In the Cards: A Novel (Tricia Seaver Mystery Book 1)

by Amy Isaman

  He rubbed the day-old scruff on his chin. “Perhaps, but I don’t think so. Remember she says that the cards can be found, and I doubt she would have ever wanted anyone disturbing her daughter’s final resting place.”

  Relief flooded through me. “Oh, you’re right. She didn’t make this easy, that’s for sure.”

  Tori pointed to the card that still lay on the table between us. “Are you going to take this to the museum? At least let them start the authentication process. They’d definitely be interested in it.” She turned to me. “This is a huge find. In fact, I’m not sure I can express how huge it is. This card is priceless.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “He’ll need your help as well. In some way, you’re linked to this.” She paused, took a deep breath, and her eyes seemed to darken a shade.

  I glanced at the window to see if the sun went behind a cloud. It hadn’t, and my tummy flipped. Her eyes changed just then. Somehow.

  “He won’t find them without you, Tricia. I’m not sure why, but I get that. Wait one moment.” She sauntered from the room and returned with a small piece of paper. “Here’s my mobile number. Send me the picture of your spread from yesterday. I’d like to revisit it.”

  When I took the paper from her hand, she wrapped both of her hands around mine and squeezed, staring into my eyes. “I can help you with this.” The intensity of her gaze alarmed me.

  “Thanks,” I nodded, squeezing back. I wasn’t sure I wanted to send her the image of our reading, but if it could help Darius, maybe I would.

  Darius stood. “We’d best be going if you’re going to make your date for the theater this evening.” He gave Tori a hug and expressed his thanks.

  “Let me know how it’s going. I’d love to help.” She held his hand tightly as she spoke.

  “I will. And, on that note, Tori, let’s keep this quiet for now. I know you understand the need for discretion with this kind of find.”

  She nodded sagely, still holding his hand. “Of course. Not a word. But when you do go public and announce it to the world, I’d like to be there. This is truly incredible. To think, this treasure has been at the Inn for your entire life, and we didn’t even know it.”

  He finally extracted himself, and I followed him down the stairs to the street.

  “Perhaps I should have warned you,” Darius said, grinning as we strolled down the street away from her apartment. “Tori can be a little intense.”

  “Yeah, I got that yesterday during our reading.”

  “Ah, we go way back. She’s, well, she’s Tori. A good friend who enjoys art and antiquities.” He stopped walking and turned to me, his eyes intense and focused completely on me. “What do you suppose the next step should be?”

  “Well, Tori said that the Knight of Coins could have been a lover or someone she had great respect for. I think you’ll need to ask your great-aunt about that. As for the Devil and the Three of Swords? I have no idea.”

  He nodded. “I’ll set that up. I want my cousin to be there, too. She’ll be stunned to learn that the cards still exist. What about your friend? The one who might be able to translate the letter.”

  “Right. I’ll send him a text. I’m supposed to meet with him before the conference, but I get the feeling that you don’t want to wait.”

  “I’d rather not. What are your plans for tomorrow or the day after? Perhaps we could see your friend if he’s available? And possibly my aunt as well. She lives in a lovely little village about an hour’s drive from here. I know you’ve got plans, but you and Laurel might enjoy the visit to the countryside.”

  “That sounds fun. I’ll talk to Laurel tonight.”

  Chapter 13

  THE NEXT MORNING, the card tucked safely in his bag, Darius waited for Tricia in the Inn’s front room. She’d agreed to take him to visit her friend Collin who could hopefully help with the letter’s translation. Darius knew plenty of art collectors and academics, but he trusted Tricia’s judgment, especially when it came to these damn cards. He’d also talked to his cousin, Susan, and aunt the night before, but Susan wouldn’t be able to meet with them as soon as he hoped which meant he and Tricia would have some time to figure this out on their own.

  Tricia walked into the room and smiled. She looked good. No, not good. Great. Her sundress showed off her great legs and curves, and unlike most women he had relationships with, she seemed quite oblivious to how goddamn sexy she was.

