“Is everything being auctioned off?” Nick asked the boy.
Shaking his head, the boy said, “No, just what’s listed on the sheet I gave you.” Dressed neatly in a white short-sleeved shirt and jeans, the boy continued, “My father said everything not on the auction list is tagged with the price written on it.” Nodding, Nick hoped fervently that the piece the book led them to was one with a listed price and not one to be auctioned off!
As Nick opened The Book of Lost Treasures and studied the map within, it reminded him vaguely of the board game Clue. A maze of rooms, representing the layout of the Parmelov home, was detailed on the map. He half expected the names of Colonel Mustard or Mrs. Peacock to suddenly appear as they followed the map’s directions! However, other than the glowing line that led to a room on the southeast side of the Parmelov estate and the usual meticulous details, no names appeared.
Motioning to the others, Nick quickly went to the room indicated by the book’s map. They passed individuals and small groups, who were critically eyeing furniture, paintings, table knickknacks, and other items before furiously scribbling notes and appraisal values in the notebooks they carried. When they finally reached the room, it was deserted, except for Nick and his fellow club members. Apparently, it had been a study of some kind, which was empty now, except for a small leather couch, a bookshelf lining one wall and crammed with books, a roll-top desk that had definitely seen better days, and a small circular table with a large lamp set on top of it.
The directions in The Book of Lost Treasures led straight to the lamp, and as Nick approached it, he saw that it was painted a garish, metallic gold color. Tall and vase-shaped, the paint gave the lamp a cheesy quality that only increased as Nick stooped over to scrutinize it more closely.
The lampshade, a dingy white color, was actually patched in two different places, and a cheap gold braid had been glued to the outside of the bottom part of the lampshade, as if in an attempt to give it a higher quality it obviously didn’t possess. Spotting a handwritten price tag dangling from lamp, Nick gave a huge sigh of relief.
“This is it,” he told the others.
“How much?” Mark asked.
Picking up the price tag, Nick saw $50.00 written on it.
“Fifty dollars!” Mark blurted in disbelief when Nick told him the price. “For that? They ought to pay us to take it off their hands! Are you sure this is the antique?”
When Nick nodded, even Abby and Patti shook their heads as they looked at what had to be the ugliest lamp any of them had ever seen in their lives.
When Nick picked up the lamp to carry it, no flash of light came from The Book of Lost Treasures.
“Wait!” he said, putting the lamp hastily back on the table. Opening the book, he saw the map was still there. The words “Treasure Found” were nowhere to be seen.
“Something’s wrong! The map is still in the book!” His face a mask of concern, Nick showed the others the book.
“What happened?” Mark asked Nick. “Why hasn’t the book indicated we found the lost treasure like it always does?”
“I … I don’t know,” Nick confessed. “But this is the piece the map led us to, it has to be! Look!” Picking up the lamp with one hand, Nick held The Book of Lost Treasures open with the other. Walking slowly out of the room, the red dot on the map moved, as did the lost treasure indicated by the map. Both were located so closely together, as to be virtually one and the same.
“See! It moves along with me on the map! This has to be it!”
“Let’s pay for it and figure it out later,” Mark suggested.
No one objected. A short time later, they paid a handsome, middle-aged woman, presumably the mother of the boy at the door, for the lamp and left. This time, they received a receipt without asking, as the woman automatically handed them one. Placing the lamp on the hard surface of the circular drive, Nick studied it, a confused expression on his face.
“I don’t understand!” Nick’s face was twisted in frustration. “This has to be the antique! It has to be!” The others huddled around Nick, no one saying a word.
“What are we going to do now?” Steve finally asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe … wait!” Nick said, his voice rising in excitement.
“This has to be the piece! Are we all in agreement on that?” Heads nodded all around.
“Good! I want to try something! Steve, you got a hammer or something in your car?”
“Yeah, I have one in my tool box in the trunk. Why?” he asked curiously.
“Just get it, and I’ll explain later!” Steve trotted over to the GTO and popped the trunk. After rummaging around for a few moments, he produced a hammer and jogged back to Nick, handing it to him.
“What are you going to do?” Mark eyed the hammer in Nick’s hand uneasily.
“Look how large the lamp is. Also, when I picked it up, it felt heavier to me than what it should. I think maybe the lost treasure is inside the lamp!”
“You mean you’re going to break the lamp open with that hammer? Nick, are you sure?” Mark asked dubiously.
“Pretty sure!” Nick said, grinning. “Besides, what have we got to lose?”
“How about a valuable antique?” Kenneth blurted. “You could be destroying something worth thousands of dollars!”
What followed was an animated argument that raged back and forth until Nick finally called for an impromptu vote. With Nick abstaining, the final tally was 3–2 in favor of breaking the lamp open. Mark, Abby, and Patti voted for, while Kenneth and Steve voted against it.
“The ayes have it!” Nick declared.
Taking a deep breath, he eyed the lamp and, gripping the handle of the hammer, chose the bulging swell of the upper part of the lamp and swung. The sharp crack of ceramic breaking filled the air, and pieces of the lamp fell to the asphalt driveway. Dry sawdust cascaded from the inside of the lamp, and as they watched, Nick nimbly caught an object that fell out along with the sawdust.
Openmouthed, Nick stared at an enamel jewelry box. Gilded in silver, he had no time for other observations as bright light suddenly flashed from The Book of Lost Treasures.
Glancing in the book, Nick saw the familiar words “Treasure Found” glowing brilliantly. They had found the hidden treasure!
Standing and showing it to the others, Nick saw that a mounted figure, like that of a knight, was painted delicately on the hinged cover. Astride a massive war mount, the knight seemed to be studying a sign at a crossroads of sorts. Carefully flipping the lid open, they saw the jewelry box was lined with a rich purple satin.
