“What’s wrong now?” Inspector Bailey spoke, smiling, as he entered the room, looking content at finally handling what he had been doing. Some vehicle doors banged outside, making him stop to listen.
Bryson heard them leaving, at the front.
“Has someone discovered anything?” Robert uttered, glancing about him. “There’s still a good chance of finding it.”
Bryson looked about him, but nobody said anything.
“Look!” Inspector Bailey vented, seeing the other policemen losing interest, and leaving. “Try looking less on your own more – in whatever groups you want to be in.”
Robert agreed, and James rapidly agreed with the idea.
They accepted the arrangement, and Inspector Bailey left to go to where the other policemen had gone.
Chapter 23
Faint Traces
When they entered the library, through the darkness, Bryson sensed something unusual. But he only grasped that there was less snow on the ledge.
Yet things still seemed different.
It was thoroughly black outside, and they all grouped about the table, on seats, sitting on the floor, or standing at walls, becoming familiar with their new surroundings. Most of them were the people whom James had brought into to help.
Bryson then realized that there had been one difference in the room – the door to the library had been slightly open, and he had firmly shut it. It was strange, as even if it were not open, as he remembered it to be, he could not realize why it was unusual. Powerful drafts were capable of pulling as well as pushing objects around.
He examined individual objects in the room, from different perspectives, trying to see if there were anything altered – and it was apparent that different bits of furniture about the room were in different positions.
“Where are they?” Merton moaned, as he arrived, at the outer door.
“They are in here.” Bryson called out.
Snow sprayed across the window, creating a feeling of warmth, from being in the warm and sheltered confines of the room.
Before Bryson spoke, Merton and Mortimer entered, and, with some satisfaction, glared over at the books.
“There has to be something here!” Merton declared, following Mortimer in the doorway, looking all about it.
“There’s a lot ...” Mortimer muttered, trying to see their titles. “But why would they mostly about business?”
“Where will we begin?” Merton asked.
“At the start!” Bryson announced, getting a smile from some of the others sitting or standing in the corner, near to the books. And he reached out, to grab a handful of books.
Merton just randomly chose a pile of books, and put them onto the table, next to him, and sat beside Bryson. He quickly confirmed that the first book was what he believed it was, by examining things in it – until he lost interest in it.
They were soon flickering through pages, trying to speed up the process. Nonetheless, it was apparent that it would take them a long time to look through them.
“There’s a fireplace in there,” Merton explained, standing up, feeling the cold. “If we fetched some logs, built a fire in it, and shut the outer door, we could make it warm in here.”
“Good idea!” Bryson answered, with some of the others agreeing, and following Merton to the door.
Bryson considered helping, but did not bother. However, he removed two bottles of wine and glasses, which he had brought with him.
He gave everyone a glass, and returned to work.
He sipped the wine, while relaxing into the seat.
He turned the pages of books sometimes confused at the contents.
Sometimes having to dust the edges of a book, and hold back a sneeze.
“There does not seem to be very much to see in these!” he finally admitted to himself out loud, thinking of ways to cover the whole library.
He picked up many books, astonished at how little they had to interest him. The temptation to flicker through them increased, and he occasionally glanced through the titles.
Once the wood was freely burning away in the fireplace, heating the room, and not filling the room with smoke, or, as far as he could see, setting the chimney on fire, he added more wood; and he retreated to the books.
He recognized Merton and Mortimer’s behavior and that they intended to stay late into the night. However, he did not know how long he would stay there, as he was tired already.
James was flickering through pages without observing them, as Bryson carefully checked the options open to him.
“Here’s an interesting book!” Merton announced – standing up, and sitting back down – holding the tattered book by his fingers, allowing them to see it. It looked old, and from around the First World War.
“It’s a book about castles!” Mortimer remarked, hold out his hand.
“We’ve seen it!” James answered.
“This castle may be in it!”
Mortimer took it from him, and studied its contents.
It finally became obvious that he did not see it, and he started flickering through the pages.
Bryson felt the warm air from the fire slowly surrounding them. It now felt more like a proper library.
“Well, it’s a start.” Merton muttered. “There has to be more books like it, and luckily there will be one that will be of use.”
Mortimer nodded his head.
Mortimer finally examined it on the table.
Bryson removed the map that he had found in the book, and showed it to Mortimer, telling him how he had found it.
Mortimer carefully unfolded the tattered piece of paper on the table, as they watched on, trying to see what it was.
“Well, what is it?” Merton asked, frustrated after waiting, watching him examining it.
“It’s an old drawing of the castle.”
Merton took it, and held it over the table.
