“No, but there was a small symbol with an initial on the box,” Sue said.
“Did it look like this?” Sydney asked, taking out her phone and pulling up the picture of the coin.
Tim and Sue both looked at the picture.
“Yes, that’s the same symbol. Is that a coin?” Tim asked.
Sydney smiled. “It is. My grandfather left it to me with a letter when he passed away. It’s what sparked our interest in finding restored houses in the area and learning about them. Isn’t it interesting how homeowners hid things back then?”
Tim nodded, looking back down at the picture. “Why in the world would that symbol be on the box here in this house in Provincetown and on a coin found in Salem?”
With a half shrug, Sydney remained casual. “I don’t know. We’ve found the symbols in a few of the older homes in the Salem area.”
“Is that so!” Sue exclaimed, clearly excited.
The way Tim was staring at the coin had me curious.
“Have you ever seen that symbol before, Tim?” I asked.
His gaze shifted to me. “You know, when we found the box, I didn’t really pay attention to it. I thought it was maybe an initial or something. But now that I see it on the coin, I recall seeing it somewhere else.”
“Where?” Sydney asked, her voice loud and a little too excited. I took her hand in mine and gave it a light squeeze. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. We’ve seen it in a few places in Salem. I wonder if it was some sort of group at one time?”
I couldn’t help but look at her. She was quite a good actress.
Tim nodded, a focused expression on his face. “It could be. Where have I seen that symbol before? I want to say it was in Boston.”
“In Boston?” Sydney and I said in unison.
“Yes! Tim! I remember. It was in that graveyard—remember you mentioned seeing it on the wooden box? I had completely forgotten about that.”
I could practically see Sydney bouncing with excitement.
“Wow, how interesting,” I said, letting go of Sydney’s hand. “Do you remember which graveyard?”
Tim shook his head. “No. We did a whole graveyard tour and visited a few different ones. I’m sorry.”
Sydney’s shoulders sagged in disappointment.
“Do you still have the box and spoon?” I asked.
Sue smiled. “Oh, of course. We have everything. Some items are displayed in shadow boxes, others in storage boxes for safekeeping. Let me go grab the box. It’s upstairs.”
Tim motioned for us to continue to follow him as he guided us through the rest of the small house and out to the backyard. The home was decorated in antique pieces, and I was impressed by how they had really restored the house to what it probably looked like back when it had been built.
“Now, the house had been closer to the ocean, but it was moved to this current location. Then they put in the road out front,” Tim said as he handed Sydney and me an iced tea.
“Here it is!” Sue said, carrying a white box in her hands. She sat down at the table, carefully opened the lid, and set it to the side. Then she took out an old wooden box. It was beautiful, with intricate carvings on all sides. When she handed it to Sydney, I could clearly see the Alchemist symbol on the top of the box.
Sydney looked over at me and then at Tim and Sue. “It’s beautiful. Whoever the artist was, they did an incredible job.”
I could tell Sydney was holding her breath as she carefully opened the box.
“Use the cloth to take out the spoon. You wouldn’t believe the trouble we had getting that thing cleaned,” Sue said with a chuckle.
“I bet,” I replied.
Sydney unwrapped the linen cloth, took the spoon out, and examined it.
“What do the numbers mean?” Sydney asked.
“I’m not sure. We were thinking it was a date perhaps?”
Sydney handed me the spoon, and I studied it. I read the numbers out loud. “One, six, six, zero.”
“Seems most logical that it is a year, don’t you think?” Tim said.
“Yes. May I look at the box?” I asked, placing the spoon in the cloth and then gently down on the table.
“Yes, please,” Tim said while Sydney handed it to me.
I gave Sydney a look that I hoped she understood, motioning with my eyes to the box and then the backyard. When she started firing off questions at Tim and Sue, I knew she’d gotten the message loud and clear.
Distract them.
“Your backyard is stunning. Is that a tombstone over there?” Sydney asked, standing and making her way across the yard.
Tim and Sue stood and followed her.
I studied the box. I’d seen one like this in my Colonial America class in college. If it had been made the same way, I knew the inside of the box had a secret compartment somewhere.
Sydney laughed at something Tim said, causing me to glance over at them.
“Tim? Do you mind if I take a picture of this box? One of my old college professors had a box like this he’d found at an estate sale once. He would love to see this.”
Tim waved his hand at me. “Have at it, Mike.”
It wasn’t a lie. I would send the pictures to Professor Tully.
After snapping a few pictures, I found what I was looking for. I just needed something to pry the piece of wood apart and pray I didn’t break it. I took out the small pocketknife I always carried with me. I made sure to keep an eye on what Tim and Sue were doing with Sydney. They had walked off to the corner of the yard and out of my sight.
I gently pried the piece of wood until it popped off, and a small piece of paper dropped into the box. It didn’t appear to be as old as the box. I quickly opened it and read the two lines of numbers written on it.
Four, zero, one, four, three, two, seven, zero. The next line read seven, with a dash in front of it, five, two, seven, one, one, three, zero.
At the end of the line of numbers were two letters: R and C.
