by B J Richards
“The chest will stay, but there are going to be some slight alterations to the contents,” Nathaniel said smiling. “I’ve had a very enlightening chat with the Chief.”
***
Anne Billamore pushed the button to the intercom from her private sitting room adjacent to her bedroom. “Sara, would you bring me some brown packing paper and sealing tape, please. And a box… not too small, but not too big, either. I have some photos I need to have delivered to the Curator at the Hall, and some of them are still in their frames.”
“Yes, Mrs. Billamore, right away,” came the professional reply across the intercom. Sara finished her last sip of tea in the servant’s dining room, then headed to the storage cabinet to gather the items Anne Billamore had asked for.
Requirements in hand, she headed up the back staircase to Mrs. Billamore’s rooms. She’d been the week-end secretary for Mrs. Billamore for years and knew her habits well by now. She paused briefly and glanced into the hallway mirror before entering, quickly adjusting her plain brown-framed glasses and smoothing her skirt. Neatness was a must in the Billamore home. She knocked at the door and waited for Mrs. Billamore’s acknowledgement before entering.
“Ah, yes, those will be just fine, thank you, Sara. I’ll be needing you to deliver this for me momentarily. I’ll ring for you when I have it ready.”
“Yes, Mrs. Billamore,” Sara nodded, then left the room, closing the door behind her.
Anne Billamore adjusted her small frame in the motorized wheelchair and moved over to the antique-cherry secretary cabinet that had been her husband’s pride and joy. The cabinet had been handed down through the family and was made by Abraham and David Roentgen for Jonas Billamore himself in the early 1700s. Though not an exact replica of the secretary desk made for King Frederick William II, it was still a complicated maze of secret drawers and compartments. This was where Anne kept anything she didn’t want the staff or other family members to find.
She went through the cycle of opening one drawer, to open another, to open another. Finally, the drawer containing the key she was looking for popped open and she withdrew its contents. Then she wheeled herself into her dressing room, lined with shelves of shoes, accessories, drawers and closets.
Sliding back one of the closet doors, a chest of locked drawers came into view. Using the key she’d kept in the secretary desk, she opened the closet chest. It contained drawer after drawer of what appeared to be priceless antique diamond jewelry. But only Anne knew they were replicas. The real jewels were in her personal vault; another secret she would keep from her son until her will was read.
***
Half an hour later, Sandra had returned to the tunnel with the box Anne Billamore had sent and the backlogged paintings she was instructed to fetch. Nathaniel and Josephine had been busy making a video log of the contents of the chest.
“How did you get Mrs. Billamore to go along with this,” Sandra asked.
“It wasn’t me, it was the Chief. When he was a rookie, he saved Matt Billamore’s life during a robbery. Matt is Mrs. Billamore’s only son. Ever since then, she and the Chief have had a connection. She’s invited him and his wife to several of their parties over the years, and I’m sure their friendship played a role in him eventually becoming Chief of Police. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He’s got an amazing record as a cop.”
“So what exactly is the plan?” Josephine asked. “Are you going to take all this back to the station, or what?”
Nathaniel shook his head. "That'll be attracting too much attention. After the drug bust we had the other day, I'm sure the guys after this are laying low, but keeping an eye out. They’ll be back soon, though. The only way to make sure we catch them is to use this chest as a trap. After all, that’s what they were here digging for in the first place.
Mrs. Billamore has requested we leave the contents of the chest here at the museum. There’s a private safe in the Curator’s office. She doesn’t want the contents to leave the premises and risk the chance of her son finding out. Evidently, she doesn’t trust he’ll do the right thing once he knows about this. She also wants some time to consult her attorneys privately. And since she does own everything we find here, it’s her call.”
“But isn’t all this evidence?” Sandra reminded him.
“Yes, it is. That’s why Jo and I made a video log of everything here and that’s going directly to the Chief and no one else. But since Mrs. Billamore has agreed to using the chest and a couple of the gold bars as a trap to catch the suspects, the Chief is bending a few of the rules. The diamonds will be replaced by the jewelry that’s in that box Mrs. Billamore sent over.”
