Chapter Three

“Could I ask a favor?” Harry walked up to Louis who he had found in the museum writing in a notebook.

“Why certainly, what can I do for you?”

“I’m just busting with curiosity about this museum. Could I look around in here sometime?”

“Oh, I can do better than that,” Louis said closing his book. “The museum is closed today, but if you’d like, I can give you a private tour.”

“Would you? Oh, that’d be fabulous.”

“I have a few things to finish with. Meet me at the front desk in just a few minutes.”

* * * * *

“This exhibit consists of extremely rare and unique pieces.” Louis directed Harry’s attention to a case filled with pieces of armor. “We have been having a rather difficult time finding history on these. For instance, this dagger; its design is unlike any previously known. There is a small catch where the blade meets the handle. If it’s pushed in, the blade is released revealing several prongs. Our best guess is that the blade can be released for cleaning.”

Harry looked through the glass as Louis described with rehearsed accuracy various other pieces of a soldier’s kit. Helmets, shields, a small silver belt-buckle, shoulder-clasps and a drinking horn were among the effects. A metal sceptre with curiously-wrought designs carved on the handle lay next to a plaque explaining the belief that it belonged to a British chieftain that lived between 270-350 AD.

“This collection of coins,” Harry’s guide went on as he continued to the case in the center of the room, “dates all the way back to 61 AD. Considering their condition, they are worth a notable amount today. I don’t pretend to be an expert on the subject, but my friends do say I have quite an eye for old coins.”

Harry followed him as he spoke. On display in the case were a score of old coins, from gold and silver to less precious metals. “Which is that?” he asked.

“Which is what?” Louis said switching out of auto-pilot.

“The one that’s from 61 AD.”

“Oh, this silver one. It is imprinted with the image of Boudicca, who was queen of Iceni.”

“The who?”

“The Iceni. This coin represents the period of our history known as Celtic Britain. It was before the Romans came to power. All of Britain was divided into tribal territories. Each tribe had a monarch. Boudicca was queen of a tribe called the Iceni and ruled the territory from modern-day Norfolk to northwest Suffolk. Their capital city was really just a small, walled town called Venta Icenorvm. The only known industry of the Iceni was ceramics, but we haven’t any examples here in our museum, just the coins.”

“What are these other coins?”

“This one is quite old.” Louis pointed to another silver coin with the Caesar-like image of a man.

“It dates from 383 AD, during the reign of Magnus Maximus, Emperor of Britain. It is his image on the face. And this one,” he said moving further, “is from Post-Roman times. We’re pretty sure it was coined during the time of King Arthur, though we haven’t got a precise date.”

They continued to move through the museum’s several rooms, viewing jewelry and other ornate items, such as daggers and goblets. Among all the valuable artifacts, Harry noticed a plain wooden goblet unadorned by anything but carved artwork on the stem.

“This seems a little out of place among so many elaborate cups,” said the inquisitive detective.

“Yes, but this is the only exhibit with similar items.”

“Where did it come from? I mean, if it’s in a museum, it must have some history.”

Harry’s guide was at a loss. “No one seems to have any idea where it originated. It doesn’t seem to belong, but there is really no other place to display it.”

“You certainly have all the information about those exhibits memorized,” Harry commented to Louis as they returned to the main room of the museum.

“I forget a few things occasionally, so I try to keep my notebook with me when I give the tours. Though I must say I would much rather be curator of my own museum. Who knows?” he said with a smile. “Someday I might.”

“That must take a great deal of capital I imagine,” Harry commented.

“To be sure it does, but I expect to come in to a tidy bit soon. If you will excuse me I must go and help Patrick get ready for dinner.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, in the kitchen. Dinner is at six.”

Louis walked away leaving Harry in the main room of the museum. There was an information desk along one wall. A small computer sat on top and brochures were stacked near the edge. Harry took one and pocketed it. A large display with a miniature map of the museum and its tower dominated the center of the room. Seeing nothing else he could do here, Harry decided to find out if Randall was back, so that he might search the clock tower for clues.

* * * * *

“It won’t do any good. I’ve already looked in there.” Harry had come upon his young friend reading in the parlor and immediately presented him with a plan to search the tower.

