by B J Richards
"But the museum was his home!" Sandra countered. "He practically lived there during his waking hours and there are reports he never left there for days. Philip would’ve known that from his family history. Being the eldest Billamore son of the day, Philip would also have had control of the Hall. He would never have hidden anything at the Manor where he thought Drake and Elinore could get it. He would’ve kept the treasure hidden in a place of honor to Jonas and away from his greedy brother," Sandra countered.
"How do you know Jonas spent all that time there?"
"I'm the Curator of Billamore Hall. Don't you think I'd be curious about verifying its history?" Sandra was feeling particularly pleased with herself now. She could feel Josephine's resolve weakening and desperately wanted Josephine’s help. And she couldn’t do this without her. Besides, she needed her sidekick spurring her on, and wanted things back the way they were, including all of Josephine’s wild theories.
"Okay, fine. As long as it doesn't endanger you in any way. But the minute I think it might be too dangerous or put us in the path of those criminals, the deal is off." Josephine was emphatic and she meant it. Still, Sandra grinned.
"Yes, ma'am." Sandra was excited. They finally had a plan. She was going to solve this with Josephine by her side, and couldn’t wait to get started.
CHAPTER NINE
"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into this," Nathaniel said for the third time as he drove into Professor's Montgomery driveway.
"Best believe it, Honey. Sandra here is on a quest for hidden treasure," Josephine quipped and gave him a quick kiss before they all got out of the car. This time they’d called ahead and asked Professor Montgomery for a good time to visit. Before they could even knock, he’d opened the door to greet them, smiling from behind his round-rimmed glasses.
"Glad to have you back, my friends. Care for a cup of tea?" He motioned them into the living room, tea and cups waiting on a silver service tray. "What is it this time? Still curious about your family lineage?" The last time they were there, Sandra told him she was a relative of Annabel’s, so he directed the question to her.
"No, it's not about my lineage this time, Professor Montgomery. We’re more curious about the Billamores." Sandra and Nathaniel both noticed a brief moment of shock on Professor Montgomery’s face before he quickly covered it with a smile.
"What about the Billamores?" John Montgomery asked delicately. "You know the Billamores are the founding fathers of this town. Their history runs so deep, the more you find, the more there is to uncover. I assume you’re curious about the Billamore Curse?"
Sandra's brows furrowed in confusion. That wasn't what she’d come for, but this was definitely an intriguing turn. "What is the Billamore Curse?" The moment Sandra asked, John lit up, thrilled to share more of his stored knowledge about the town and its history.
"Local historians have theorized about the unknown deaths that seem to plague the Billamores. It appears there is a pattern of early deaths among some generations of the males, for no apparent reason. It’s not from accidents. And there is no known medical condition that runs through the family… at least that can be found. Just a regular pattern of some of the males dying early. Originally, the Billamores came from both German and English descent. When they came to the Americas and formed this town, they decided to keep to themselves by marrying each other. Some say it was a form of power and resource control, keeping the wealth within the family. And others theorized they had a belief of keeping their blood pure. All in all, I think that’s why Philip’s family objected to your ancestor Annabel’s marriage into the Billamores."
"I thought you didn't know anything about Annabel Carson till the time we came to you," Nathaniel asked curiously.
John flushed slightly, like someone who’d been caught off guard.
"I must admit curiosity overcame me after your last visit. I've done some research since then. Unfortunately, we historians tend to be a curious lot." John took a sip of tea, then continued. “This condition, or whatever it is, always seems to skip a generation. It skipped Jonas Billamore, the generation after him died fairly young, but their sons lived to old age. The Billamore family tree is a curious thing, actually. Also, the case of their heterochromia iridium also made them stand out. It became a kind of distinguishing feature by which a Billamore was known around town."
"What is that?" Sandra asked.
"It's a case of having two different eye colors," Nathaniel filled in.
"So, you've heard of it?" John Montgomery asked with a brow raised.
"Yeah, I'm familiar with it," Nathaniel noted.
Sandra nodded acknowledging the information, but the real reason she’d come had been left unattended. "Do you perhaps know anything about Jonas Billamore's activities at the museum?"
"He was the owner and curator… known to be highly eccentric… and was an avid art lover."
"Any other family rumors or secrets?" Josephine asked.
John looked up at her, obviously confused. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."
"They want to know if there are any stories of Jonas Billamore having a secret treasure." Nathaniel looked John directly in the eye when he spoke, watching for another uncontrolled reaction.
John chuckled and waved his hand. "I've heard of such rumors, but it seems unlikely. Please tell me you’re not on a treasure hunt. If there was anything of value, I'm sure it would’ve been in Jonas Billamore's will. He died an old man; there must’ve been time to make such preparations."
Sandra's heart sunk. She’d been hoping to find something useful here. "Of course, that makes sense. Thank you for your time as always, Professor Montgomery." She stood and shook his hand, as he graciously walked them to the door.
“What about the tunnel underneath the museum? Do you know why it was never included in the town’s maps? Down at the station, the lab found significant evidence of its use in the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries,” Nathaniel asked looking John directly in the eye.
John’s face went blank, but his right temple twitched slightly.