“Oh, I get it,” Sandra said. “And these frameless back-logged paintings you had me get, will replace the ones that were in the chest. The thieves weren’t able to open the chest, so they have no idea of its contents.”
“Exactly,” Nathaniel concurred. “And we’ll use the inside entrance through the passageway you found to get into the museum and store the real contents in your office safe. That way, no one could accidentally see anything suspicious being removed from the tunnel.”
“I understand the plan. But it still seems pretty risky. These paintings may be substitutes, but they’re still valuable. And even leaving a couple of the gold bars, plus this jewelry? We pretty much know these are the same people who attacked me, and killed three other curators… I don't know, Nate," Sandra said tensely.
"Hey, I know all that, but I'm not going to let them get away. The entire department wants this solved, and the Chief has made it our number one priority." Nathaniel gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back.
"You've got to trust me and the Chief, okay? I'll have my best officers on this. There will be cameras everywhere and they’ll be monitored from the police station and from inside the museum until we catch those bastards. Besides, the pendant is the key and it’s in your possession. That means you’re the only one who can open the chest. And these guys aren’t stupid enough to try to blow the chest open. They’ll be afraid of destroying what’s inside.”
***
“Okay, I think that’s it,” Sandra said. “The real contents are locked away upstairs and the phony treasure is in the chest.”
Josephine was shooting video of the entire proceedings, per Nathaniel’s instructions. “And I’ve got it all recorded, so there’s no chance of everything not being accounted for.”
Nathaniel gave Josephine a quick kiss on the head. “Thanks, babe.” Then he turned to Sandra. “That’s it… lock it back up.”
Sandra carefully closed the lid on the chest, took off the pendant and held it up to the lock one more time. Again, the pendant automatically attached itself to the chest, every groove aligning in perfect sync. Slowly she turned the pendant counter-clockwise and the lock sealed itself shut for only the second time in the last 150 years.
"Now all we need to do is put the chest back in the wall and fill the hole back up, exactly as they left it," Nathaniel noted.
***
Going over to examine the hole the chest was in, Nathaniel turned cautiously toward Sandra and Josephine. There appeared to be something that looked like sticks tied together at the inside where the chest had been. "Can someone give me a flashlight, please?"
"What is it?" Josephine asked, handing him a light.
"I'm not sure...," he said and pointed the flashlight at what he’d found in the hole. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed and stepped back.
"What is it?" Sandra and Josephine asked in unison this time.
"Dynamite. There's dynamite tucked into the wall where the chest was. You two are lucky you weren’t blown to bits," Nathaniel said tensely. "I need you girls to leave."
"Can't we just remove it? It's not lit or anything," Josephine said.
"No. This dynamite has been here for centuries. It's old and weakened. Any slight movement could cause it to explode. Which means putting the chest back could blow everything around here and cause the entire tunnel to come crash
ing down."
"Jonas Billamore gave his ancestors treasure and death," Josephine’s voice was almost a whisper.
"Actually, it was Philip, remember. I'm certain he kept the dynamite as insurance, just in case Drake and Elinore somehow got their greedy hands on it. My guess is he expected to come back and hand it over to his own children someday, disarming it at the time. Of course, he didn’t know he would die at such an early age, or have any idea it would be this long before someone found it," Sandra said.
"Whatever the case, I need you two out of here now. We’re lucky the museum is closed today. Let me handle this, and don’t argue with me, Jo."
"Please don't tell me you're going to move that dynamite yourself," Josephine said, worry flooding her face.
"No, I'm not. I'll call Dickson. He's a war veteran who knows his way around explosives. And I'll make sure the cameras are set up afterwards," Nathaniel said as calmly as he could, taking both of them by the arm and escorting them out of the tunnel. What he wasn’t telling them was just how risky this whole thing was… even for an explosives expert. And he wasn’t going to let Dickson take that risk alone.
