Treasure Sleuth

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Treasure Sleuth Page 3

by Amy Shaw


  "He really enjoys his walk," laughed Abby as Max raced on by brushing her legs.

  "Oh he loves it," said Margaret. "A little too much sometimes. We have to come out early because if we don't he ends up running all over the sand chasing other dogs and trampling over children's sandcastles!"

  "Max! Come on boy," Ken called out as he entered the downward track in the woods. The track was so narrow and steep they had to go single file. Max came running up behind and squeezed his way past their legs and the thorny bushes. "Good boy!" Ken was pleased he listened.

  The track widened slightly as the trees now lined either side, a large bank on the right, the cliff edge just a few feet away on the left. The sound of the water against the rocks below was getting louder as they made their way lower to the beach. Suddenly a squirrel jumped out from behind a tree and Max gave chase.

  "No Max! Come here!" shouted Ken as the squirrel scurried around the lose stony ground before scampering up a tree to safety.

  "Max careful! Get back here!" shouted Margaret in a tone of authority.

  But it was too late. Max skidded on the gravel and gave out a yelp before tumbling off the cliff edge.

  "Max!" Margaret cried out as Max disappeared from view.

  Ken turned and hugged her tightly as she burst into tears. It was a steep drop and there was no way a dog could fall from this height onto sharp, jagged rocks and survive. Abby was horrified and knew what this meant. She had seen dogs before at her mom's rescue center who had suffered falls or gotten hit by cars. It was a sickening sight and she knew Margaret would be devastated if she saw her poor doggy slumped over the rocks. She ran down the track as fast as she could, her heart pounding hard and tears blurring her vision. The roof of the lifeboat house came into view and the track became so steep that steps had been cut in. As she ran down the steps, concentrating to make sure she didn't fall as well, Abby reached ground level and ran out of the alley way onto the pavement and onto the slip way.

  Slowing down to catch her breath and scan across the rocks for the body, she saw a dark haired man walking towards her. He had his arms outstretched with Max draped across them. Abby wiped her eyes and began a slow walk down the slip way towards the sand fearing the worst.

  "I think somebody was trying to abseil, but forgot his ropes," the man said as Max wagged his tail.

  "Max!" Abby cried out. "Is he hurt?" she asked.

  "No he's fine, but I think I've torn my shoulder," the man responded.

  "Did you see him fall?" Abby asked, as the man bent down to put Max on the sand.

  "I saw a bunch of gravel fall from over there," he said stretching back up and pointing to the rocky cliff edge. "So I ran over and held out my arms half expecting a child to fall, but then I caught this great furry lump instead!"

  Abby was shocked. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. Although judging from the size of his muscular arms it shouldn't have been a complete surprise that he could catch a falling dog. She looked over at Max who seemed completely oblivious that he just cheated death and was now barking at the sea. She turned to the stranger and hugged him.

  "Thank you so much, that was the most amazing thing ever," she said.

  "Ouch," the man flinched.

  "Oh sorry," Abby said letting go and stepping back feeling slightly embarrassed.

  "You're welcome," he replied smiling as he took in Abby's beautiful swirls of chestnut brown hair resting on her rounded cheek bones. Rubbing his shoulder he asked, "You're American? "

  Before Abby could answer, Margaret cried out "Max!" as she and Ken came into view on the slipway.

  Abby immediately turned and shouted back, "He's fine Margaret, this man was under the cliff and... "

  "Mark! " Margaret interrupted. "Did you save my Max?! "

  Mark started walking towards the couple who were as shocked and relieved as Abby, "Hello Margaret, hello Ken, how are you both? "

  Max came bounding up the slipway without a scratch on him.

  "Oh Max, you silly, silly boy, " Margaret told him as she bent down and rubbed the side of his face with her hands.

  "We're very well, thank you Mark, even more so for seeing you, " said Ken as he shook Mark's hand.

