The Gilded Mirror

by L. M. Somerton

  “Nice save. And he’d be over five hundred years old by the way, so icky!”

  Gage yawned. “Sorry, I’m flagging and I have to be at work at the ass crack of dawn “

  “Mondays are often quiet in the store,” Landry said. “I’ll start researching all this stuff and we can reconvene over dinner tomorrow night. I can’t wait to find out more about Royston’s life.”

  “You’re not disappointed?”

  “No! I think this odd collection of stuff is going to lead us to bigger and better things.”

  “I’m going to see if I can find a way of getting in touch with James Ellery. He’s been manipulating this treasure hunt from the start. I’m convinced of it, and he doesn’t do anything unless it benefits him. If there’s a Raphael painting at the end of all this, his involvement makes much more sense.”

  “So cynical, so sexy.” Landry grabbed Gage’s pajama top and pulled him down for a kiss. “But I agree. I feel like a puppet, and he’s holding the strings.”

  Gage hoisted Landry into his lap. He began to fiddle with the ties on Landry’s pajama pants.

  “And nobody gets to play with your strings except me.”

  * * * *

  If Landry dreamed, he didn’t remember. Gage had summoned up enough energy to give him a thorough, enthusiastic fucking, and they had both fallen asleep immediately afterward. Landry awoke rested if a bit sticky and the bed next to him was already cold. Gage had left a note next to the coffee pot where Landry was guaranteed to find it, which just said ‘be careful’ next to a little heart.

  “Aw, he’s such a cutie.” Landry traced the heart with the tip of his finger. “Could have woken me up with a mug of coffee… But no man is perfect.” He went through his morning routine and even had time to strip the bed and throw in a load of laundry. The washer and dryer were housed in a utility cupboard in the basement and were shared with Petey. Landry rescued a single red sock from the washer just in time, cursing Petey’s name. Gage would not be amused if all his white clothes turned pink. The near miss didn’t deflate Landry’s good mood and he bounced into the store, travel mug in one hand and the Bellingham tin in the other. Petey was already there, dusting near the front of the store.

  Landry dangled the sock in front of his face. “Do you know how dangerous one of these can be? I narrowly missed a humongous disaster when I put our laundry in the washer just now.”

  Petey gave him a sheepish grin as he grabbed the criminal sock then stuffed it in his pocket. “Sorry. I was wondering where that had gone. Why is it that pairs of socks go into the washer but never come out? I’ve lost count of how many odd socks I have.” He held up one foot, then the other, revealing that he was wearing one blue and yellow striped sock and one yellow one with white polka dots.

  “You could start a new trend. Stop that dusting because I’ve got loads to tell you.”

  “Let me just turn the closed sign to open,” Petey said.

  Once Landry had set up the register and opened the purchase log to a fresh page, he and Petey dragged two chairs behind the cash desk. “We need to put out no customers vibes,” Landry said. “Because we don’t have time to make sales today.”

  Petey giggled. “Then you’re shit out of luck because Mr. Abner is about to walk in.”

  “If he wasn’t such a sweet old guy, I’d curse.”

  “You were the one who tempted fate by saying you didn’t want any customers today, it’ll be non-stop now, you realize that?”

  Landry spent half an hour dealing with Mr. Abner, who had good taste and a bottomless bank account. He adored rare books, and Landry had kept several back for him to look at. He loved all of them and left happy as a pig in muck. Landry resumed his seat and waited for Petey to finish with another customer.

  “Finally. I’m more frustrated than when Gage puts my dick in a cage. Oh, that rhymes. I’ve created a new genre—chastity poetry.”

  “I wouldn’t mention that to Gage,” Petey said, “or he’ll be giving you motivation for a few more verses.”

  “Good point. He does have a peculiar obsession with putting my cock in prison. I guess it’s the cop thing. Incarceration is his watchword.”

  “Are you going to tell me about your day out, or are we going to spend the day discussing Dommy habits like we usually do?”

  “For once, I have interesting things to tell you about other than kink.”