He and Bryson considered the faint lines for a moment. It was a map of the interior – drawn by someone. Perhaps something someone visiting might have drawn.
After some consideration, Bryson was sure that it had not been made by Sir Richard, and that he had not drawn it when he had inherited the castle.
Yet he realized that he might have put it in the book, and perhaps even forgot about it.
He tried to realize what he had been like. What had he actually been like younger? And what had he thought of the castle?
There was a chance that he might have stayed the way that he had been, in many ways, and he might have always had a dream of hiding his money, and had thoughts of it being a good idea, for some reason.
He might even have obtained the idea of where it had been best to hide it from his first searches of the castle. It could be more valuable to them than Mortimer had assumed.
Merton studied it from different angles, and became uninterested in it. He obviously wanted to know why he was so interested it.
“That looks like a faded cross marking this library,” he muttered.
Bryson viewed it, with much interest, realizing that he had forgotten about it. The library was older than he had thought. It even looked strangely marked on it.
This interested him, as he wondered where the original books had been put. So far he had not seen any of them. He randomly searched through the titles for them. But he only saw the books that Sir Richard had put in it.
What did he do with the original books – which must have been there? On the other hand, he might have thrown them away over the years, especially if they had just been unwanted books from the previous person.
Once he spotted Merton had lost interest in it, he swiftly took it away from the table, and put it in his pocket. He then pulled over the book that it had been in, for a close look at it.
Chapter 24
The Treasure Hunters
Mortimer became more interested in observing the room.
“How do you know that Sir Richard never invested his money in something?” Mortimer suddenly remarked. “He could easily
have concealed it somewhere – without it being noticeable.”
“Such as that bottle of wine!” Sarah joked, and Bryson stopped piercing the cork with the corkscrew, to smile back to her.
“Bottles of wine are not worth that much,” he joked, checking the label, and continuing with the operation.
“He was a businessman ... You kept saying to us. Businessmen like investing in things ... Perhaps there’s an item that he expected to grow dramatically in value.”
“Such as one of the paintings,” Bryson commented, making them look at each other.
“What about the paintings ...?” Mortimer muttered, turning around, looking at the painting behind him. “Has anyone checked the value of this one?”
“We would have noticed a valuable painting,” Bryson replied, taking the glass of wine, and gently sipping it, to taste it first.
“That’s not that valuable,” Merton responded, remembering he had been checking them. “They are all over the castle. They are mostly only pictures of the estate.”
“But there may be one somewhere else ... Hidden!”
Bryson considered the idea again. “You may be right – there may be – we have not even been in some of the rooms yet. I cannot imagine any of the furniture and antiques that I’ve seen being worth that much. There would have been a serious risk of someone damaging it, not realizing its value – or even future owners just discarding it. It has to be something that would not have been damaged, and be in a place where it would have been safe.”
“That’s could be correct,” Mortimer replied.
“I think that we should just continue to search objects about the castle as we go along.”
“Let’s have another look in here ...” James replied.
Sarah lifted part of the carpet, at the corner of the room. And James grabbed a loose plank, and pulled it up. Then he placed it against the wall, and used a torch to observe under the floorboards.
They removed more, and examined the stone of the original floor under it, under the thick layer of dirt and old pieces of building materials accumulated there – mostly from when they had built the upper part (built when they had installed the electricity into the castle).
James tapped the foundations, and original castle floor, trying to realize how thick it was. It obviously was very thick and solid, like the walls.
Bryson considered if Sir Richard could have cut a hole in it and buried it in it. However, if he had put it in a place such as that, it would almost be impossible for them to find it, without taking apart the castle bit by bit to find it. The immense amount of places that he could have put it was tremendous – especially if he had cemented into one of the walls, giving it a thick outer shell enough to stop them detecting it as a hollow zone.
He vaguely wondered how safe the castle about him really was. Ancient craftsmen, with only a basic knowledge, had built it. Who would know if they had designed it to last a few decades, or something? Yet if it had stayed up the amount of time that it had, it must be strong enough not to collapse. They could have easily built it to last! He had only seen derelict castles crumbling away, and he had never heard of one such as it falling down. However, he had heard of parts of modern structures collapsing.
“If we could just obtain some more information about Sir Richard!” Merton suggested, looking at the books, with interested.
“What do you think ...? Is this Sir Richard’s personal library ...? We’ve only searched through some.”
“How many of them are there,” Mortimer replied.
“It’s a large amount.”
“They seem to be mainly business books, but I have not thoroughly checked them.”
“Let’s search for an answer to the clue ...”
Bryson shifted out of his seat. “There is a large collection, but we may be able to check them without wasting time.”
