“We don’t know,” Frank admitted. “Yet. We’re working on it.”
“Let us help,” Marie-Laure pleaded. “What can we do?”
“For now, keep your eyes and ears open,” Frank suggested. “And tell us anything that feels odd or out of place.”
Joe added, “And next time you decide to sneak around in the middle of the night, warn us. We need our beauty sleep.”
Jean-Claude yawned so widely that the hinges of his jaw gave a loud click. “We promise,” he said. “I wonder … are we foolish to put so much hope on a mythical treasure? Our grandfather liked to quote the motto on the Fréhel crest: True wealth is found around the family hearth. I think that may be very wise.”
The four left the chateau and started back to the village. Frank touched Joe’s arm in a silent signal. They slowed down to let Jean-Claude and Marie-Laure get well ahead of them.
“What?” Joe asked quietly.
“Just a thought,” Frank replied. “If TVI is a success, the Fréhel family has pledged to turn the village over to the organization. That leaves them owning a useless chateau that needs very expensive repairs. But if TVI fails, what then? The family sells the village and chateau to Immo-Trust for a lot of money. And they get to tell all their friends they were forced into it.”
Joe stopped and put his hand on Frank’s arm. “Are you saying the ones working with Immo-Trust to wreck TVI are Jean-Claude and Marie-Laure? That’s ridiculous!”
“Probably,” Frank responded. “I hope so. But we can’t ignore the possibility. They do have a motive, one of the most powerful around. Wealth.”
“Sometimes I wish there was no such thing as wealth,” Joe grumbled. “It causes nothing but grief!”
Frank finished breakfast and sat back in his chair. He felt a little sleepy from the midnight excursion to the chateau. It had been worth it, though. He and Joe now had answers to a few of their questions. With hard work and a little luck, this day might bring even more answers.
Sophie stood up and tapped her bowl. “A load of pipe arrives this morning,” she announced. “It will have to be unloaded, moved onto the lift, and stacked at the upper end. Very strenuous work. Any volunteers?”
Hands shot up around the table. Frank’s and Joe’s were among them.
Sophie gave a satisfied nod. “Very good! Ah—Welly, Libby, Luis, Manu, Joe, and Frank. Welly, will you organize the job?”
“Sure,” Welly said. “We’ll handle it.”
“Next,” Sophie continued. “The talent show tomorrow night, for the children from the colonie. First rehearsal at eleven-thirty, in the square. Those involved will leave work early.”
Several people cheered. Sophie smiled, then added, “And after lunch, we have the next round in the grand competition at pétanque.”
“Why not just give the prize to Fréhel and be done with it,” Gert muttered under his breath.
Marie-Laure heard him. “There is more than one Fréhel here,” she retorted. “We both play pétanque. And we both have been taught to be good sports, whether we win or lose. Too bad there are some who never learned that lesson!”
Gert’s face reddened. He looked on the point of making an angry response. Luis, sitting next to him, put a hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy,” he advised. “Nothing to get upset over.”
Gert pressed his lips together and let out his breath loudly. He made a show of standing up and stomping out of the dining room. A moment later the outer door was slammed.
Frank glanced around the table. The other teens looked embarrassed by Gert’s display of temper. None of them seemed very sympathetic to the German boy. Was that why he was so constantly on edge? Because he knew he was not well liked? But it was mostly his attitude that kept him from being liked.
After breakfast Frank, Joe, and the four others on the pipe detail hiked down the hill to the parking area. The truck from the plumbing supply house had not yet arrived.
“How is this?” Welly said. “All of us take the pipe off the truck. Then we split up. Three down here, to put it on the lift. Three up above, to take it off the lift and stack it.”
“Sounds good,” Frank said. The others nodded.
Manu went over to a motorcycle parked near the foot of the path. “Would anyone like a ride while we wait?” he asked.
“Is that yours?” Joe asked. “Cool!”