I took a picture of the writing and then took a picture of the piece of paper with the name R. COLLINS on it that had been tucked away with the spoon. I put my phone on the table and slipped the knife back into my pocket.
“Tim! Sue! Did you know there was a secret compartment?”
“What!” Tim said, rushing back over to the table. Sue and Sydney were hot on his trail.
“Yes, I was lifting the box over to look at the bottom and this small piece of wood fell out. This was inside.”
I handed the paper to Tim. Sue and Sydney stood there, transfixed on the paper in Tim’s hands.
“It’s more numbers and the letters R C.”
“That must stand for R. Collins, the name on that piece of paper,” Sydney said. “They must be dates!”
“That is amazing! Oh, Tim, this is so exciting. How in the world did we miss this?”
“If only we knew who R. Collins was,” Sydney stated as they all studied the paper, perplexed by the numbers.
I made a show of checking the time. “Syd, I didn’t realize how late it was. We’re going to miss our reservations if we don’t get a move on.”
With a confused look on her face, Sydney asked, “Reservations?”
“We’re meeting my parents in Boston. Remember?”
She tilted her head.
“Goodness, it will take you a good two hours to drive into Boston. I hope you won’t be late,” Sue said.
“It’s an early dinner. My mother is flying out to Chicago later this evening.”
Since my mother had flown back to Chicago two days ago, I knew Sydney would get the hint. We needed to leave now.
“Oh, yes, oh my. I can’t believe I forgot. Seeing all this history had it going poof, right out of my mind,” Sydney said.
I carefully placed the spoon back into the wooden box, then put the cloth and letter inside. I handed it back to Tim.
“Looks like we have a puzzle to figure out,” Tim said.
“Sure wish we could stay and figure it out w
ith you, but we really have to go. Thank you so much for opening your home to us.”
Sue gave us each a quick hug.
“Any time you kids are the area, you stop by and visit,” Tim said, shaking my hand and giving Sydney a hug.
“We will. Thank you for letting us see your home. It’s truly beautiful,” Sydney said as we walked back into the house. Tim set the box on the dining room table and walked us to the door where we said another quick good-bye and quickly headed down the path and up Commercial Street.
Once we were out of earshot, Sydney stopped and looked at me. “How in the world did you find that compartment? I’m positive they had professionals looking at all the artifacts in that house.”
“Colonial America History class. My professor had a box that had been made in the same style. Except there was no symbol carved onto it but there was a name. No wonder they all thought that the Alchemists symbol was an initial.”
“Okay, so what about the numbers on the spoon? And on that other piece of paper?” Sydney asked as I took her hand and we began to walk again. I couldn’t help but notice how she kept looking back over her shoulder. For a moment, she had an uneasy look on her face.
“The spoon most likely is a date; the ones on the paper are not dates.”
“Mike, how do you know? They could be anything.”
“Yes, but I have an idea what they are. We need to get to Boston.”
Tugging on my hand to slow me down, she asked, “Boston? Why Boston?”
I picked up the pace instead, causing Sydney to have to jog to keep up with me.
“Mike! Are you going to tell me?”
We ran up the steps to our rental house, and I punched in the code and opened the front door. Before walking in, I saw Sydney looking around.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
With a shrug, she focused back on me. “I don’t know, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that someone is following us.” I looked up and down the street before turning back to Sydney.
“It’s probably just your nerves.”
She nodded but still looked unsure. “So, the numbers on the paper?” she asked.
“They’re coordinates, and I will bet you anything they lead to somewhere in Boston.”
Mike
Sydney and I stared at the display on my laptop.
“Is that…?”
I nodded. “A graveyard in Boston.”
Sydney smacked me on the shoulder and jumped for joy. “Mike! You are brilliant. How in the world did you know those numbers were coordinates?”
“The first set I didn’t. Once I found the other ones and saw they were the same amount of numbers, two different rows, I put two and two together and figured out the clue. I am, after all, a damn good detective. I got your panties back, didn’t I?”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s not revisit that.”
“What about the numbers on the spoon?” she asked.
“Once the coordinates pulled up the graveyard, the spoon made sense. It was a clue, but not a great one. Sixteen sixty is when the Granary Burying Ground was established.”
“That is unbelievable,” Sydney stated as she looked at the laptop.
“Come on, let’s get going. We’ve got about a two-hour drive to Boston.”
Sydney ran into the room and quickly changed into jeans and sneakers.
“Bring a sweatshirt, baby. It might get chilly.”
“Got one. Let’s go!”
We raced out to the car, and Sydney put Granary Burial Boston into her phone. Traffic was light and the GPS said we would make it there in just over two hours.
“Are you hungry? Should we stop and eat something?” I asked.
She looked at me like I was insane. “Drive through anywhere—let’s just get there. I can’t believe this!”
After a quick spin through Chick-Fil-A, we made it to Boston in just under two hours. I may have broken a speed limit or two during that drive, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Sydney looked up from her phone. “There is a public parking lot on Beacon Street and Park Street.”
“Yeah, it’s right around the corner.”