“All the same, I would feel better if I searched the tower for myself.”

“You’re the detective. Maybe you will find something that I missed,” Randall said setting his book aside and standing up. “It’s this way. Oh,” he paused, “there’s no electricity. I’ll have to get a torch.”

“A torch,” Harry said, envisioning Randall lighting their way with a fiery blazing wand.

“Flashlight. Whatever you call it.” They went to the utility room and obtained two high-power flashlights and then proceeded to the tower. Entering a small chamber just outside the base of the tower, Randall retrieved a key from a nearby shelf and unlocked the door leading inside. A strong, musty smell overpowered the two as they opened it. The clock tower itself was five stories, as were the other three towers, but the fifth story of this one was twice as high as the others for it housed the face of a huge clock and all its inner workings.

The bottom four floors were all the same; there was a small hallway with a staircase leading up, and a door leading to the room on each floor, with the exception of the second floor which also had and entrance back to the castle. Although it was locked and obviously hadn’t been used for many years. The first two floors were filled with boxes, chairs and tables, and were used primarily as storage rooms. The third floor was also a storage room, but it was extremely dusty, and contained various parts for clocks, obviously a room Thomas had used for his clock-making. There were shelves and tables filled with pendulums, springs, gears, faces, cogs, and keys of all sorts and sizes. Empty sconces hung on the walls where candles once provided light.

Harry went to work examining the walls, floor, and ceiling, but everything was sealed and nailed in place tightly. He probed around the tables and shelves, but they were also solid.

“Nothing on this floor,” he announced after several minutes, “but I’m guessing this was the workshop Thomas used.”

“Oh, no,” Randall corrected. “This was merely his storage room for parts and things. His workshop is upstairs on the next floor.”

“Oh, fine,” Harry said in a why-didn’t-you-say-so-before voice. “Well then, I guess I’m done here. Let’s go see what the workshop holds.” When Randall opened the door to the workshop, Harry found that no flashlight was needed in this room. On all sides, large windows near the ceiling allowed in great amounts of sunlight. A rusty, iron chandelier hung from the ceiling to provide light, but its use had been discontinued. Several half-finished clocks lay about on tables, surrounded by broken parts, tools, and an assortment of other things. Clock casings filled the shelves along one wall, while a shelf along another wall held clocks that were apparently used for parts. A grandfather-style clock stood in one corner next to a large bookshelf containing dozens of dusty books.

“Oh, I think I’m going to have a headache,” Harry said.

“I’ve already looked at all the clock casings and through all the books over there,” Randall offered. “I didn’t find anything even remotely interesting.”

“Alright then,” Harry said. “Go ahead and check out the grandfather clock there, and I’ll check around for any hidden spaces.”

It was an hour before Harry and Randall stood back to survey the room once more. The floor, walls, and ceiling had been tapped to find hidden doors, the clocks had been minutely examined, and the chandelier thoroughly inspected.

“That was discouraging. I guess there’s nothing on this floor either.” Randall said when they had finished. He looked at his watch. “It’s five-thirty. We just have time to clean up before dinner and we can tackle the big clock afterwards.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Harry agreed.

* * * * *

Shortly after dinner, Randall and Harry entered the room at the top of the tower. The place was incredible. Massive gears turned slowly on their axles. A large pendulum almost twice as tall as Harry swung rapidly back and forth a few feet out from one wall, ticking off each second in deep thudding tones. The face of the clock filled one wall and was made of a frosty glass, allowing some light to filter in. A large spotlight hanging above the treasure hunters had recently been added to create a backlight for the face during the night. A large gong and mechanical hammer hung along another wall. Harry was stunned by the fantastic engineering.

“How is it kept running?” Harry asked after a few minutes.

Randall smiled. “This contraption here is responsible for that,” he said pointing near the door. A large wind-up spring hung from the wall, and several gears of various sizes ran down to a big lever. “When you pull on this lever,” he explained, “it turns the gears which are set up to magnify the pulling power, and re-wind the spring up there. That is the clock’s mainspring. You have to pull the lever back and forth quite a few times, but once it is completely wound up, it will work for a week or so before needing to be wound again. Cole makes sure the clock is always running.” Harry idly stepped over and pulled on the lever. It moved with incredible ease.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, “I thought it would have been a lot harder than that!”