  “You ready for this?” she asked.

  “Yes. Are you? Because apparently I can’t find these cards without you.”

  “Seriously? You agree with Tori and think I have some sort of magical power to find the cards?” Tricia laughed as she said this. Somehow, she found the first card though he looked for the damn things for years. His cousin, Susan, looked too, and neither of them ever found anything.

  He smiled back at her. “Yes, actually I do, but more than that, I’d like to spend the day with you.” God, he hadn’t been that honest with a woman in years. Where had that come from? But it was the truth. The whole thing was impossible. She was an American guest at his Inn who would be heading home to the other side of the world in a week, but something about her drew him in a way that he couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was her thick hair, her curves. He’d take her heavy breasts in his hands over a waiflike marathon runner any day.

  As Darius drove toward Collin’s house, he considered the letter. He honestly had no idea what the letter said or revealed though he felt strongly that it would reference the tarot cards. He’d spent the evening researching and managed to discover that there were very few early decks that were complete. More astonishing, the four cards that Anna Teresa named in her note were the four cards that Tori said had never been located from the Visconti-Sforza deck, a deck that was commissioned to celebrate Bianca Visconti’s wedding to Francesco Sforza in 1441.

  That was almost six hundred years ago. They were lost, but now one were found. Like the prodigal son. The value on this single card, if it could be authenticated, would be huge. And if they could find the others?

  A half-an-hour later, Darius parked his car at the end of the block and he and Tricia approached Collin’s modest home. It was in the outskirts of London, in one of the myriad suburbs that sprang up through the past years. Darius knocked on the door, but nobody came. He checked his watch. They were on time for their appointment with Collin.

  He knocked again and heard soft footsteps. Tricia stood next to him, her brown hair framed around her face in soft waves.

  The door opened to reveal a tall, thin gentleman with curly, brown hair surrounding his head like a halo. He looked nothing like Darius imagined. Collin’s eyes instantly focused on Tricia.

  “Tricia, hello.” He gave her a hug before turning to Darius. “And you must be her friend.” His voice was surprisingly deep and strong. “Do come in.”

  “Collin, this is Darius Marin,” Tricia said. “My um, er… friend,” she finished, her voice dropping as her ears reddened.

  Darius grinned to himself as they stepped across the threshold. A blast of freezing cold air blowing down the narrow hallway greeted them as they followed Collin into a sitting room. Collin directed Darius to a stiff wingback chair and sat on the couch next to Tricia.

  “Let’s get right to it, shall we? What have you brought?” The walls held pictures of a smiling family, so Darius wasn’t too sure about Collin’s intentions, and judging from Tricia’s body language, this man posed no threat. Darius felt himself relax as he pulled his journal from his bag. He’d tucked the letter inside, hoping to protect it. What it needed was a conservator and a climate-controlled environment, especially if it was as old as his gut told him it was, but the journal was the best he could do for now.

  “It’s a letter we discovered. It’s old and written in Italian. I have no idea if the dialect is something that you might be able to decipher, but Tricia suggested that you might be able to translate it for me.” Darius set the journal on the table between them and opened it up to the letter. />
  Tricia leaned in, studying it. “Be careful. It might not even unfold without tearing.”

  After a brief visual study of the letter as it lay on the table, Collin stood and left the room without speaking, returning in a few moments wearing some white gloves.

  He picked it up and ever so gently tried to unfold it. He couldn’t, the paper creased and fragile. “This will need some humidification to be able to flatten out,” he said.

  “Can you do that?” Darius asked.

  “Yes, I can. In the lab at the University.” He gently separated the three, thin pages. Because they remained folded, he could only look at half the letter, one side of each sheet. It also meant that Darius would need to involve a paper conservator who could humidify them.

  Collin held one sheet close to his eyes and read silently, while they waited.