  Landry spent the next hour recounting the events of the previous day while Petey listened, eyes growing wider by the minute.

  “Unbelievable. It sounds like an adventure story, but I would have been so scared.”

  “I was too but I knew Gage would take care of me, you know?”

  “What on earth have you got yourself into? Or, more to the point, what has James Ellery got you into?”

  “I don’t know, but the mystery is getting more complicated. The good thing is we have the tin and plenty of things to investigate.”

  The tin was on the shelf under the cash desk. Landry glanced toward the front door. They hadn’t had a customer for the last hour. The rain was bucketing down outside and there was no sign of an imminent interruption. He pulled the tin onto his lap so that it couldn’t be seen if anyone came in.

  “It’s a weird collection of stuff,” he said, handing the book of nursery rhymes to Petey. “I understand the medals, those we need to check out online and see what they were given for. I haven’t had a chance to read the letters yet but there are only three and they are addressed to Royston care of the vicarage in Bellingham, England. Then there’s this.” He handed over the newspaper clipping.

  “I’ve read about this before,” Petey said. “There were some rumors a while back that it had been found, but they were discredited. It’s a beautiful picture.”

  “I didn’t know you were an art fan.”

  “Raphael isn’t really my thing. I prefer the Impressionists,” Petey said with a dreamy smile on his face. “One day I want to go to Giverny to see where Monet painted.”

  “He was the one that did all the pretty waterlilies, wasn’t he?” Landry asked. “My mom has a print of one of his pictures on the kitchen wall back home. You know there’s a book on the bottom shelf over there, one of those giant coffee table things with loads of his pictures in.” Landry ran to get. He brought it back and handed it to Petey. “You should have it on your coffee table.”

  “I can’t afford this.” Petey stroked the book.

  “It’s a gift from me,” Landry said. “And don’t argue with me, Petey, because I’m your boss.”

  “Thank you. I love it. I’ll look at it properly this evening.” Petey slid the book under the cash desk. “Was there anything else in the tin?”

  “Just this.” Landry handed over the coin. “Something else to research. I don’t know anything about coins. It’s not something we’ve ever stocked.”

  “If it’s rare, it could be valuable,” Petey said.

  “Or it could be worth the twenty dollars face value. I don’t know why an ex-serviceman who became a miner would have something valuable and just hide it. He could have used the money, I’m sure, if it was something saleable.”

  “I guess so. It must have meant a great deal to him for him to hide it, though.”

  “It’s on the investigation list. There’s something else, well two things actually. I forgot to mention that on Royston’s headstone in the graveyard, there was a carved image of a portrait the same as the one in the water mark on the map. There was also a series of letters that we also found carved into the rock behind the waterfall.”

  Landry wrote out the series of letters that he’d copied into his notebook.

  Petey stared at them. “Roman numerals?”

  “Could be, but they don’t seem to make much sense.”

  Petey’s eyes lit up. “I’ll have a go at deciphering it. I love puzzles.”

  “My best friend is a geek,” Landry muttered.

  “I’m gonna get you that on a T-shirt,” Petey retorted.
“You’re definitely on the right track with the treasure map. How long do you think it will be before the men that attacked you and Gage last night realize they haven’t got the real map? That hiding place was inspired by the way.”

  “Wasn’t it? There’s no reason they should. I did a pretty good forgery, even if I do say so myself. If they test the paper, it dates to the late thirties. I took it from an old book that was falling apart. Mr. Lao has taught me everything he knows about spotting fakes. So I knew what not to do. The map was similar enough to the original to be realistic, I based it on the topography in Bellingham. They already know we went there so I’m not giving anything away, but what I did could be matched to dozens of other places.”

  “Then let’s hope they don’t come calling.”

  “I don’t think they’ve got any reason to. I’ve talked your ear off this morning, you haven’t told me what you and Carson got up to yesterday. Did he show you a good time?”