Chapter 25
Uninvited Guests
Robert’s face showed signs of strain, so Bryson promptly sat along the table from him, not wishing to displease him. The stress causing it was not in any way evident. There were no signs of anything taking place, or having occurred in his absence.
Nonetheless, he just took it that he was running out of proper ideas – the many other problems – and the grim reality of the situation.
The others stayed almost silent, as they had been, only conferring in mutters, in their groups, which they were working in; with their discussions noticeably avoiding talking about their search.
Robert placed his head in his hands, tightly pressing his elbows against the table, which had already marked his jumper. Now he knew why they used those ridiculous elbow patches.
Robert eventually removed one of his elbows, looking slightly sleepy, making an effort to be sociable.
Bryson fought to rectify a smile, which emerged on his face, while Robert pulled his chair over to him.
“Do you know that the police have not found anything?” he spoke, shuffling a napkin around, and folding it.
“They’re doing their best!”
“They’re carrying out their investigations at the village,” he continued, almost yawning.
“I didn’t know that.”
Bryson checked Mortimer, Merton, and Helen sitting silently, in a line, going along the opposite side of the table. They occasionally took something to eat.
His watch told him that it was later than he had imagined, and that they would not be there long, before they would return to the library, to continue their search. He was still positive that Merton and Mortimer were planning to stay there until it was late, to continue to conduct a proper research of the castle.
“Where’s James?” Bryson asked, trying to find some more information about him, knowing that Robert had been closely watching him, almost following him around – perhaps to see why he had been so obsessed with working on his own. Most of the others seemed to have been working near him, as if he now had magnetism.
“He returned to his room, just before I came here,” he instantly replied, giving a slight venomous grin.
“So was he annoyed at not finding anything?”
“He was arguing, but I don’t know if it had anything to do with him not finding anything. Why ...?”
Bryson saw that the others were growing restless.
“Let’s have another look in the library.”
“Good idea!” Bryson replied, leaving with him, observing the pictures on the walls, once again.
Bryson could not see any sign that there was anything of value. But there could be a connection between something and the clue. The answer to the clue could be in one of the scenes of the paintings.
At the door to the library room, Robert turned silent, looking startled for a moment, holding his composure. He proceeded in, creeping, not making any sounds.
Bryson saw the door partially open, and that the light was on.
He stuck out his head, and promptly shoved the door wide open.
Bryson, in one movement, shifted in front of it – instantly seeing James, sitting himself, at the table.
“Did you just come in here!” Robert asked, moving into a seat, surprised that he had been there.
Bryson watched him. “Did you move the furniture in here?”
He sighed. “I was looking around.”
Bryson saw by his tense attitude, as well as his replies, he was annoyed. Perhaps at being questioned.
Sarah emerged at the doorway. Her face showed some surprise at seeing them.
“Are the rest of them coming back then?” James asked, curiously.
“Apparently not.” Robert voiced, watching him become happier.
“Who relit that fire?”
“We did,” James confessed.
Sarah stood where she was, staying away from them, as though waiting for James to continue, and perhaps somehow sort out a problem.
“Look!” Bryson moaned. “We are searching together.”
James and Sarah suddenly moved out of the room, and start
ed whispering.
He tiredly turned to them. “We’ll share it ...” he replied.
“We agree!” Robert swiftly answered, humorously. “But you’ll have to find something first!”
They vaguely smiled at each other, with slightly embarrassed expressions.
“Of course,” James muttered, “they’re just useless books, and we are wasting our time looking for anything.”
They began where they had been searching, before leaving to have a meal. Bryson and Robert built up the fire, so that it was heating the room more. It now seemed colder. It might have been the amount of people in the room, actively moving around, that had been there.
Bryson watched James and Sarah return, and saw that the agreement between them would last. And that they were in complete agreement over something else.
He occasionally observed them, from the edge of his eyes, trying not to look at them too much. He watched them to see what he was missing.
They were just examining the covers more than the contents. It was all that he needed to know, to realize that they would not find much.
He had occasionally walked along examining them, without removing them off the shelves.
It was noticeable that Sarah did not fully know what she was looking for, and was going out her way to please James. He did have a good idea of what he was looking for, and was insisting on looking for it in particular – especially in the titles.
He was sure that if the map of the castle had not fallen on the floor, that they would not have found it.
There was something about hunting for hidden things that he did not like. There were too many things suggesting where things could be. The mind could almost turn anything into looking like a clue, just by staring at it for long enough, if it wanted to find something badly enough. They could follow false clues to the day that they left if they were not careful. He was sure, that if they had not already been doing it, that they would start doing it as soon as they had checked the main places at the castle – and had no real ways of finding it.
The Lost Treasure Map Series Page 7