  Several times he looked toward the ceiling, deep in thought, before turning the page over or setting one down and getting another, his eyes crinkled in concentration. The writer had filled both sides of each page with a tiny script. It looked like a feminine hand to Darius, but then he’d never studied the penmanship of Renaissance Italians.

  He finally broke the silence. “This is old and written in quite a formal hand and dialect. There are also some faded parts that are essentially illegible. With the right equipment, we might be able to decipher it, but not here.”

  Darius nodded, knowing full well that the letter needed full paper conservation resources. But that meant turning it over to either a museum, Collin at the University, or a private conservator. The fewer people who knew about this find, the better, until it could be secured, but here he was, traipsing about London with a beautiful woman showing it to perfect strangers.

  “Can you translate any of it?” Darius asked.

  “I can get the gist of it. Can you tell me anything about where you got it? That might help.”

  Darius dreaded this question but also expecting it. “I found it in a piece of furniture at my Inn.”

  “So, you don’t know anything about it? Was there anything with the letter?”

  He looked expectant as if he knew about the card. He’d been so kind that Darius hated to lie, but for some reason, revealing the tarot card’s existence to anyone else felt too risky, especially considering Anna Teresa’s letter with the riddle. “No, just that tucked into the panel inside a wardrobe.”

  “Hmmm. That’s interesting because the writer mentions the carte de triumphi which were originally what they called what we know today as tarot cards. It actually mentions four cards. It also mentions Bianca Maria Visconti. The writer refers to her as her mistress.” He paused, studying the letter again. “If that’s actually true, and the writer served the Visconti-Sforza family, then this letter is from the latter part of the 15th century.” He leaned back. “It’s quite a piece of history.”

  Tricia gasped softly at Collin’s words, her eyes wide. He just confirmed what they’d speculated about. Darius had already learned that she was as good at hiding her emotions as the sky was at hiding the weather. He found it charming. Most of the women he knew showed only the emotions they wished to share, which was not necessarily what they were feeling.

  “We really don’t know anything else,” Darius lied. But he did know that if this letter was really from the 15th century, it was very likely that the card Tricia found was one of the oldest tarot cards known to exist.

  Collin set the first page down and lifted the second with the utmost tenderness.

  Darius studied him while he read, a million questions flitting through his mind, but he held back, giving Collin the silence he needed to translate the piece.

  Finally, Collin set the letter down and removed his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “This sheet is more difficult.” He pointed to several extremely faded spots. “However, it sounds as if the writer hid this letter with several of the carte de triumphi. There is a prayer of purification, and I get the sense that she felt the cards were evil. Do you have any idea of the letter’s origination point?”

  Darius shook his head. “Other than Italy, no. I was hoping that it might have said that.”

  “Well, it alludes to a convent, and if the writer was in fact a servant to the Visconti-Sforza’s, I believe it would have been somewhere near Milan, but I don’t recall the history exactly or where Bianca Maria Visconti-Sforza died. I’d guess it would have been near that location. It’s actually quite fascinating. And, as I’m sure you’ve deduced, this letter might be quite valuable if it can be authenticated. I’d love for you to get this into a paper conservator as soon as possible in order to prevent any further degradation to the quality. As you know, these sheets really should be handled with care.”

  “Yes. I agree, but we wanted to speak with you first,” Darius said. A conservator meant more people knowing about the letter, and the letter seemed to reveal what he had, or didn’t have, which might lead others to try to find them. The last thing he needed was his Inn or his life to become the subject of a bunch of crazy treasure hunters. And it would if this got out.

  “Can I ask if you’ve found one of the original cards? There are a few missing though I can’t recall which ones off the top of my head.”

  Tricia kept her eyes on Darius who dropped his eyes and shook his head in denial. “No, I’ve just come across this letter. Though I’ll definitely be doing some research into the cards. It’s fascinating information.”

  “It is,” Collin agreed. “I’d love to help you with it further. If that’s in your plans. I know Tricia is leaving here in a short bit, but I’d be willing to lend my expertise.”