She smiled. “I forgot your father lives here. You’re probably familiar with the area.”
Laughing, I pulled into a spot and turned off the car. “Just a little. Once we get there, let’s split up. You take one side of the graveyard; I’ll take the other.”
She nodded.
We walked down Park Street to Tremont Street and to the entrance to the graveyard.
Sydney came to a stop and stared into the graveyard. It was both eerie and fascinating to see the old tombstones and rock pathways. Some were large, ornate stones; others, simple stones on the ground. The north side of the cemetery had a long brick wall that also had tombstones placed in it. It was a strange feeling to walk into the cemetery, but I had no idea why.
“Well, let’s go look at the graves and see what we can find.”
I laughed and kissed her quickly. “I’ll take the left; you take the right.”
“Okay.”
After twenty minutes of looking at each stone, I sighed. This was going to take forever if we each stopped and looked at every single tombstone in this graveyard. I stopped at John Hancock’s grave and carefully studied it. Then I remembered Paul Revere and the painting of the Boston Tea Party at Tim and Sue’s house. I was positive it was his painting on the tile. I quickly walked over to his grave. After a thorough look around his grave, I pushed my hands through my hair and sighed. Then I glanced down and saw the Truth-seekers symbol on the path directly in front of the grave. I was almost standing on it. Glancing around the graveyard, I saw Sydney. She was looking at the tombstone, holding up her hands, and looking through a small hole she was making with her fingers.
What in the world is she doing?
I looked directly at the wall behind her. That’s when I noticed one grave that was not positioned like the others. I studied it and realized it was off by just a bit. Sydney looked up and saw me. She turned in the direction I was looking and then back to me. Then she smiled and walked over to me.
“I found a Truth-seekers symbol. And look at that tombstone? Does it look like it lines up with the symbol?”
“Make a triangle with your two pointer fingers. Then touch your two middle fingers and thumbs together like this. It makes a diamond shape. See? Put it right up to your eye.”
I mimicked the shape she was making.
“When you’re trying to focus on a spot that’s directly in front of you, it narrows your field of vision. Now, stand directly on the symbol and look.”
The moment I did it, I saw the tombstone on the wall that had been positioned differently from the others. If you stood directly on the symbol in front of Paul Revere’s grave and made the small shape to look through, you saw that grave.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, looking back at her.
“Grandpa showed me that. If you narrow your field of vision, you will see what you’re looking for.”
I grabbed her hand, and we walked over to that specific grave.
“If this works, we may have to find a hotel. That totally turned me on.” Sydney giggled, but that sound was followed by a gasp.
On the wall above the tombstone was the Truth-seekers symbol.
“Holy. Shit.”
“Mike! Mike, do you see what I see?”
“Yes.”
I read the name on the tombstone.
Robert Collins. R. Collins.
Sydney ran her hand over the symbol, causing me to look back up at it, and I noticed a brick that looked like it had been removed and then reseated. Maybe not in the last hundred years, but it had been removed at one time.
“We need to get that brick out of the wall,” I said.
Sydney spun around and her mouth dropped open. “What?”
“We need to see if there’s anything behind the brick.”
She slowly shook her head. “Mike, have you lo
st your mind? You’re a cop, not Nicolas Cage! You’re talking about defacing a very, very, very old cemetery.”
“I’m not going to deface anything. I’m just… looking.” I glanced around the cemetery and took into account the number of tourists that were there. If I started messing with a brick, one would notice. “I need a distraction, Syd.”
Her eyes widened. “And you’re making me an accomplice!”
I shot her an intense look. “Syd, I need a distraction.”
She tipped her head to the side, thoughtful for a moment.
“Please?”
“I can’t believe this. First, I took evidence. Now, I’m part of a gang that’s going around and taking things from dead people! We don’t even have a gang sign with our fingers spelling some gang name or whatever it is they do.”
“Part of a gang?” I asked with a laugh.
“That is what you took from that, Mike? That part? Not the part of taking something from a dead person!” She looked back at the entrance of the graveyard. “I still have a very weird feeling someone is watching us, Mike.”
“Considering what I’m asking you to do, it’s no wonder you’re paranoid. Let’s get back to the plan though. Distraction, Syd.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrow. “If something happens, I don’t know you. But… if it’s a distraction you want, you’ve got it. If I end up going to jail, you better call someone who knows someone who can present me with a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Leaning down to kiss her, I was met with the palm of her hand. “Oh no. No kisses for you, Officer McHotty.”
I watched as Sydney walked away from me full of sass. Part of me was sort of excited to see what she would come up with. Never in a million years would I have imagined she would do what she did.
She let out a laugh and then clapped her hands. The old cemeteries in Boston usually had at least a dozen or so tourists at any given time. Getting the attention of almost everyone in the graveyard.
“So you… you want to see some graves do you?” she called out.
A few people yelled back to her. “Yes!”
“How about a tale or two?”
There was another round of Yes! and some applause.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place, my friends. My name is Mary Bradbury. The year is sixteen ninety-two, and I have been accused of… witchcraft!”
Dangerous Temptations Page 18