wondered if Alex had considered that in his quest for the jewels. Perhaps old Charles hadn’t hidden anything at all. Perhaps he had sold the stones and simply forgotten.