“It is old but very fast,” Manu replied. “I rebuilt the engine myself.” A helmet dangled from the handlebar. He reached inside and produced a key ring.
“You don’t leave the ignition key there all the time, do you?” Libby asked. “Aren’t you afraid someone will steal the bike?”
Manu gave her a puzzled look. “I would not do it in a city like Brussels or Antwerp,” he replied. “But here we are all friends. We do not steal each other’s property. If someone needs to borrow my moto, I give them permission in advance.”
“May I take a spin?” Frank asked.
Manu handed him the helmet. Frank put it on and mounted up. The kick starter was stiff. He had to stand on it twice. Then the engine caught. It rumbled with a note of barely held-in power. He gave the throttle a careful nudge and let in the clutch. The motorcycle jumped forward like a scalded cat.
It took Frank a moment to find his balance. He aimed the bike along the edge of the parking lot and gave it more gas. As he raced in a big circle, he felt the wind tug his lips into a devilish grin.
“Wa-hooo!” he shouted as he sped past the others. They smiled and waved. Frank started into his second lap. Then he noticed a truck struggling up the track from the valley. That must be the load of water pipe. He slowed his pace, rode back to the starting point, and parked the motorcycle.
“Thanks. That was great,” Frank told Manu. He hung the helmet on the handlebar and tucked the key inside.
The truck driver parked near the bottom of the lift. Joe and Welly jumped onto the back and started passing the sections of pipe down. Each one was about six inches wide and five feet long.
The pipe was too heavy for one person to carry. Frank paired off with Libby. Joe and Welly handed them a section. While they carried it to the lift, Luis and Manu lined up to take the next section.
It was hard work, but it went fast. Soon half a dozen sections were loaded on the platform of the lift. The others were neatly stacked next to it.
“Luis? Joe?” Welly said. “We will go up the hill to unload. Libby, Manu, and Frank will stay here to load what is left.”
Frank was disappointed not to be with Welly. He had hoped to use the casual setting to question him about his tape machine. Who knew he had one? Who had access to it? When had Welly used it last? And could you record on it? If not, where had the prankster taped those moans and cries?
Joe and the others started up the path. Libby flipped the switch to start the lift on its way up. It creaked and groaned under the heavy load. By the time it reached the top, the three guys were there, ready for it. Just minutes later they sent the empty platform down again.
Frank and his coworkers had just loaded the last of the pipe and were watching it make its way up the hill when they heard a noise.
“Listen!” Libby said. “That’s the bell. But it’s not lunchtime. Something must have happened!”
The three hurried up the path to the village. A crowd had gathered in front of the community center. Kevin was standing next to the door. He had a smile on his face and an old wooden box under his arm.
Frank spotted Joe and gave him a questioning look. Joe shrugged and shook his head.
“Is everybody here?” Kevin asked. He scanned the crowd. “I want you all to be the first to know. This morning a dream of mine came true. I just found this inside my cottage. Look!”
He pried up the lid of the wooden box. Inside were hundreds of small clear stones that gleamed in the sunlight.
“Diamonds!” Kevin proclaimed. “A fortune in diamonds!”
10
Buried Treasure
Everyone stared openmo
uthed at the box of diamonds Kevin held. Then, as if on cue, they all started to talk at once. In the babble, Joe heard over and over the words, “The Fréhel treasure!”
“So the story about the treasure was true!” Libby said loudly. “Then what about the ghost? Is that true, too?”
“Hold on!” Kevin shouted. “I never said this is the Fréhel treasure.”
Sophie pushed to the front of the crowd. “I do not understand, Kevin,” she said. “Where did this come from? How did you find it?”
Everyone grew quiet. They all wanted to hear Kevin’s answer.
“Well,” he began, “as some of you know, my mother’s ancestors were from Fréhel. I discovered TVI when I came by to explore the village. I went to work for the organization. Then I bought my family’s old cottage and started restoring it.”