CHAPTER TWO
"Dickson I need you here at the museum tunnel as soon as possible," Nathaniel said into the phone from the tunnel entrance.
"Murphy, I’ve got a date,” came the half-hearted reply. Nathaniel could hear a woman giggling in the background.
"No, you don't. This is important, Dickson. And bring bomb defusing materials with you."
Dickson’s attitude changed immediately. "A bomb?" Nathaniel had his full attention now.
"Actually it’s dynamite. Really old dynamite. I can't move it for fear of explosion."
"Got it, Murph." Dickson was talking into the phone as he dressed. "What the hell is dynamite doing down in that tunnel anyway? That doesn’t sound like drug smugglers."
"It's a long story. Just get here as soon as possible. And when you get to the station, get some micro-cameras that can fit into the tunnel walls."
"Another long story?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, you got it. I’m on my way."
Dickson shook his head as he hung up. This is going to be a tricky one. A real tricky one.
***
"Thank God, you're here," Nathaniel said in relief when Dickson finally got there. It had been a long fifteen minutes with Josephine and Sandra constantly checking on him from Sandra’s car in the parking lot.
"Your fiancée said the same. She's pretty worried," Dickson said as he adjusted his eyes to the darkness of the tunnel. "What exactly is going on here, Murphy?" he asked as he tossed bomb gear at Nathaniel.
"The answers to the curator murders. I’ll fill you in, but first, let's make sure we’re still alive twenty minutes from now."
"Okay then, show me the dynamite," Dickson said, and they headed into the tunnel.
Once they reached the site, Nathaniel shone his light on the hole in the wall, indicating where the dynamite was lodged.
Dickson shone his own light into the hole as well. "Yeah… this could be a problem. It’s old, wet and highly unstable. What was in this hole anyway?”
Nathaniel moved his light to reflect on the chest, just a few feet away from the hole in the wall. “That.”
“What is exactly is that?” Dickson asked.
“That’s part of the long story. Once we deal with the dynamite, we have to put that chest back into the hole.”
“You’re telling me that chest was in here? Whoever pulled it out was lucky they weren’t blown to pieces. Not to mentioned buried in a cave-in."
"So how do we diffuse it?" Nathaniel asked, not wanting to go into the whole Sandra and Josephine thing right then.
"Diffuse? You don't diffuse this. It's bound to go off. We just have to make sure it's far away from civilization when it explodes."
"Okay, let me think." Nathaniel paced for a minute. "Our first problem is, how to get it from that place where it's stuck, to someplace safe to set it off."
"Well, we have to be very careful and move slowly so we don’t jar it. The chemical substance is unstable but probably won't explode without a spark of some sort. And the wall here is wet, which is good. I'm going to slowly brush away the dirt around it and set the dynamite into the disposal box we brought in with us. Whoever dug this hole is lucky their hammers didn’t spark off against the stone and blow everything to kingdom come."
"Actually, it's the suspected murderers. I'm hoping they won't be so lucky when this whole thing is over, though" Nathaniel replied.
"I'm guessing that’s part of the story you’re going to tell me, and it’s going to be one of a kind," Dickson said as he gently removed the dynamite, his steady hands gingerly laying it into the disposal box. "So where do you think we can take this to set it off? Wherever it is, it better be close."
"The shoreline by this harbor. It's nearby, unknown and deserted," Nathaniel said in a heartbeat and both their faces widened in a grin.
"Great thinking, Murph. Now we gotta move fast… and don’t stumble."
Five minutes later they’d made it down to the edge of the deserted shoreline Jonas Billamore’s hidden port opened onto. “Okay, Murph. This is where I do my thing.” Pulling a remote detonator from his pocket, Dickson carefully opened the box and set the detonator beside it. Then they both took off to a safe distance. One push of a button and the dynamite exploded along with a hail of water.
"Good God," Nathaniel said as he watched in amazement and relief.
"Now Murphy, I believe you owe me a story. But preferably with a glass of scotch."
"How about I tell you while we fix those cameras in the wall,” Nathaniel promised.