“No,” Randall chuckled, “it’s geared down so much that it will convert just a little effort into a lot of turning power, but it also means you have to pull the lever numerous times. Wait a second.” He walked over to the gong and pulled out a little lever. “Now it won’t ring on the hour. It’s incredibly loud in here when it does.”

“Truly amazing,” Harry commented. “Now let’s turn back to the task at hand and find some treasure. We obviously can’t reach the ceiling, so why don’t we check out the floor first, and then the walls?” The floor appeared to be solid, but the two were eager to find something unusual and remained dogged in their search. After nearly an hour on their knees, Harry’s back ached from bending for so long. He sat back against the door and looked up at the workings of the clock. His eyes followed the movement of the gears. Starting at the face of the clock, he watched as one gear turned another until he was watching the slow movement of the pendulum.

Randall glanced up to see him staring intently. “What’re you looking at?”

“Look at that wall behind the pendulum.”

“Where?”

Harry got up and walked across the small room. The pendulum swung back and forth between himself and the wall, where a roughly one-foot-square section of the stones seemed to be unattached to the rest of the wall. There was no mortar around the segment.

“Look. Right there.” He traced the outline of the section with his finger. “How do we get this thing to stop swinging?”

“Uh, one of the gears connecting it to the spring would need to slide out of line. Here.” Randall found one gear that had been made with a short handle across one side. He gave a tug on the handle, and the pendulum, robbed of its power, slowed to a stop.

Harry gave a push on the wall. “No, nothing’s happening.”

“Well, maybe we should push harder,” came the reply.

Randall walked over and braced himself with Harry against the small stone section of the wall. They pushed, but it moved only a fraction of a hair, like it was being held in place by something. “I think we just found something,” Harry said.

“Yeah, but what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s try again.” This time, each stood with his back to the other and braced a shoulder against the wall. Putting all their weight against it, they tried again.

Still nothing.

“Should I get a crowbar?” Randall offered.

“No, we might damage something important,” Harry said. “If it is important, there must be some kind of a catch or lock somewhere that will open this up.”

“Oh come on! How would we ever find it? I’ve already been over the clock lots of times,” Randall complained.

Harry thought for a moment. “We’ve been looking for something that was hidden. If there is a catch to open this thing, it could be hidden in plain sight. Anyone who knows as little about clocks as I do would have a tough time telling the difference between gears used to run the clock and gears used to open this wall.”

Once again they investigated the clock, but this time they observed the machine’s workings. After a few minutes Randall spoke up. “The only thing that seems to me even remotely unusual, is that the axle the pendulum swings on runs into the wall about three feet above that section of stone.”

“That’s not much to go on. Anyway, it’s getting late,” Harry said. “We should probably get to bed and sleep on it. Maybe we’ll think of something tomorrow.”

Randall slid the handled gear back into place, and the two gave the pendulum a hard shove to get it going again. After replacing the lever for the gong, they descended the stairs. Randall locked the door to the tower, and they retired to their rooms.

Chapter Two

“Good morning! Sleep well?” Randall asked cheerily when Louis and Harry entered the breakfast room. Louis continued on through another door and soon re-appeared with a tray of coffee, eggs, and bacon.
“Just fine thanks, though I did hear some weird sounds, probably just my imagination.” Harry seated himself in a chair near Randall as Louis served the meal. Harry poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Aunt Harriet, this is Harry Thorton,” Randall said addressing a woman seated at the opposite end of the table. She had dark brown hair, which she wore pulled back from her face, and a pair of steel-rimmed glasses.
“Harry, this is my aunt, Harriet Saunders. Harry is here on business, but has accepted my invitation to stay here for a few days.”
“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Thorton,” Harriet said.
“The pleasure is mine.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Harry,” Randall said turning to the detective, “but I’m afraid I won’t be able to show you around the castle today like I’d hoped. I have several errands to take care of in town. You may have the run of the place. Is that all right, Aunt Harriet?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” she said with a little sniff, and the adjustment of her glasses. “But don’t break anything, don’t leave things lying about for others to pick up, and stay out of the way of the museum tours.”
“Yes ma’am, I’ll try,” replied Harry.
“No, you will succeed, ” she said correctively. “Now I must be off, I’ve other things to do than chatting with you two.” With that, she rose and left the room.
“How old is she? 200?” Harry whispered to Randall
“No, she’s not that old really, only in her thirties. She’s stiff sometimes, but don’t mind her.” Randall finished off the last of his eggs and rose from his chair. “I am sorry, but I must be going too. Enjoy your stay, and watch out for Aunt Harriet!”
“I have great hopes of doing so,” Harry muttered to himself.