Kevin paused and stared down at the treasure box. Then he said, “One reason was that I wanted to explore my roots. But I had another reason, too. It was a story my mother used to tell me when I was little. A legend about a lost family treasure. It seems one of my ancestors was a servant to the Sieur de Fréhel. He went with him on his adventures around the world. He, too, returned with a fortune.”
“I never heard of this,” Jean-Claude said.
“No?” Kevin replied. “Well, I guess lords don’t pass along stories about their servants. Not the way servants pass along stories about their lords.”
“Please go on,” Sophie said. “This is fascinating.”
“There’s not much more to say,” Kevin said. “My ancestor was one of the people killed defending the chateau from the gang of bandits. He died without telling anyone where he had hidden his treasure. But even when I was a kid, I just knew it was somewhere inside his house. I was sure he would want it nearby, where he could keep an eye on it. So ever since I bought the cottage, I’ve been hunting for his hiding place. And this morning, I found it!”
“That’s amazing!” Sophie said. “How? Where?”
“Er—the thing is,” Kevin said, “I know this guy in Avignon who’s a television producer. The last time I saw him, I told him about my treasure hunt. He got very excited. He said it would make a terrific TV show, especially if I found something. But he warned me not to give out any of the details in advance. He’ll probably be furious at me for telling you as much as I did.”
“We understand,” Sophie said.
“What’ll you do now?” Marina asked.
Kevin grinned. “Take this box and put it in the bank,” he replied. “After that? I’ll go on working for TVI and restoring my cottage. And maybe in my spare time, I’ll try writing a script for the TV show. Oh—and I plan to contribute a percentage of the treasure to TVI. I figure I owe it.”
Everybody clapped and cheered. Kevin waved, tucked the box under his arm, and walked away.
“This has been such a wonderful surprise,” Sophie said. “It is hard to think of anything else. But please do not forget we must rehearse for the talent show.”
The crowd thinned out. Frank and Joe joined Marie-Laure and Jean-Claude. The twins looked dazed.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Frank observed.
“Very,” Jean-Claude said. “When Kevin showed the box of gems, I thought we were looking at the Fréhel treasure. I couldn’t understand. The accounts speak of priceless gems in rich settings. That must mean stones that were cut and polished, no?”
“It sounds that way,” Frank answered. “But then it turned out this isn’t your ancestor’s treasure after all.”
“No,” Marie-Laure said. She wore a puzzled frown. “Still, I do not understand. Why have we never heard of this other lost treasure? Would that not have made the legend twice as fabulous?”
“I guess Kevin’s mom’s family kept it secret,” Joe suggested. “Maybe they didn’t want to set off lots of treasure hunters.”
“That must be the answer,” Jean-Claude said. He sighed. “I am starting to wish our family had done the same. Excuse me. I am going for a little ride to calm myself.”
Jean-Claude walked down the hill.
Sophie bustled over. “He will be back soon, won’t he?” she asked, looking after Jean-Claude. “The rehearsal is starting. Marie-Laure, I am placing you at the end of the show. Once you have the children up dancing, they will not want to sit down again. And our karate kids from America will go first.”
Frank looked at Joe. He rolled his eyes. What if Sophie introduced them that way the night of the show?
They walked across to the square. Libby was singing a plaintive song about a lady who ran away with a gypsy. She strummed the last chord and smiled.
Welly clapped loudly. “You should lead us in singing one evening,” he said. “Why should visitors have all the fun?”
Libby’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, I’m just a beginner, really,” she protested. She put her guitar back in its case.
Luis arrived. He had a knapsack over his shoulder and a bright red ball stuck to the end of his nose. He unzipped the knapsack and took out three wooden juggling clubs, a cardboard box, and what looked like a metal propane canister. He put the box and canister aside and picked up the clubs. As he started tossing them rhythmically in the air, people drifted over to watch. Soon there was a solid circle around him.
Now and then Luis reached under his leg or behind his back to catch one of the clubs. The crowd clapped each time. Frank joined in. He thought the juggling was pretty good, but not that unusual.
