by Molly Greene
Madison sank down beside her with the box in her lap. Finn stopped in the doorway and meowed, then strutted into the room and climbed into Gen’s lap. He cranked up a loud purr, then stretched a paw into the crook of her elbow.
Gen hugged the cat. “Finnegan Blackburne, do you approve?”
A draft fluttered the curtains.
Madison rattled the box, then turned it so the lock was facing her. She tipped it to the light, squinting as she pushed the key in.
It fit. She turned it, and the lock was open.
She lifted the lid. A pile of folded papers filled the box. On top was an envelope inscribed MB, written in Mallory’s hand.
She closed the cover with a snap. “I’m afraid.” She traced the swallows with a fingertip.
“Of what?”
“That we’ll find out she was a bad person.”
“We know Mallory did things people would disapprove of. Let’s see if we can find out why.”
Madison scowled, but opened the lid again and took out the envelope. The flap was sealed with red wax and stamped with her initials.
She carried the letter into the office, opened it cleanly with a letter opener and returned, tapping the heavy vellum against her palm.
“Go on, already,” Genny urged.
Madison shook out the single folded page and read it.
Dearest MB,
You’re a smart one to have gotten this far, and I am pleased for both of us. Your mind is clear and your senses sharp. First, I must apologize for leaving unresolved issues that you have been forced to deal with.
Second, I must try to explain.
I chose a man whose head was in the clouds, forever enamored of birds, but his feet were firmly rooted in this earth. He was a deep thinker who spoke only the truth. I believe my journey and my husband’s will always be intertwined.
Edward loved me, this house, and the land. It was his back bent beside mine, toiling in the flowerbeds. This I know is true: A man who is inspired to work the soil will be a patient, long-sighted companion who has the depth to see that what he fashions will benefit his body, heart, and soul. And he plans to be around to enjoy the harvest.
Edward Blackburne helped me understand that people can be loving, joyful, committed. That we can do well and do good. That if we wish, we can live a life that is far removed from the one we were born to. We can acknowledge that what we are currently experiencing may not be what we want for our future.
We can use this truth to become a better person.
He taught me about choices. We each encounter forks in the road, some of them critical. The path we choose can turn us toward the light or the dark. With his help, I finally chose the light.
My husband tutored me in this: It is not pre-determined that we are destined to be one thing or another. We are here to decide who we want to be, then to build the life we envision. I may have disappointed others, but the person I have become is, in fact, my greatest accomplishment.
I have not disappointed me.
As you focus on what is possible, the reality you believed was yours will fall away. “As you sow, so shall you reap.” It means, of course, that what you plant is what you harvest. As you begin to cultivate hope, then belief and expectation, these thoughts will create what will come to pass. This happened for me, and it will also for you. All the glory of your life as you wish it to be lies before you.
Mallory
Genny rubbed her forearms. “That gave me goose bumps. It’s like she wrote that to you, only it was forever ago. How could she possibly have known?”
Madison picked another letter from the pile. “Taegan says Mallory had the gift.” She dropped the papers back. “Hey, you were starving, sorry. What do you want to do about dinner? I’ve ruined your plans.”
“Changing the subject? I would have totally scoffed at the gift thing a few months ago.”
“I know.”
“I said I would have scoffed. I’m becoming a believer.” Genny put Finn on the floor and stood. “Let’s adjourn to the kitchen while we find out if Mallory gets down to the nitty-gritty.”
* * *
Downstairs, Gen rummaged through the fridge and carried leftovers to the table. She added goblets, plates and cutlery, and a bottle of wine. Madison heaped rounds of bread with artichoke spread and piled them on a plate.
She pushed the letters across to Gen. “Your turn,” she said.
Genny took out a page and began to read.
To all whom it may concern:
On the date these papers are discovered, should any legal doubt cloud the title to my home, I hereby grant unconditional ownership of the land, buildings, and any possessions that remain to the current, full-time resident of the house at 1206 Mill Creek Road. To that person I bequeath everything that was mine, forever overriding and completely irrespective of any legal claims others may have made or may make in the future.
