The Lost Inheritance Mystery

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The Lost Inheritance Mystery Page 13

by Ben Hammott


  "If you say so, Sir."

  "Okay, tell me what happened, every detail mind."

  "Well, Sir, after I returned to the manor after dropping you at Havasham Hall, I took the horses and carriage to the stable and…"

  "…Not every damn detail, blast you man, just the good bits relevant to the crime."

  Butler smiled. "Yes, Sir. I returned to the Manor and…"

  By the time Ebenezer and Butler arrived home, Ebenezer had heard the full story. He was astonished on hearing there was a third Hunchback and that the real one and Arthur were tied up in his manor. He was also impressed with everyone's role in the successful outcome.

  Ebenezer entered his study and was greeted by Lurch and Furtive. After a glance at Crakett, who was still unconscious, and Arthur, he headed toward the sofa and before he had finished making himself comfortable, Furtive was handing him a glass of brandy. Ebenezer took a sip and looked at Furtive. "Butler said you are to be congratulated on your performance tonight, well done and be assured there will be a considerable bonus coming your way."

  Furtive smiled and nodded appreciatively.

  "Em, did Butler happen to mention my performance?" asked Arthur hopefully.

  "Not in any words that could be confused to be those of praise or inspire me or your employer, I should think, to be issuing any bonuses in your direction."

  "Oh."

  Butler entered with a steaming bowl of hot water that emitted the scent of mustard. He laid it on the floor beside Ebenezer, pulled the man's shoes and socks off, rolled up his trouser legs and pulled the bowl nearer. "Careful, Sir, it's a tad hot."

  Ebenezer slowly lowered his feet in the hot mustard water and let out a satisfied sigh. "Ahhhhhh! Just what the doctor ordered."

  "Em, not really, Sir. If I recall, he said, 'plunging your bunions into hot water could cause them to swell and explode like a hand grenade.'"

  "Bah! Doctors, what do they know? All they want to do is charge exorbitant fees for a poke and a prod and a taking of temperature and then they have the gall to demand a king's ransom for a tiny bottle of potion, poultice or sachet of powder. They are all thieves and charlatans, every damn one."

  "If you say so, Sir."

  "By the way, Butler, thank you for the foot bath" he mumbled.

  Butler's eyebrows rose without any encouragement. "My, you are in a good mood, Sir."

  Ebenezer shrugged. "I don't suppose it will last."

  "No, Sir, that's as certain as the sun rising in the morning."

  Ebenezer glanced over at the prisoners. "What's your plan for them two?"

  Butler joined his gaze. "I was thinking we leave them like they are until we have found, you know what, and then when it is safe we set them free."

  "That seems best and I can't see an alternative."

  "Well I certainly can," argued Arthur. "I understand why you wouldn't want to let Crakett go just yet, but me, I'm no threat to you so why not let me go now?"

  "And what's to stop you from returning to untie Crakett? He was the one that hired you and you have shown an eagerness to be paid, deserved or not."

  "After my dismal performance tonight, do you really think I'd set him free when I'm close by? I might as well cut my own throat if I'm going to do that. But, I will admit, if you did let me go I was going to return when you had gone, but not to let him go…"

  "…you want to go through his pockets to get your money," stated Furtive.

  Arthur nodded. "But if you are not happy with that, you could always pay me what I'm owed and then I'd have no reason to return. I'd go to the nearest town and wait for the morning train and then I'd be gone."

  "No, I think its best you stay here until we have completed our mission," Butler told him. "We still don't know if you are who you say you are?"

  Arthur huffed in a frustrated manner. "Well if that's the case, you are going to have to let me use the toilet. My bladder's not what it used to be and right now it feels fuller than a butcher dog's stomach."

  It was a condition Ebenezer could sympathize with. "He's right you know. It would be cruel to let him suffer. Lurch, fetch a jug from the kitchen, he can go in that."

  "Yes, Sir," said Lurch and lumbered from the room.

  "What, you can't be serious?" said Arthur.

  "Oh, but I am," Ebenezer told him.

  Arthur groaned. "You'll have to untie my hands or I won't be able to go and you mustn't look. I can't go if someone's looking."