  When Petey blushed, he did it in style. His cheeks reddened, his neck got blotchy and even the tips of his ears went scarlet. Landry would bet that he was bright pink under his clothes too. “That good, huh?”

  “He has a really nice place. His dad came from money and his grandparents set him up with a trust fund when he was born. He doesn’t need to work but became a firefighter because he wanted to make a contribution. He has a house with a garden and he’s built this cabin on his land and installed a playroom.”

  “Oh, wow. That sounds amazing.”

  “He showed me everything, but we didn’t play. He said he wants to take things slow with me, learn what I like. He says we have time to get to know each other properly. He’s so different from the other Doms I’ve met, Lan.”

  “You’re falling for him.” Landry grinned. “I’m glad, he’s a keeper.”

  “I am really scared of getting too close. What if it doesn’t work out? He’s so… It’s just that all the subs at Scorch think he’s amazing. What does he see in me?”

  “Sweetie, if I could give you a transfusion of self-confidence, I would. You have nothing to worry about. I’m pretty sure that no one would buy pure silk ropes to tie you up with unless he thought it would make you happy.”

  Petey blushed even more. “They were pretty colors too. I’m gonna work on these numerals now.”

  “Okay, but we are going to revisit this topic of conversation. Frequently.”

  “I’m sure.” Petey grabbed a pad and pencil then escaped to the other end of the store, settling onto a chintz-covered chaise-longue that Landry couldn’t wait to get rid of.

  Landry grabbed the book of nursery rhymes to have a look through. He checked for any markings or writing that didn’t belong but didn’t find anything. It had a board cover and the colors were kind of faded. The publication date was 1942. It seemed to have been designed as an early reader for a child because it contained just six rhymes in large print. Landry was familiar with Humpty Dumpty and Little Miss Muffet. Hickory Dickory Dock he didn’t remember at all, but he could recite Jack and Jill. Ding Dong Bell was vaguely familiar, and he could remember his mom singing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star to him. He read through all the lines twice, but nothing jumped out as a clue. He even checked all the book’s seams and creases in case there were any hidden compartments, but the book was completely benign. Puzzled, Landry put it back in the tin then pulled out the sheaf of letters. He untied the ribbon, which was stiff with age and began to read, keeping half an eye on the door. The contents of the letters were mostly identical. Each was addressed to Royston, but there was no date. They were only signed with an initial, which could have been an I, J or T and made cryptic references to keeping something hidden. The something wasn’t described. “I know what we did was wrong,” Landry read. “Keep it hidden. This shouldn’t come out until long after we’re gone. No one should benefit from the horrors of the past.” Each letter, written in neat copperplate handwriting, in faded blue ink, said the same thing albeit in slightly different words. Landry read them all again, feeling the anxiety of the writer in every word. Whatever Royston and his correspondent had done, at least one of them had regretted it. That Royston had kept the letters suggested that he felt the same.

  “The mystery deepens.” Landry put everything back in the tin then shoved it to the rear of the shelf under the cash register, tucking his jacket around it. He had to spend at least part of the day justifying his salary and there was work to do. He left Petey to his puzzling and set about finding some good pieces of costume jewelry to put aside for the mailman.

  Other than a brief, heart-pounding moment when a motorcycle courier dropped off a package and didn’t remove his helmet, the day proved to be uneventful. Landry found time to read through the nursery rhymes again and do a bit of research into their background. He was horrified by the often grim history behind them. He read through the letters again too, remembering to hold the paper up to the light to check for watermarks, but remained frustrated by his lack of progress. He locked up early, as Gage had arranged with Mr. Lao, then he and Petey settled down to review their research. Petey was buzzing with excitement.

  “It’s taken me all day, but I think I finally worked it out. Literally, five minutes ago I had a jolt of inspiration. If you take the series of letters individually and assume they are Roman numerals, they don’t make any sense, at least nothing I could work out. But, if you group them together, like this…” He showed Landry a page of his pad, which was covered in scribblings. “XV XVI V XIX, that’s fifteen, sixteen, five, nineteen.”