  "Let me introduce you to... "

  "Abby? " Mark finished his sentence as he turned to Abby.

  Abby smiled and asked, "You're Mark Munro?"

  Mark nodded with a twinkle in his eye and turned towards Ken and Margaret. "Would you excuse us, Abby and I have an important coffee booked."

  After a hearty hug from Margaret, Mark led Abby to his car parked just a few feet away, and they drove up the steep track to the lighthouse. Driving through the open gate, Mark noticed the Fargo & Pitt sale board.

  "You're putting the lighthouse up for auction? " he asked Abby concerned.

  "Yes, it's going under the hammer this Friday morning. I fly back that evening."

  Mark pulled up next to the cottage and reached round to collect a package. "Then we don't have much time."

  "Time for what? " Abby asked.

  Mark didn't say anything and waited for her to unlock the lighthouse. Once inside Mark closed the chunky door behind them sending an echo ricocheting around the circular walled entrance room. There was an old mahogany closet on the left and Mark could see Eugene's dirty waders hanging up inside through the slightly opened door. Abby took hold of the metal framed banister and started up the stairs until she disappeared into the ceiling. The stairway was dimly lit by the sun dashing in through the small windows and bouncing off the white walls. Mark followed the scent of her perfume, up and round the narrow corners until the familiar bright wash of light poured down from the lantern room.

  "I would love to keep the lighthouse for this alone," Abby said as she stood against the large panoramic window looking down on the cove. Her enchanted gaze scanned across the sparkling waves in awe and told Mark it was a scene of beauty she wasn't used to.

  "Then why don't you?" asked Mark as he placed the package down on the circular sofa seat that rounded half the window.

  "It's complicated," Abby sighed. "My mom has a dogs rescue home and she needs the money to pay off a loan for an indoor rehabilitation center for injured dogs she built. She doesn't want to sell the lighthouse either but neither does she want to close up the rescue center. "

  Mark walked over to the cupboard and pulled out two mugs. After filling up the coffee machine with water he opened a drawer and pulled out the capsules turning to Abby to ask "Milk? Sugar? "

  "I see you know your way around Grandpa's kitchenette, " she said.

  "I should do," he replied. "I helped him build it."

  "Milk and one sugar please," she replied watching Mark and wondering about the relationship he had with her grandfather. She glanced through the window to her side. Hope Cove looked like a tiny model down below, the waves just barely visible as they lapped against the golden sands in complete silence. Cars moved about the green lanes like a model railway scene. The sea stretched out in front, a vast blue desert seamlessly meeting the sky. Only a scattering of boats and ships told you which blue belonged to the sea.

  "I could spend the rest of my life here," Abby enthused as she sprawled out on the sofa. "This view is so inspiring."

  "Yes your grandfather thought so too," Mark said as he handed Abby her coffee and sat down beside her.

  "So how is it that you knew my Grandpa?"

  "He hired me to build his website and write some copy for him. I was intrigued with what he asked me to write and wanted to meet him."

  "What website? What did he want you to write?"

  "Your Grandpa had a knack of finding rings on the beach."

  "Rings?"

  "Yeah, people's wedding rings. You see, when people swim in the sea, the cold of the water shrinks their fingers and their wedding rings slip off without even being felt."

  "My Grandma lost her wedding ring on vacation once, in the sea, and Grandpa went and bought a metal detector. He found
it a week later with a few other rings. I couldn't believe he spent a whole week looking for it."

  "He didn't. It only took him a couple of hours."

  "So why did he wait a week?"

  "He was waiting for the spring tide when the sea goes out further exposing more of the beach. Spring tides happen twice a month depending on the moon and it's gravitational pull. Your Grandpa simply waited until the sea went out and then walked right up to the area that your Grandma was swimming in the week before and found the ring."

  "Genius."

  "Yes he was. And he made sure he always went on holiday during a spring tide."