* * * * *

That afternoon Harry found himself speaking in the library with Larry.
“So, Randall tells me your a researcher. What sort of things do you research?” Harry inquired.
“Nothing in particular, but he is right. There is little else I enjoy more than discovering the origin and history of things,” Larry replied. He was a small man in his mid-twenties. He had light brown hair and a moustache that made him look like a history teacher.
“Well, what sorts of things?”
“Just things really--antique furniture, local customs and cultures, family genealogies.”
“Really,” Harry sounded impressed. “Have you studied those men whose paintings hang in the Great Hall?”
“Only Richard. Since most of my work concerns the museum and his collections, I never had reason to find out about the others.”
“That’s too bad,” Harry said a bit dismayed. “I was curious about the man William. I can see what everyone else’s interests were just by looking at the portraits, but it only shows him holding a book. Was he a writer?”
“I could find out about him if you like,” Larry said with a sparkle of enthusiasm in his voice.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your work.”
“No, not at all! It’ll be great. I’ve wanted to have an excuse for it anyway, and this will give me some motivation. I won’t be here tomorrow, so whatever I find I’ll leave on the desk here.”
“Thank you very much. You’re most kind,” Harry said and left the library.

* * * * *

Wandering around the castle, Harry soon came to a wooden door leading to the courtyard from one of the corridors off the Great Hall. A large fountain dominated the center of the yard, and ivy covered much of the walls. Various well-trimmed plants dotted the grounds. A blonde woman in her thirties came out of a greenhouse which stretched the entire length of the opposite wall. She wore a gardening apron over her green blouse and blue jeans, and carried a notepad in one hand.
“Hello there!” Harry called out. “You must be Diane.”
“Yes, I am,” she said as she took Harry’s outstretched hand. “Diane Renninger. And your name is?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harry apologized. “Harry Thorton. I’m a friend of Randall’s. He’s invited me to spend a few days with him while I’m in the area.”
“So, what are you doing here?”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected the sudden question and was caught off guard.
“I mean, your accent gives you away. You obviously don’t live around here. You’re touring the country maybe? Delving into the history of the place? Or do you appreciate the variety of art and fine music our little town provides?”
Now Harry realized she was teasing him. “Actually I’m on business,” he replied, “but I couldn’t say no to staying in a castle for a few days before leaving again. You must enjoy it.”
“Oh no, I don’t live here,” Diane explained. “Mrs. Saunders has agreed to let me study the plants here in the courtyard and the conservatory over there, but I live in town. Personally, I think the botany would make a fantastic addition to the museum here.”
“But the museum is all the way over in the west wing,” Harry interjected.
“Yes I know, but that door over there,” she indicated with her pen a second wooden door near the one Harry had come through a moment ago, “is a corridor which comes out on the outside of the castle. If there were a path from the public gardens to the corridor, no one would have to go through the private rooms of the castle.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Harry commented approvingly.
“Yes, I thought so,” Diane said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.”
Lacking a set purpose, Harry wandered through the door and down the corridor Diane had pointed out, and meandered across the grounds for some time. It was a clear day and Harry spent some time walking through the gardens and inspecting the shrubs and flowering plants. Harry found that the gardener was fond of green plants, for there were several corners of the garden in which there were no flowers to be seen. He discovered a shady walkway which was sheltered by evergreens on both sides. Harry walked along this path for some time until he came to a stone statue in the center of a small courtyard. The evergreens gave way to high hedges which bordered the walkway in French Renaissance style. Several stone seats which would invite a person to rest sat along this neatly trimmed wall. He sat down and began thinking over what Randall had told him.
A little speckled wren landed on a nearby bench. The little bird hopped along, paying no attention at all to Harry, affording him someone to talk to.