  “I think my brain cells have definitely dissolved,” Landry said, “because that’s not making any sense.”

  “I didn’t think so either but then I thought I shouldn’t take the numbers at face value. I think it’s a simple code. If you match the numbers to the letters of the alphabet you get O P E S.”

  “Opes? Call me thick, but I don’t think that’s a word.”

  “Not in English it isn’t, but in Latin it is. I put the word through a translator, testing it in different languages. Guess what it means in Latin, Lan.”

  “It means smack your friend around the head so that he stops teasing.”

  “Well, like most Latin words, it’s open to some interpretation, but its main meaning is wealth. It can also mean treasure.”

  Landry gaped at his friend. “Oh. My. God. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

  Petey shrugged. “I don’t think so, do you?”

  Landry threw himself onto Petey to give him a bear hug. “You’re a genius!” The hug turned into wrestling and tickling until both Landry and Petey were howling with laughter.

  “What in the ever-loving heck are you two doing?” Landry extracted himself from Petey’s grip, rolled onto his back with his head in Petey’s lap and stared into Gage’s blue eyes.

  “Something you to want to tell us?” Carson stood next to Gage, arms folded, pecs bulging.

  “We were celebrating Petey’s code breaking skills,” Landry said, blowing the hair away from his eyes.

  Gage shook his head. “You’re supposed to be staying alert. What if it hadn’t been Carson and me coming in?”

  “The front door is locked, the security shutter is down and Mr. Lao is the only other person with a key.” Landry sat next to Petey and attempted to tidy his clothes. “Did you bring food?” He eyed the take-out bag Gage was carrying. “Smells yummy.”

  “Carson called me at the end of his shift, and we agreed to meet up and get Thai food on the way back.”

  “I approve,” Landry said. “We should have a shop picnic.”

  “That would be so fun!” Petey jumped into Carson’s arms, wrapping his legs around Carson’s hips.

  “Then that’s what we’ll do, cute stuff.” Carson and Petey started kissing.

  Gage rolled his eyes. “I guess that leaves us to move the furniture then.”

  He and Landry shoved enough seats together behind the cash desk that they could all sit around a low steamer trunk. He laid out
the food and unwrapped several sets of chopsticks while Landry found a stash of paper napkins. By the time they were done, Petey and Carson had finished sucking face and joined them. Petey was flushed and there were several hickeys marking his neck. His eyes were drugged and glassy.

  Landry laughed. “I’m glad you two came up for air. The food will get cold.” Petey squirmed his way onto Carson’s lap, grabbing a carton of noodles. “If we’re really unlucky,” Landry said to Gage, “they’ll start re-enacting that scene from Lady and the Tramp.”

  Gage snorted with laughter. “How about you tell us about your code breaking, I assume you’ve been exploring the contents of the tin today.”

  “In between customers, yes. I looked at the letters and the book of nursery rhymes. The letters make it clear that Royston was hiding something, and they were addressed to him in Bellingham, England, so he must have gone there on the way back from Europe when he was being repatriated. They don’t mention what he was hiding but the letters reek of guilt. The fact that there’s a newspaper clipping about a missing Raphael portrait in the tin, something that everyone assumes was stolen by the Nazis, makes me think that Royston and whoever was writing to him somehow got their hands on it. The portrait was the shape of the watermark on the map, and it was also on Royston’s headstone. It definitely wasn’t hidden with the tin behind the waterfall and that’s a good thing because it would have been ruined in the damp, but there doesn’t seem to be any indication of where it might be.” Landry shoveled more food into his mouth, wow this nasi goreng is amazing.”

  While Landry ate, Petey took over the story and explained how he had deciphered the code from the numerals Landry and Gage had discovered on the headstone and seen again behind the waterfall. “But the word itself, doesn’t get us anywhere. It’s just one mystery after another.”

  “The only things I haven’t had a chance to look into yet, are the coin and the medals,” Landry said. “They could be unconnected. They may just be things that meant something to Royston, but I still need to check them out.”