Then Luis seemed to lose his touch. One club went too high and too far. He ran to catch it. Another came down too far in the other direction. He caught it just before it hit the ground. As he tossed it up again, the third one was coming down somewhere else. Soon he was running madly around the square, trying to catch and throw each club in turn.
The crowd grew silent. Frank crossed his fingers. He did not want to see Luis’s humiliation.
Suddenly Luis stopped in the center of the square. He closed his eyes and stretched out his arms in a gesture of despair. One … two … three … the clubs smacked down into his open hands. He tucked them under his arm, opened his eyes, and bowed. When he straightened up, his face was lit by a wide grin.
The spectators cheered wildly. Luis took another bow. When the applause died down, he said, “Thank you, friends. I will not show you my balloon creatures now. I must save my supply of balloons and helium for tomorrow night.”
Siri went next. She began to recite a folktale about the elephant and the crocodile. Luis came over and stood next to Frank and Joe.
“That was really terrific,” Joe said. “At the end, you had me like totally on edge!”
“That is the idea,” Luis said. “The more nervous you become, the more relieved you are when it turns out okay.”
“So you use helium in your balloon animals?” Frank asked. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes,” Luis agreed. “And I do not use much. Just enough to make them seem to weigh nothing. It would not be good if I made some child a dachshund and it floated away!”
Jean-Claude returned just as Siri finished. He whistled two songs and imitated some birdcalls. The birds must have been French. Frank didn’t recognize their names. He couldn’t tell if Jean-Claude’s imitations were realistic or not, but they did sound pretty much like birds.
“Marie-Laure?” Sophie called. “We are not going in order, but if you—”
“I am sorry,” Marie-Laure replied. “I have not had time to make a tape of the music. I promise to get it done before the show.”
That meant it was time for Frank and Joe. They walked through a demonstration of tae kwon do. “Tomorrow night we’ll do the movements full out,” Frank explained, when they finished. “This was just to give you the flavor.”
The bell rang for lunch. Frank and Joe found themselves at one end of the table with Welly, Luis, and Libby. Gert came in and sat down near them. The conversation turned to people’s plans after high school.
“We have good universities in South A
frica,” Welly said. “Even so, I would like to go to Oxford. I have read so much about it. Luis, what of you? Will you stay in Argentina?”
“I don’t know,” Luis replied. “I just learned that there is a national academy for clowning and circus arts near Paris. I want to visit it before I go home.”
“All this education is a waste of time,” Gert said. “You will learn much more if you go into the real world and get a real job. If I had wasted my time at the university …”
“I could not disagree more,” Libby said. “My older sister went into advertising after she left school. She did very well, too. But last year, she gave up her position to read for a university degree full-time. She says she only regrets she didn’t do it straightaway.”
“Joe? Frank?” Welly said. “What about you?”
“Just about all the kids we know plan to go to college,” Frank said. “So do we. But first, we have to get through high school. Right now it seems like it’ll never end!”
The others laughed.
By the time the cheese course came, the bread basket was empty. Frank looked along the table. The others were empty, too. No bread anywhere.
“I’ll get more,” Jean-Claude offered. He gathered three of the empty baskets and went down the stairs to the kitchen. A minute later, he returned. The baskets were still empty.
“We face a crise,” he announced. “The truck of the baker did not arrive today. We have no bread for dinner.”
“No big deal,” Joe said. “For one meal, we can go without.”
“Impossible!” Marie-Laure said. “Barbarous! How can one eat without a piece of bread to hold in the hand!”
“There is a solution,” Jean-Claude said. “After lunch, I will ride to the boulangerie in St. Sernin. I will bring back a dozen baguettes. And by breakfast tomorrow, the truck of the baker will no doubt be fixed.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Gert said. “Kevin can go in the van after he gets back.”
The Castle Conundrum (Hardy Boys) Page 7