“It’s signed, dated, and notarized,” Genny said. “How do you feel about your right to the property now?”
“I’ve never been so lucky,” Madison replied. “Keep going.”
Genevieve skimmed another page and choked on a piece of bread. “The key to Nead Éin opens the safe in the dovecote. The plate is there.” Genny gasped. “Taegan said the words mean bird’s nest. It’s literal. The pigeons are hiding something.”
“Plate?” Madison said.
“Let’s go look,” Gen said. “Bring the key.”
Madison took the stairs two at a time and got the copper square and its key from her jewelry box. She stuffed it in a pocket of her jeans. They threw on jackets, pocketed a flashlight, and locked the doggie door so Finn and Jack wouldn’t follow.
Gen hurried ahead as they jogged to the carriage house.
She stopped. Her hand shot up, palm toward Madison. She threw a finger across her lips and turned her face back toward the light, then gestured for Madison to catch up.
The garage was open.
Gen pulled Madison close, and they tiptoed to the crack in the door.
Madison put an eye to the opening, then cupped her palms around Gen’s ear and whispered. “There’s a dim light coming from the tunnel.”
“Did you see anyone?”
Madison shook her head.
“Let’s get a closer look,” Genny whispered.
They edged back. Madison pulled on the handle, and the garage door crept open another foot. She tapped it again. It slithered back another twelve inches.
They squeezed in and snaked along the wall. Gen listened at the passage entry.
“Hear anything?” Madison asked.
Gen signed no.
“See anything?” Madison asked.
“Light. Coming from there.” She looked at Madison. “Somebody’s down the rabbit hole.”
They slipped through, felt along the earthen wall, and reached a pile of brick where the tunnel had been blocked.
Madison yanked Gen back. “It’s got to be Seeley.”
“Let’s go find out,” Genny whispered. “I’m not afraid of him.”
The tunnel descended toward the house. She pulled Madison through the rubble, then edged down the corridor toward the flicker of light.
The excavation appeared sturdy and safe. The roof was constructed of two-by-fours, supported by thick posts cemented into the ground along the route.
They slowed when they saw the channel open into a dimly lit room beyond. “Get ready,” Genevieve whispered. “Whoever’s there will see us soon enough.”
They flattened against the passage wall and slipped forward. As the end grew near, they stopped, waiting in the shadows just beyond the lamp glow.
Madison flinched at the sound of a low voice.
Someone they couldn’t see began to speak in a hushed monotone. They lurched back into the darkness and pressed themselves against the earthen tunnel wall.
Chapter Forty
The voice receded while they hid in the gloom, as if a whispering wraith was deep in the shadowy caver
n.
It was not Seeley.
It wasn’t a man at all.
She held on to Genny’s arm. No telling what her friend might do when she realized the intruder was female.
Gen squeezed her hand, signed stay in Madison’s palm, then grasped her fingers and held on tight.
Madison’s eyes adjusted to the murky gloom. The passage they were in was below the kitchen. She saw a bare fixture overhead. The unmarked fuses in the electrical box must feed this basement.
The cavern appeared clearly before them. At least, what they could see of it. Madison bet this was the missing crawl space beneath the living room.
The roof was ten feet high. Twelve-by-twelve beams ran the length of the ceiling. Two runs of copper pipe were attached to the tongue-and-groove pine.
Plumbing for Gen’s bathroom.
The rock walls extended to the east. The one they could see was lined with sturdy metal shelving. Boxes from the paper company that housed the National Geographics sat on the lower tiers. Green canisters were stacked two high above them.
A flame glowed in a lantern on a table against the back wall. Its beam revealed a fine, floating cloud of dust, as if surfaces had recently been disturbed.
An old machine commanded the center of the room. She focused on the metal contraption, noting rollers and levers and a big central drum. It was an antique printing press.