Sandra and Josephine were waiting for them back at the tunnel entrance. "We heard the explosion. Are you guys alright?" Josephine asked while running over to Nathaniel.
"Yeah, we’re fine," Nathaniel said, hugging her tightly.
Josephine pulled herself back and looked him in the eye, the tears welling up.
"I'm okay, I promise," he reiterated, hugged her again and kissed the top of her head. “But we still have work to do. We’ve got to get the cameras set up so we can catch these guys.”
“And I could use a glass of scotch. You promised, remember, Murphy?”
“I think I’ve got a little something in my office,” Sandra said. “I think we could all use a stiff drink about now. Come help me, Jo.”
“Alright. You guys need anything else?” Josephine asked Nathaniel.
“That’s it for me!” Dickson said jovially, as Sandra and Josephine walked off toward Sandra’s office.
Nathaniel began filling Dickson in on all the details of the story, while the two of them started hiding cameras at the tunnel entrance and in the walls.
"So, one of the founding fathers of this town was a criminal himself, smuggling in a fortune and hiding it under his museum," Dickson said after hearing Nathaniel recount the entire episode.
“Yeah, it appears so. People are never what you expect.” Nathaniel had managed to tell the story of Annabel's painting without bring up her ghost or her diary. He was happy Dickson didn’t press him for more details, since it was the diary that led them to the missing Billamore treasure… lore he’d not heard before all this started, but evidently was common among the Billamore family members.
"Whoever these people are, they didn't just wake up and decide to explore a myth. They must’ve had an insider who understands the Billamores or has studied the life of Jonas himself. There’s a mastermind out there, not just thieving diggers," Dickson said afterwards.
"I agree. The question is who? A lot of people have access to the Billamore house and history. Tourists come and go all the time. Hell, some even know more about Billamore than I do.”
"I think our suspect list just got a lot bigger. Better than not having anyone, I guess. But whoever they are, these cameras will let us know," Dickson said. Then together they lifted the chest back into its ancient resting place
, and began refilling the hole with dirt, stone and bricks.
All they could do now was wait.
CHAPTER THREE
That week passed uneventfully, with no one showing up at the tunnel. Then on Sunday with the museum closed for the usual day off, Nathaniel, Dickson, Sandra and Josephine all camped out in Sandra’s office to watch the camera monitors in hopes the suspects would make their move. Nathaniel was letting Sandra and Josephine watch with him, since he knew they were safe in her office. Plus, the feeds were also being monitored by other officers, either under-cover or at the station.
Sandra tapped lightly on the chair she sat on, and munched on another doughnut. She was grateful they were at this stage where the criminals could be caught; but the criminals knew who she was and she didn’t know who they were. At least not yet. And knowing they could walk into the museum anytime without being recognized, scared her. Nathaniel had set the bait for them. Now she desperately needed them to bite so all this would be over.
"Are you okay?" Josephine asked her.
"Yes," she said and stopped tapping. "Yes, I'm fine."
But Josephine felt like Sandra was trying to convince herself instead of actually feeling okay. "Remember anything yet?"
Sandra sighed. "You've got to stop asking me that. I just can’t come up with anything solid. Fuzzy feelings and thoughts here or there, but nothing concrete. When I remember, you'll be the first to know."
Josephine had asked several times since they’d gotten out of the tunnel. She thought Sandra should’ve remembered by now, especially since Dr. Stiles said being in familiar places could help.
"I'm sorry," Josephine said in a low voice. Sandra half-smiled. She knew it was frustrating for Josephine, too.
"This feed is so boring. If they’re coming back for the chest, it doesn't seem like it's going to be anytime soon," Sandra said, looking at the monitor set up on her desk.
"That's investigative work for you. It's a hell of a lot more boring than the movies portray. Most of the time, all we do is sit around on our asses, waiting for a suspect to make a mistake and get enough evidence. Otherwise, no way the D.A. can get a conviction, even if we’re sure we caught the right guy," Dickson said reaching for another bagel. As much as he worked out at the gym, two would not be a problem.
