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.