  Darius laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything to find. I was just curious about this letter, and when Tricia mentioned you, I thought I’d follow up. Thank you, though, for the offer.” Darius stood, and Tricia followed his lead.

  “Any chance you’d let me copy it to study further?” Collin asked.

  “Not just now. I’d like to think about this a bit more before I decide what to do with it.”

  “Well, at least let me put them into some protective sheets. I’ve got some supplies, but I’ll have to dig them out if you don’t mind waiting a moment.”

  “Not at all.”

  Collin held the sheets of paper gently in his hands and took them toward the back of his house.

  Darius glanced at Tricia. “He seems trustworthy. But I wasn’t expecting the letter to mention the cards.”

  “I think he knows we have a card. He kept looking at me. And, you’re not a great liar,” she whispered.

  Darius nodded. “I was afraid of that.” They sat in silence waiting for Collin’s return. When he did come back, he carried a small box.

  “If you won’t let me keep these or make copies of them, let’s at least keep them as intact and safe as possible. The sheets should be kept in the dark in the sleeves in which I put them. You should also get them to a conservator as soon as possible. I’ll be at the University this afternoon if you’d like to bring them by,” he said handing the box to Darius, his tone almost beseeching. “You know, this letter is a great find, one that any museum would be interested in, especially if it’s truly related to those cards. The tarot has gotten quite popular over the past few years.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Darius said.

  “I’ll be thinking about this letter now for the rest of the day and I’m sure the evening,” Collin said. “How on earth do you suppose it found its way to a piece of furniture in London? It’s a fascinating mystery.” He settled back on the couch and waved at Darius and Tricia to sit as well. “Now you know, London has some history with the tarot.” Over the next hour, he filled them in on the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, a secret society founded in the late 1800s devoted to the mystical and occult arts.

  Darius wondered if there were other groups his grandfather had been involved in. Collin explained that at the time there were quite a few of them. Some devoted to occult arts such as the Order of the Golden Dawn, and
others like the Hellfire clubs, seemingly devoted to orgies and sex.

  Collin even shared that they could tour the Hellfire caves where the supposed rituals took place. Darius had never toured them, finding the idea of visiting somewhere that was the site of some sort of evil occult rituals odd, but then he guessed it was no different than slowing down to see a car crash or something. He wondered if Tricia might like it. He thought surely her daughter would. She seemed an adventurous sort.

  He wondered too at the cards. If they really did have some sort of evil power like Anna Teresa believed and the original letter writer believed as well, maybe they found their way to something called the Hellfire Club. The thought both intrigued him and made him a bit wary.

  “You found this letter at your Inn? The one I visited the other day?” Collin asked as they rose to leave.

  “Yes, it’s a lovely place, isn’t it?” Tricia said, kindly.

  “I suppose that if it’s been there for quite some time and survived the wartime bombings, it could be plausible that this letter survived in that same location. The question is how it got tucked in the wardrobe to begin with? Quite a puzzle you’ve uncovered.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m curious about it myself,” Tricia said, giving her old friend a hug as she said goodbye.

  “Collin? Are you here? I need help with the groceries.” A female voice rang down the hall.

  “Oh, is that Lucy?” Tricia asked. “I’d love to see her.” Tricia took a step back into the house as a petite woman with short black hair entered the hall pushing a young man strapped in a wheelchair. “Oh, David,” Tricia said. She turned to Collin. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, we’re blessed that he survived the accident…” His voice trailed off as he watched Lucy park the chair and wrap her thin arms around Tricia.

  “So good to see you,” Lucy said. “Can we have a visit during your trip? I’d love to see Laurel. We don’t get out as much as we used to with all of the doctor’s visits and all. But they’re making great strides, and we might be able to get David into an experimental program. So much spinal research is happening lately. And there’s a new cutting-edge procedure that might—” She stopped herself. “I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear me blather on about all of this. But a visit where we could catch up would be lovely.”