“If the treasure had been hidden by men who had lived centuries ago, it would have to be in a place that would ensure its secrecy. Surely it could not simply be buried in the ground. Most of the outbuildings were modern structures, and it could not be hidden in them.”
The wren suddenly took flight and landed on the statue a few feet away.
“It must be inside the house somewhere. But where in the house could you hide a treasure and be sure no one would find it accidentally?”
His new feathered friend looked curiously at him from the shoulder of the statue and, as though concluding that there was no help to give, swiftly took flight and disappeared among the bushes.
Harry turned his eyes from where the bird had disappeared back to the statue. It was a life-sized image with a medallion necklace draped around its shoulders.
Curiosity won out and Harry rose to look more closely at the medallion. As he tried to lift the heavy chain, he noticed a stone bar on the back of the statue. It ran from the back of the head to the shoulders down between the shoulders, securing the bronze chain from being removed. Thinking the face looked familiar, Harry thought it must be one of Randall’s ancestors whose picture had been in the hall. He made a mental note to ask him about it and turned to leave the garden.
Harry wandered along the edge of the property until he came to a wide clear lake. Finding how far he had walked wrapped in his thoughts, he turned to make his way back to the house when he spotted a dock. As Harry walked closer, he saw a big fellow in hip waders repairing a piling for the dock. A golf cart was parked at the edge of the lake, with a toolbox resting on the seat.
“Watch out for sharks!” Harry called out, coming nearer to the cart.
The man looked up from his work and grinned. “There are no sharks in this lake. We’d surely know about it. Besides, it’s freshwater. You know, visitors aren’t allowed down here by the lake. You should get back to the museum.”
“Oh, I’m not a visitor,” Harry said. “That is, I am a visitor, but not to the museum. Randall invited me to stay a few days with him.”
“Oh in that case, let me introduce myself,” the man said wading out of the water. He extended a large hand to Harry. “Cole Evers. Resident repairman, groundskeeper, and as needed, a chauffeur.”
“Harry Thorton.”
“Go ahead and keep talking.” Cole said. “I’m going work on this piling.”
“This is quite a set of wheels you’ve got here.” Harry nodded his head toward the golf cart.
The man grinned again. “It gets me around faster than walking.”
“Might I use it sometime?”
“Sure, it’ll be in the shed anytime you need it. Just make sure you plug the battery in so it charges again.”
“Worked here long?” Harry asked.
“Oh, about sixteen years.”
“Do you know who was here before you?”
“As far as I know, no one. But if there was, he did a terrible job let me tell you. Everything was dilapidated and grown over when I got here. Well, that’s that,” Cole said when he finished repairing the piling, “I’ll have to talk to Randall sometime about replacing some of these planks. I can give you a ride back up to the house if you want.”
“I’d appreciate it.” A few minutes later Harry was sitting at a small round table in his room, turning on his laptop. “Where to go from here?” he thought to himself. “Those brothers must have left clues. If they did, they would want to make sure they lasted a long time.” He opened a blank document and typed in six names, leaving a space under each one.
“Let’s see, Walter’s hobby was chess.” He started typing under Walter’s name. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for anything that’s really old and concerns chess. Charles. Hmm. The statue in the courtyard looks just like him. Maybe that’s where he did his gardening. He couldn’t have left any clues in the plants. They’d have died by now. Oh, gravy! I hope he didn’t really bury anything. The statue, the fountain, and the conservatory--they look like they’ve been here a while. I should probably check them out, and maybe the walls around the courtyard.” He looked at the next name on his list. “Edmond was a carver so any work he did that’s still around, and any workshop that he had needs to be checked into as well. Hmm, nothing on William yet.” He moved down the list again to Thomas’ name. “A clock maker, huh? I hope I don’t have to look inside all the clocks in the castle. Wait a minute,” he murmured. Harry got up to walk across the room. A high tower caught his eye as he peered through the window. An immense clock in the tower slowly counted the time. “A clock tower. Definitely worth investigating.” He returned to his laptop. “And last, but not least, Richards collections. Maybe I should find Louis and start with a look around the museum.” He saved his notes, put away the computer, and went in search of Louis.