“I had no idea there was a tunnel beneath the museum, Detective. But that does sound interesting,” he said returning Nathaniel’s direct eye contact.
Nathaniel nodded and thanked him for his time and continued out to the car with Sandra and Josephine.
Once on the way to Josephine’s shop, Nathaniel’s police-trained-gut couldn’t calm down. "Did either of you notice anything strange about that man?"
"Not really. What’re you talking about?" Josephine asked.
"He tried so hard to control the entire conversation. You didn't ask about the genetics of the Billamores, but he supplied that willingly. And when you did ask about any family treasure, he suddenly knew next to nothing."
"Well, he is a history professor. They are generally chatty… except when they don’t know." Sandra said.
"I think Nathaniel is just being concerned because he has different eye colors too," Josephine said grinning.
"What are you talking about?" Sandra had known him since they were kids and this was news to her.
"Josephine just summarized to you my bullying experience from the third grade. Thanks, Honey."
Josephine let Nathaniel’s sarcastic tone slide off her and turned around to fill Sandra in, still grinning.
"He has two different eye colors… blue and green. When he was in third grade, some kid bullied him about it and wanted to remove one of his eyes so he would have only one color. After the incident, he got eye contacts. He got blue and stuck with being blue-eyed. Such a shame though because I love both."
"How come I never knew this?" Sandra asked in amazement.
"We didn't meet till fourth grade," Nathaniel said and shrugged.
"Well, at least I know you haven’t been holding out on me all these years,” Sandra teased.
"It’s too bad he didn’t know about the treasure, though. Annabel was certain there was one," Sandra noted some minutes later.
<
br /> "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Sandy." Josephine reached over and gave Sandra a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.
"There's one way to be sure the Billamores don't know anything about the attack at the tunnel or the treasure. I guess I'll have to pay them a visit. The tunnel itself is still under police investigation, and since it is on Billamore property, I have a duty to pursue every avenue," Nathaniel said.
Sandra beamed with hope again. If anyone would know anything, it should be the Billamores.
CHAPTER TEN
Nathaniel waited for Security at the Billamore Manor to allow him in. A gigantic stone mansion that was built in the early 18th century, it was the grandest estate in Billamore, and now served as a part-time tourist attraction for those interested in Billamore history. There was a different entrance for tourists though, and Nathaniel thought he should’ve taken that one instead of waiting to be ushered in at the main residence.
Having finally cleared Security, he continued on to the residential wings of the Manor. Nathaniel wasn't sure he’d get any useful intel from the Billamores, though. Just because their ancestors were rumored to have kept treasures in a tunnel, didn’t mean they knew anything about it. In his experience, families had a tendency to stay closed-lipped about such things. Still, he had a duty to perform, and a best friend to protect.
"How may I help you, sir?" A brown-haired man he assumed was the Butler, greeted him at the door. He introduced himself and flipped out his badge.
"Are any of the Billamores at home?" For some reason this simple question seemed to cause a great deal of consternation to the butler.
After a moment of reflection, the butler answered him. "There are two different nuclear families of the Billamore in the residence sir. Which of them exactly do you wish to speak to?" he said at last.
Nathaniel knew the Billamore family was large in number, but the idea he’d have the opportunity to speak to more than one of the families during this visit, never occurred to him. "Who’s the oldest member of the family?"
"Mrs. Anne Billamore. She’s elderly and I don't think she'd want to talk to you, sir. But Mr. Matt Billamore, her son, is in."
"Okay, I'll talk to him then." Nathaniel followed the butler through the west wing of the mansion until they got to a room that looked like the entire size of his house.
"Wait here, sir."
With the butler gone to fetch Matt Billamore, Nathaniel decided to have a look around. The room was decorated with expensive paintings that lived up the family’s reputation as art connoisseurs. Nathaniel assumed the majority of the paintings were procured by Jonas Billamore some centuries before. He couldn't tell. He didn't understand art the way Sandra did. He wandered around the room, paying attention to detail only the way a police detective would, until his perusing was interrupted by loud voices outside. Opening the glass doors, he stepped out onto a geranium-filled garden veranda. A middle-aged man was having a heated argument with someone in his twenties that Nathaniel guessed was his son.
"I can do as I please and you've got nothing to say about it!" the son said.
"I won’t say this again. If you don't stop with the drugs, I'll freeze all your accounts and your trust fund. You won’t use family money to destroy your future. Neither I, nor your grandmother, will stand for it," the man retorted.
Angry at being threatened with money, the son clenched his fists. "That's unreasonable. I don't even take it. It's business. I thought someone like you would appreciate that."
Nathaniel's brows furrowed. The DEA had visited the precinct last month inquiring about the possible use of Billamore as a mid-point for drug traffic. The Police Chief had negated the theory as impossible. Billamore was a town of outstanding citizens... apart from the murders and the burglaries of course. Something the Chief didn’t get into with the DEA.
"Detective Murphy?" Nathaniel heard the butler call after him.
Nathaniel turned and went back inside. “Sorry, I wanted some fresh air." He directed his apology to an elderly woman in a motorized wheel chair.