  "Hmm, and that's why he never went on vacation without his detector. So why buy a vacation home in Hope Cove when you could visit every beach and clean up?"

  "Because when he first came here with your Grandma he found more than wedding rings. He found a silver piece of eight."

  "That sounds like pirate treasure!"

  "It is. Kind of. From a Spanish Galleon."

  "Oh wait… the Peddy Row or something?"

  "The San Pedro, how did you know about that?"

  "That old couple, Margaret and Ken with the dog, said something about Grandpa and a Spanish ship."

  "Well, the old silver coin excited Gene so much that they kept coming back here on vacation and it was on one of these trips this lighthouse came on the market. I don't think your Grandma took much persuading especially because your Grandpa used all his money to buy it from selling a lot of the rings."

  "Grandma didn't need any persuading. She loved lighthouses. So he didn't sell all the rings?"

  "No, he returned as many as he could. There is a strange phenomenon called the long shore drift, and your Grandpa became a master of the science of sand and water to find rings."

  "The long shore drift? What is that?"

  "It's a strange thing where the tide sorts and sifts objects into order depending on their size and weight. As the tide pulls back it drags objects down the beach and then pushes them back up, moving them slightly from either left to right or right to left depending on where you are in the world. That's why you often get pebbles of similar sizes all bunched together and then further along the beach you'll find another cluster of small pebbles. At Hope Cove the drift moves west to east. Eugene would wait for the spring tide and then head over to his secret spots and sometimes would bring up several rings in less than an hour. All bunched and sorted thanks to nature."

  "My goodness. And Grandpa would return all the rings to their owners?"

  "Yes, the ones he could. He became famous here for it that if anyone lost their ring, the police would take details and a description of the ring. Gene would hand them all in and the ones recorded would get returned to their owners and any unclaimed were kept by Gene. Until one day when the wife of a guy called Robert Budzynski lost her ring down there in the cove."

  "Who is Robert Budzynski?"

  "He is in charge of a specialist unit with the British Museum who help locate and recover ancient artifacts and priceless treasures throughout the world. It turned out that Mr. Budzynski's office had hired your Grandpa 40 years ago when he was a private detective in the States to help track down the whereabouts of an artifact stolen from England and sold on the black market."

  "Really? I knew Grandpa worked some interesting cases but nothing like this."

  "You wouldn't have known. He would have been sworn to secrecy. Plus he would have wanted to protect his family from the people he went after."

  "So what about this website then?"

  "That came after he met Robert Budzynski. Because of the previous experience your Grandpa had, they hired him off the record to use his detective skills and help them locate lost artifacts here in Britain. Gene needed to set up an entity which would make it easier to get permissions to search grounds normally off limits. Plus, it would separate him from any big finds as his company would be registered as the finder, not him personally. He was worried his family would try and get their greedy hands on his money if they knew he had discovered priceless treasures."

  "Yes, well he's not wrong there. Mom always said her brothers were selfish, greedy money grabbers who only showed an interest in Grandpa when they wanted something from him."

  "That's why he wanted a website that would go with his business but still allow him to remain anonymous."

  "And then you met him?"

  "Yes, because at the weekends I would hunt for old Civil War hoards hidden by wealthy Royalists who had been killed in battle. I liked what Gene was doing and after working with him on a few little hunts he hired me to go after some big stuff. He did the research and I went out into the field."

  "And you would meet here at the lighthouse?"

  "Yes, in this room drinking coffee with this view. But there's more to this lighthouse than the view. And this is why you can't sell it."

  "Oh Mark, I don't want to sell the lighthouse either, but it's not my decision. In his will he left money to all his other sons and daughters and even some to his brother, but not to Mom. There was a little over two million in his account which we were all shocked by, but more shocked that it was split between those monsters who didn't give a crap about Grandpa, and were only interested in his money. They always said they would get his money no matter what, but Grandpa didn't even make it difficult for them. When the lawyer read the will, they all just laughed when they heard Mom got the dilapidated damp lighthouse. They had never been here and never wanted to. So that's why I'm here. To sell this place so Mom can pay the bank for the dogs center, otherwise it will get closed down and she'll lose everything. And then there's a good chance the dogs will get put down."