The Blackburnes must have printed the money here.
Without warning, a figure dressed in a black coverall moved into sight, head and shoulders swathed in a dark scarf. Genny clutched her arm.
The wraith was human, after all.
The intruder stroked the machine and spoke in a low voice. “So close now.”
Madison felt as if she was part of an audience watching a creepy play. But who was the main character?
Like an owl swiveling its head to pinpoint prey, the figure sought out the pair hiding in the shadows.
It was Evelyn Udell.
She held a gun with a steady grip, and it was pointed at them.
“The woman in Velasco’s elevator,” Genevieve murmured. “It was her.”
Evelyn fingered one of the currency bands and raised the vivid image toward them. “The Mark of the Loon.” She set it atop the press.
“I’ve been waiting for years. First tracking Siobhan, then finding out about the damn cat. Then, after all these months, trying to gain access to her things. Imagine my excitement when you approached me for help.”
Evelyn had to be close to ninety years old, yet her face was glowing and alive. Her expression was wicked. Animated. Intelligence and cunning were obvious in her face. Her voice contained a bubbly lilt, as though a lover was nearby.
“They were arrogant to use the illustration. It led me to them. But even Edward had no idea how apropos his life’s work would be, on so many levels. The Red-Throated Loon mates for life. The icon that represented their deception also reflected their commitment.”
She tipped her head. “Come, girls, join me.”
Genevieve’s adrenaline kicked in and she turned, tugging Madison with her, and tried to run away.
Evelyn stopped them with two words. “I’ll shoot.” Her voice held no emotion. “No one will hear.”
Genevieve whispered, “Remember, we’re a team.”
“Hands where I can see them,” Evelyn snapped. “Madison, you’re mild-mannered enough, but I’m afraid Genevieve is too clever for her own good.”
Palms up, they walked into the room.
“You should have gone to dinner. My ruse would have kept you out of harm’s way, happily sipping wine.” She smirked. “What’s the matter, angels? Cat got your tongue?”
Genny crossed her hands behind her back and didn’t say a word.
“How are you involved with this?” Madison’s heart was pounding.
“I was Siobhan’s handler during the war. We didn’t know she was a British counterspy, bent on exposing the pro-Nazi Irish Blueshirts and the deal they made with Hitler. She did it for Ireland.”
Evelyn’s voice took on a mocking tone. “We trained her in espionage. She excelled, so she was sent to collect a prize from one of our Soviet spies. She was to pass the plates to me in Finland.”
Gen dropped her hands. “You were the woman wearing the German uniform in the photo with Mallory.”
“Yes, that was me,” Evelyn said, smiling like a proud grandmother. “You have skills.” Her voice grew hard. “Now be a good girl and put your hands up.”
Gen raised her palms and continued. “They were printer’s plates, weren’t they?” She laced her fingers and rested them on her head. “For counterfeit money.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. “What have you found?” She jerked the gun three times. “Come.”
Gen took a step forward. “Nothing.” Her voice was bland. “We trusted you. If we knew something, we’d have gossiped about it. We weren’t trying to keep secrets.” She paused.
“I just put two and two together, that’s all. I remember reading about Hitler printing fake British pounds, trying to bankrupt the English.”
Evelyn nodded. “The Russians were counterfeiting long before we tried to crush England. Our man lifted some British and American plates. Siobhan was trusted. She was assigned to retrieve the fakes and deliver them to me.”
“Fool.” She shook her head. “She broke the rules and fell in love.”
Evelyn’s face contorted. She began to babble. Anger diluted her concentration. “When the Brits discovered the affair, they recruited Edward to act for the Allies while he was at Rybachy.”
Genevieve eased ahead until her back was to Madison. She took advantage of Evelyn’s distraction and moved her hands behind her.
Slowly, carefully, she signed a word. Plan.
She repeated it, clearly hoping Madison would see and understand.