"Don't worry about it. I love the fresh air myself." The woman smiled at him. While her body was notably older, her energy was like that of a middle-aged woman. Nathaniel assumed this was Anne Billamore.
"You know when I first married my husband, God rest his soul, I wanted to tear everything down. It's a beautiful house, but I had the feeling this room, like the rest of the house, had become a victim of its own wealth. I wanted it to be free, but alas the rest of the family objected. So, here we are, almost sixty years later, still the same old house. Nothing changes, really." She paused, looking around the gigantic room, her eyes somewhat saddened. Nathaniel could tell that she was reminiscing about her past marriage.
Pulling herself back to the present moment, she addressed Nathaniel warmly. "I hear you want to talk to a member of the Billamore family, Detective Murphy. Is anything wrong?"
Nathaniel sat on a sofa beside her wheelchair now, and it put them at almost the same height. He could see her blue eyes shimmering with attention as she spoke to him.
"I was hoping to get some information about the tunnel below the Billamore museum, ma'am. Some suspects attacked the curator there a couple of weeks ago, and I'm following every lead."
Before she could reply, a male voice interrupted. "What about the tunnel?"
Nathaniel turned around to see the middle-aged man that was having an argument with his son, some minutes before. His face was expressionless, but behind his glasses, Nathaniel could see he had two different eye colors, exactly like Professor Montgomery had theorized.
"This is my son, Matt. Matt, Detective Murphy here was just curious about a tunnel beneath the museum following an incident."
"Well, you’re asking the wrong people. Our ancestors may have built the tunnel leading to that old harbor, but we can't take responsibility for what some miscreants do with it," Matt grumbled tersely. He was the first person Nathaniel had met with any knowledge of the tunnel. Or maybe all Billamores knew about it.
"Matt, don't be rude!" his mother protested.
"Stay out of this, Mother!" Nathaniel watched the woman's brows raise in shock. She was evidently not used to her son addressing her in such a manner. Matt seemed intimidating, but what Nathaniel saw was mainly fear. Matt was scared about something.
Nathaniel decided to take advantage of that. "Then I suppose you don't know the rumors about treasure hidden in the tunnel by your ancestors?"
Anne smiled and shook her head. "Please detective. My husband went crazy with that. Always following one clue, then another, looking for that treasure. There was nothing to be found then and there isn’t anything to be found now. It was never any more than silly rumors that flowed through family circles for generations. I think it was Jonas’ way of playing a mean trick on all of us."
Nathaniel nodded, stood and shook Anne’s hand. "Thank you for your time, ma'am."
He nodded toward Matt and followed the butler, who had magically appeared, to the front door.
Just about what I expected.
He wasn’t surprised he’d left with no real information about the tunnel. But now he had a whole new reason to investigate that tunnel. Not for hidden treasure, but for drugs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nathaniel watched as the dogs ran around the tunnel, sniffing everything possible the dark tunnel might be hiding. It had taken little effort to convince the Police Chief to let him investigate the tunnel for signs of drug trafficking. If there was anything going on in Billamore, the Chief wanted it handled immediately and quietly, without the feds and the DEA.
He couldn’t get the dejected look out of his head when he told Sandra she was likely attacked by drug dealers. And that it probably had nothing to do with the museum and the supposed treasure of Jonas Billamore.
He looked over at the officer directing the dogs. "Anything?"
"Nothing, sir."
Nathaniel nodded and walked in the direction where Sandra had been attacked. There were
still aspects of this whole thing that made no sense. If drug dealers had attacked Sandra, then why were they digging at the wall? He could chalk it up as idiots under the influence of drugs, but the digging appeared too specific. As if a specific part of the wall had been marked and targeted. He was about to ask the officer to bring the dogs over to inspect the area where Sandra was found, when he heard a shout.
"We've found something, sir!" The young officer was excited and Nathaniel jogged in his direction.
The dogs were trying to unearth something just inside the tunnel entrance. The officer patted the dogs on the head for a job well done, then proceeded to dig the spot up with a shovel. He hadn't gone far when he saw a large blue container. Digging the rest of it out, he set it down for Nathaniel to open and inspect.
Nathaniel pried the lid up, then whistled.
"It’s like a mini-cartel in there!" The officer had never seen drugs like that in Billamore.
"You can say that again," Nathaniel confirmed. His hands covered in latex gloves, Nathaniel began searching through the drug-filled container.
“Hello.” He’d found a cell phone hidden under some of the drug baggies. The officer brought out a specimen bag and Nathaniel dropped the phone in. “Have the lab go to work on this right away. Trace any numbers they find and report it to me immediately.”
***
"Who’s your accomplice? Who calls you with that phone?" Nathaniel asked David Billamore, now sitting opposite him in the interrogation room.
"You don't have to answer that." His father, Matt Billamore, was also serving as his attorney.
Nathaniel hated the gridlock he was getting from every one of his questions. It wasn't as if he needed the confession to put David away. His finger prints had been all over the drug container and the number found on the phone that was with them, was also his. It was more than enough to charge him for drug trafficking. But Nathaniel needed to know if he had anything to do with what happened to Sandra down in that tunnel.