  "Shit. Isn't there anything else that can be done? "

  "No, she has no money left, and is maxed out on mortgages already. Mom and Dad have put everything into that place to help look after the dogs. Grandpa loved what Mom did and always promised he'd help which is why it was such a surprise when he didn't leave any of his money for Mom or the dogs."

  Abby looked around the room, her eyes welling up. It was clear to Mark she loved her Grandpa with all her heart, but there were conflicting emotions Abby couldn't understand.

  "He left us this place which is great and very generous, and of course his final wish was his ashes being laid to sea. Mom thinks he only left her the lighthouse because he knew none of the other family members would bother seeing out his wish. I swear he knew it would be me coming out here."

  "I think you're right. He did know it would be you. Because he didn't just leave you this lighthouse." Mark reached across the sofa to get the package. "He also left this. For you."

  5

  The Book

  "For me?" Abby asked as she took the package from Mark. The padded envelope was inscribed with her Grandfather's handwriting saying simply 'A.H.' on the front. Abby reached in and pulled out an old book called 'You Too, Can Be A Writer'.

  Mark asked, "Does that mean something to you?"

  "Yes," Abby replied, a tear rolling its way down the side of her nose. "He always encouraged me to be a writer but I was too scared."

  "Scared of what?"

  "Scared of rejection I think. I always wanted to be a writer since I was in kindergarten, but couldn't ever finish anything. Back then I wanted to write stories about him, he was the most exciting person I knew being a PI. But I guess life takes over and with working two jobs I never had the time."

  Abby leafed through the pages until she reached a large brass key pressed into a cutting of the lower half pages.

  "Well I can't read this now," she laughed as she pulled the key out. "I don't suppose you know where this unlocks?"

  "Before I show you, there is something you need to know," Mark said in a serious tone of voice. "Gene never used his real name on the website because he didn't want anything to trace back to you or your Mom. He knew that if the wrong people were to find out about you, they might kidnap you or do something hostile in order to stop him or force a ransom."
>
  Abby looked startled. "That's a bit extreme isn't it? I see people now and then metal detecting in fields, why all the secrecy?"

  "It's nothing to be alarmed by, it's only a precaution. Gene was a treasure sleuth that didn't always do things by the book. He loved the thrill of the hunt and would have never forgiven himself if anybody went after you to get to him. We use metal detectors yes, but we don't aimlessly plod around ploughed fields hoping for a chance find. Gene did serious research which led me to serious places you don't find other detectorists. Our machines are tools to assist us. Sure we find junk like pull tabs, rusted cans, and silver paper and good stuff that detectorists find like silver hammered coins, buttons and buckles. But what we go in pursuit of are things that Governments don't want the public knowing about."

  "Governments? You mean you work for more than one Government?"

  "Sometimes, yes. Sometimes we work against them."

  "And they hire you to go snooping for things? What things?"

  "Things so priceless that museums can't afford to buy so we receive a finder's fee. It's those finder's fees that formed your grandpa's estate and the two million."

  "So this key is why he left my Mom the lighthouse?"

  "Yes. I think he knew if the money was split equally between your mum and her other brothers and sisters they would also want a share of the lighthouse. But by them getting all of the money, they wouldn't care about the lighthouse or your mum."

  "Which is what happened, they don't care."

  "Right. So now all eyes are off your mum and she can do what she likes with the lighthouse and they won't bother her. They don't care if you sell it or if it gets knocked down. You could keep it as a holiday home for all they care."

  "But we can't keep it. I don't understand, you said something about a key and seeing my Grandpa's world. Are you telling me there's something valuable locked in a treasure chest that this key opens?"

 

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