  "I promise you no one wants to watch you empty your bladder," said Ebenezer. "And your hands remain tied."

  "What!"

  "But, Sir, how will he go if his hands are tied?" argued Butler.

  "You'll have to help him. As you said a minute ago, we have no idea who or what he is. I can't take the risk now we are so close to success."

  "But, Sir…"

  "No buts, Butler. You know I am right."

  Butler sighed.

  Lurch returned with the jug.

  Butler reluctantly took it from him.

  "Lurch, I want you to go upstairs…" Ebenezer sighed. "No, not yet."

  Lurch re-entered the room. "Sorry, Sir."

  "Wait until I finish speaking before you leave."

  "Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Have you finished now?"

  "No! I want you to go upstairs and keep an eye on the castle through the telescope and let me know when Sebastian's carriage returns or anything unusual happens. Do you understand?"

  Lurch nodded doubtfully.

  "Okay, Lurch, now you can leave."

  Lurch left the room. Every one of his footsteps across the hall, up the stairs, along the landing and into the telescope room could be heard.

  "Look, if we have to go through this embarrassing ordeal, can you please hurry before I'm unable to hold it in any longer, which will be any second now."

  "It's just as embarrassing for me as it is for you," Butler told him.

  "You wait until you see my todger, you'll soon change your mind."

  Furtive, who couldn't remember having had so much fun, smiled broadly. "You could always use the coal tongs to yank it out," he suggested helpfully.

  Butler and Arthur glanced at the coal tongs hanging on the rack beside the hearth.

  "That's a very good idea," said Butler, reaching out to grab them. He snapped them together a couple of times. "Perfect."

  "No it's not," argued Arthur. "Apart from being covered in coal dust and made of brass, which will be cold, the sharp looking ends don't look like they have been formed for the comfortable and pain free manipulation of my private parts."

  "Are you sure?" asked Butler pleadingly. "I promise to be gentle."

  "I have never been so sure of anything in my life. Use your hand, at least that's soft. Now hurry, undo my flies and get on with it before my bladder bursts."

  Furtive and Ebenezer sniggered.

  Butler sighed. He unbuttoned the man's flies and turned his head away as he slipped a reluctant hand inside and searched for the man's private part.

  "Brrrrr! You could have warmed you hand up, it's colder than moonlight on an Eskimo's tombstone." Arthur squirmed as much as his tight bonds would allow, "What in hell's name are you doing down there, kneading dough. If I wanted to be fondled roughly I would have asked. Just pull it out and let's get this degrading business over with."

  "If you think I am doing this for fun you are very much mistaken. I can't find the damn thing."

  "Well you can't be looking very hard because it's been there for as long as I can remember."

  Butler paused his search and stared at Arthur. "You are not a very grateful person, are you?"

  "What have I to be grateful for? I'm tied to a chair beside a murderer who owes me money and the chances of receiving it practically non-existent, my bladder is about to burst and I have a man's hand shoved down mw trousers groping none to gently at my private parts while watched by a smirking old man and someone who's breath smells worst than any cesspit I have had the displeasure of going toilet in.
Now tell me, Mr. Butler, where in this scenario is something I should be grateful for?"

  "You should be grateful I'm not using the tongs, now please shut up and let me concentrate."

  Crakett Murdersin drowsily opened his eyes. He noticed the jug on the floor, the tongs held in one of Butler's hand and the other rummaging in the crotch of the bound man's pants. He put two and two together and made five. "What depraved and sordid torture is this? I have never seen or heard the like in all my years and I have lived amongst the most foul, corrupt cutthroats and murderers you could possibly imagine. Yet not even the vilest of them would stoop so low as to inflict this evil, perverse torment on one of their victims. I pray for his mercy and beg you to cut his throat or pierce his heart to end his suffering, anything but this despicable torture you are currently engaged in."

  Butler lowered his shoulders and sighed.

  "No, it's okay, Mr. Murdersin, it's not what it seems; I want him to do it," Arthur explained very badly.

  Crakett was surprised. "You do?"

  Arthur nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, it's better than the alternative."