“Siobhan gave him the plates. He passed the lot to his British contact. But word came back from Churchill’s camp that the Tommys did not have them all. Siobhan had kept the American five dollar bill.”
“Mallory,” Madison whispered.
“No,” Evelyn spat. “Siobhan O’Quinn. She wanted to help the children of Ireland.”
“She took it for the kids,” Genny said.
“Turncoat,” Evelyn growled. “I was presented to the Soviets to take the fall.”
“Maybe part of her plan was to ruin you,” Madison whispered.
Behind her back, Genevieve signed good and gave Madison a thumbs up.
“I was imprisoned.” Evelyn’s hands were shaking. “Until the end of the Cold War. Luckily, I’d managed to conceal my share of the spoils of battle before I was taken. In the end, we had much in common, your Mallory and I. The conflict padded our pockets, although we used our funds for opposite purposes.”
Genny’s hand moved again. Ready.
“All these years I’ve searched. To make her pay. To take back what was mine. Unfortunately, the Americans were grateful for her intervention. They placed her in a protection program, changed her name, gave her a new life. As it turns out, they didn’t learn about the stolen plate until last year.”
Genevieve signed again. Put out light count three. One.
Evelyn babbled on. “I didn’t give up. At last, I found Edward. I gained a false background of my own and sought the University appointment. I waited, watched. I knew the prize was close.”
Genevieve signed two.
“Edward didn’t know who I was. It was child’s play to make him fall ill. I intended to kill them both, but he had to go first. I wanted Siobhan to feel the loss. After he died, I revealed myself.”
“So you killed her, too.” Madison asked.
“No. She took that pleasure from me.” Evelyn began to laugh. “The night I came to reclaim what was mine, she confessed the plate had been shipped over in the cupboard. I shoved her against the wall, drove a knife into the rock. I demanded to know where she’d hidden it.
“But I was robbed of her fear. Facing
death made her stronger. Then the cat attacked with a fury that forced me from the house. I left empty handed.”
“That’s why Finn hates you.” Madison’s voice was hard as stone. She braced herself to leap for the lantern, waiting for Genny to give the word.
Evelyn’s eyelids drooped. She paused, then heaved a breath. “A week later I returned. Again my plans were thwarted. Siobhan had a heart attack. I followed her upstairs. She died rather quickly. It seemed she was ready. After her death, the legal trust proved unbreakable.”
Like an eerie scene from a cop movie, a light roared to life behind them. Someone scrambled from the tunnel in a landslide of pebbles. When the intense glare blinded Evelyn, Genny and Madison hurtled toward her.
“I’ll drop you where you stand!” She dodged, then used them as a shield to protect her eyes from the beam.
“Frank, you idiot, you nearly blinded me,” she screamed.
Gen and Madison stopped, then pivoted to get a look behind them.
It was Janice Young. She held the steely muzzle of a revolver.
It was pointed at them.
Janice waved the weapon and barked, “Stay put.”
Madison slumped against Gen. “Keep it together,” Gen whispered.
Evelyn kept the girls between Janice and herself, then adjusted the gun to get a bead on the newcomer.
“Frank, I hardly recognize you,” she said.
“Your idiot sidekick is tied up in the bushes with duct tape over his mouth,” Janice said. “He’s not exactly competent.”
“Beggars can’t be choosy.” Evelyn smirked. “Frank is a bit inept, but loyal. I learned my lesson about traitors long ago.”
Janice appeared unconcerned with the aim of Evelyn’s weapon. She grinned at Madison. “As for you, Miss Better-Than, you sure bought the ditzy blonde routine. Never underestimate a woman.”
She turned her attention away. “Nice to finally meet you, Dr. Udell. I watched you covet the place until Bill Barr checked out and everything went to hell.”
“What does this have to do with you?” Genny asked.
Janice’s voice was hard. “Let’s just say Mallory Blackburne alienated my father and ruined my childhood,” she replied. “I’m here to collect.”