  Crakett's mind failed to picture something worst than what the man was enduring right at this moment. He admired the man's bravery.

  "Oh, you nearly had it then," said Arthur. "Move a bit to your right."

  "It's like trying to grab hold of a live eel in a bowl of oil," Butler complained. "A very small eel I might add, and quite deformed."

  "That's it, grab now." said Arthur. "Ouch, not quite so hard if you please."

  Unable to watch anymore, Crakett grimaced and turned his head away.

  Butler freed the deformed slippery eel from the trousers and his reluctant grasp, dropped the tongs, snatched up the jug and placed it in a suitable position.

  Arthur relaxed his bladder. "Ahhhhhhhh!" The jug began to fill rather nosily.

  Crakett shook his head in disgust. "So much blood."

  After a few moments the noise faded.

  "Is that all?" Butler asked.

  "Is that all!" shouted Crakett. "How much of the poor man's blood do you want?"

  "No, there's a little more I think," said Arthur. A small dribble, a few drips and that was it. "Okay, that's all."

  "Now are you sure?" Butler asked. "I don't want to touch that thing and it starts up again."

  "It won't. I know my bladder."

  Crakett turned to see the jug wasn't full of blood.

  Butler gingerly returned the embarrassing todger to its nest, refastened the man's flies, and climbed to his feet with the jug held at arm's length. "I will return after I have disposed of this and thoroughly scrubbed my hands." He left the room.

  Crakett looked at Arthur. "So he wasn't…you know…,"

  "Going to cut it off! Of course not. These aren't that kind of people. They are quite nice actually. Butler and Ebenezer are like an old married couple and Lurch is a bit dim, but kind hearted I think. The only one to watch out for is the one over there smoking the cigar, his breath smells like…"

  Crakett glared at Furtive. "…Yes, I know, we've met. It's not something I, my lungs, or my nose will forget in a hurry."

  Furtive smiled. "Looks like the advantage is no longer yours, Murdersin."

  "Looks can sometimes be deceiving," replied Crakett.

  Furtive plucked the pistol from his lap and aimed it at Crakett. "But not in this particular case."

  "Well, no, maybe not in this particular case, but sometimes they can be and be assured when I am free I will kill you very slowly and excruciatingly unpleasant."

  Furtive smiled. "Not a very sensible thing to say to someone who has a weapon trained on your heart while you are bound to a chair."

  "No, not really, but it felt good."

  Butler entered, picked up the pistol from the table and approached Crakett. "Goodnight Mr. Murdersin." He swiped him around the head with the pistol butt. Crakett's head sagged to his chest. He looked at Arthur.

  "Please don't hit me, Mr. Butler."

  "Just remain quiet and behave yourself and I'll have no reason to." Butler looked at Ebenezer and smiled. He had fallen asleep. The dancing must have tired him out.

  Furtive noticed the red welt on Crakett's temple start to swell. "Why'd yer knock him out?"

  "We are going in the other room to look at the paintings and I thought it unwise to leave Crakett alone in here lest he escaped."

  "Fair point," Furtive agreed.

  Though a little upset Butler thought him incapable of escaping or a threat that needed a hard, sharp blow on the head, Arthur thought it best he sulked in silence.

  Butler gently lifted Ebenezer.

  Furtive reached for the brandy decanter on the low table.

  "No, leave it. You will need a clear head for what I think is coming our way." With Ebenezer cradled in his arms, Butler left the room.

  Furtive drained his glass, placed it beside the decanter and reluctantly left them sitting there and followed Butler out.

  Shadow, who had been in the room all the time, had heard and seen all, well that is not strictly true, eyes were averted during one disgusting episode, but now that gaze was focused on Butler as he crossed the room with the old man in his arms. They were a strange partnership, Butler and Ebenezer. Arthur was correct when he said they were like an old married couple. Both had a fondness for each other, but both were too embarrassed to show it to any great extent.

  After a glance at the bound prisoners, Shadow also slipped out of the door.

  Butler crossed to the dining room but paused when Lurch came down the stairs and halted on the half landing with a worried frown at seeing his master in Butler arms.

  "Has he gone, Sir?" he whispered, sadly.

  Butler shook his head. "Just asleep. What is it Lurch?"

  "Sebastian's carriage has just turned toward the castle."

  "Okay, thank you Lurch. Go back and let me know if you notice any other activity around the castle. If you do, let me know immediately."

  "I will do, Sir." So he didn't disturb his master, Lurch crept up the stairs as quietly as his large bulk and feet would allow.

  Butler carried Ebenezer into the dining room.

  TWO BECOME ONE

  Now wide awake, slippers on his feet and sat in his wheelchair, Ebenezer's excited eyes watched Butler and Furtive lay the two paintings out on the dining table. "I have waited so long for this moment I can hardly believe it is actually happening."

  "We still have to solve your grandfather's clues, Sir. Your father spent his whole life trying without success."

  "Yes, but he didn't have you, Butler. I am confident you will solve them."

  They all studied the paintings, glancing from one to the other. Though similar, both had their differences. Both were views of the desolate moor and both featured Drooge Manor and Castle Drooge in the background. In Ebenezer's painting the Manor was on the left and the Castle on the right, but in Sebastian's they were reversed. In the foreground of both paintings there was a pile of square edged moss covered rocks, partially overgrown with grass, and weeds with unusual white flowers and behind them a large bush. Though a piece of jewelry, a strange ring set with a single ruby, appeared in both paintings, their positions were also reversed.

  Ebenezer pointed at the ring in one of the paintings. "I still think the ring has to indicate the treasure."

  "I agree," said Butler, deep in thought. "But what puzzles me is why certain details in each picture are reversed; they have to be clues as they are the only differences between the two."

  "Maybe it's a view of the same thing but from a different angle?" said Furtive. "Like a front and back view."

  "There is no location you can stand around here to get this view of both the Manor and the Castle," said Butler. "We have checked."

  Butler tried positioning the paintings, end to end, side to side and upside down to each other, but still nothing made sense. "It's as I thought, the clues are not going to be easy to solve."

  "I know we'v
e checked the back of my painting, but is there anything that may help us on the back of Sebastian's," asked Ebenezer.

  Butler flipped the painting over, laying it on top of the other so Ebenezer could get a good look.

  Ebenezer scrutinized the aged canvas. "Nothing! It's as bare as my bank balance. Turn it back over."

  Butler gripped one end and pulled it back.

  "Stop!" shouted Furtive excitedly.

  Butler and Ebenezer stared at the man.

  "Butler, lower it down slowly, I thought I saw something." He guided Butler with slow movements of his hand until half of Ebenezer's painting was covered by Sebastian's. "That's it, hold it there."

  Butler held the painting steady and tried to look at what Furtive gazed at so intensely, but from his position he couldn't see what it was.

  Furtive pointed out something. "Do you see that, Ebenezer?"

  Ebenezer clamped a hand firmly over his nose and lent forward for a better view. "I see nothing I've not seen before."

  "You have to look at the two halves of the paintings as one. Look at the two rubies and tell be what they look like?"

  Ebenezer looked at both precious stones. "They look a bit like eyes, I suppose."

  "Exactly! Now look at the outer edges of the bushes in each painting, what do you see?"

  Ebenezer cocked his head from side to side. "Ears, perhaps?"

  "Now if the rubies are eyes and the edge of the bushes the ears, what are these strange flowering weeds down here?"

  Ebenezer looked and suddenly saw the whole picture. He turned to Furtive. "Oh, my god, Furtive, you've cracked it. I know where the treasure is. If your breath didn't smell fouler than a potato so rotten it's turned to liquid, I'd hug you."

  "Thank you, Mr. Ebenezer, but I'd rather yer show your appreciation with an increase in that bonus yer mentioned earlier." said Furtive hopefully.

  The smile dropped from Ebenezer's lips. "Let's not be too hasty with the dishing out of bonuses just yet. That time might come when I have the treasure in my hands."

  "Then I will be sure to ask again when yer do, Mr. Ebenezer, Sir."

  "Em, excuse me for interrupting your celebrations, Sir, but what exactly has Furtive found to make you think you know where your grandfather's inheritance is hidden?"

 

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