“It’s beautiful!” Abby breathed.
“I agree,” Nick quipped, feeling immensely proud of himself for figuring out the secret of where the lost treasure had been hidden.
“Don’t let your head get too big, or you won’t be able to fit it inside the car!” Abby said, wrinkling her nose at Nick.
Nick had to struggle to keep a firm hold on the jewelry box as Mark, Steve, and Kenneth took turns congratulating him with hearty backslaps. Patti, who had been strangely quiet, was eyeing the box intently. Suddenly, she turned and ran back to the SUV and selected one of the reference books and ran back to the others. Flipping rapidly through the pages, she finally stopped, her face draining of color. Fighting to control her breathing, she placed her hand over her heart and leaned against Mark for support.
“Patti, what’s wrong?” he asked, his face knotted in sudden worry.
“I’ve … I’ve seen a picture of that jewelry box before!” Waving her hand rapidly back and forth in front of her face as if she was experiencing hot flashes, Patti continued.
“It’s a Fabergé!” she blurted. “It’s a Fabergé silver-gilt and cloisonné enamel box! Nick, turn it over!” she demanded.
As Nick complied, she pointed with a shaking finger at some- thing etched on the base of the enamel box, “Look! There are the Fabergé and Imperial Warrant marks! According to the reference book, this jewelry box was made between 190
8 and 1917 by the Russian imperial jeweler, Carl Fabergé!”
“You mean the guy who made jeweled Easter eggs for the Russian Tsars?” Mark asked with a puzzled expression.
“Forget about the history lesson!” Steve cried. “What’s it worth?”
Looking around at each of the club members in turn, Patti took a deep breath.
“It’s worth over one hundred thousand dollars!”
Chapter 22
The drive back to Mark and Patti’s was done in numbed silence. They had discovered almost $200,000 worth of antiques in less than three hours work! The Book of Lost Treasures had delivered in a way none of them, including Nick, could have believed in their most fervent imaginings. Where they went from here, what was next, was on all their minds as Mark pulled the SUV into the driveway and parked.
Entering the house, Patti went straight to her laptop and logged on to the Internet. The others, drained by the day’s events and the valuable discoveries they had uncovered, sat in the den talking quietly to one another while Patti surfed the Net. When finally she closed her laptop, she announced she had found an art and antiquities dealer in the Dallas suburb of Garland whose specialty was rare and unique antiques. She suggested they take the stoneware crock, carved wooden eagle, and Faberge jewelry box there and see what they would be offered for them. The others readily agreed, and a short time later, Steve and Kenneth left. Nick, restless and hungry, took Abby, and they went to Wendy’s for a late lunch.
After dropping Abby of at Mark and Patti’s and giving her an enthusiastic goodbye kiss, Nick walked to the Sprint, unable to keep a happy smile off his face. And why not? he thought to himself.
This had been the best day of his life!
July flowed into August, and the next several weeks went by as if in a blur. Much had been accomplished during that period of time. Nick had accompanied Patti to Garland, and when they had shown their pieces to the rare antique dealer, a pencil-thin woman in her late forties, she had offered them $150,000 on the spot! When they had hesitated, saying they had to think about it, she immediately upped the offer to $160,000. By the time they had called all the other club members on their cells to inform them of what they were being offered, the ante had been raised to $170,000!
They left the antique dealer’s shop with the check.
A bank account and line of credit had been established at one of the local banks in Pleasant Mountain for the Treasure Hunt Club. They deposited the money earned from their discoveries there. In addition, Patti’s law firm had agreed to handle all the club’s legal affairs and was now on retainer. The coin dealer in Texarkana had offered them $3,000 for the coins Mark had brought him, and every weekend brought newly discovered antiques garnered from the various estate sales and garage sales The Book of Lost Treasures led them to as they expanded to nearby counties. There had been no more eye-popping discoveries like the first weekend had brought them, although they had found an eighteenth century mahogany three-tier stand at an estate sale in a nearby community. Paying only $25 for it, it had fetched them $8,000 from the Garland dealer. All told, they had realized around $30,000 in profit in the subsequent weeks of scouring the nearby communities and counties for “lost” antiques.
By the end of August, it became apparent the well had run dry concerning the search for valuable antiques in the immediate area around Pleasant Mountain. By specifically targeting rural areas and small towns, The Book of Lost Treasures had made the search and discovery of the antiques relatively easy. The club members, however, were loath to try the same tactics in larger cities for fear they would be overwhelmed by the multiple sites that could be produced by the book.
As Nick had pointedly reminded everyone, the book’s rules made clear that no more requests could be made of it until all the lost treasures had been found and recovered! Therefore, Nick had called for a meeting on Tuesday night the last week of August, with the main item on the agenda concerning what to do next. Meeting again at Mark and Patti’s, they started promptly at seven o’clock that evening.
“I call this meeting of the Treasure Hunt Club to order!” Nick declared as he put his glass of iced tea down on the coffee table next to him. Arrayed around him in the spacious den were all the club members, who looked at him expectantly. The minutes of the previous meeting were quickly approved, and Nick asked Patti for a treasurer’s report. With over $200,000 in the bank, Patti had invested most of the money in short term CDs.
Interest accrued from the CDs had already earned several thousand dollars, and the club members applauded appreciably when informed of this. Although every club member was owed an equal share of the money, so far, everyone was content to leave it in the bank and let the money grow.
“Does anyone have any suggestions on the next request we make of the book?” Nick asked, after they had dispensed of all the old business.
Kenneth shot to his feet; his pudgy face a mask of animated excitement.
“The chair recognizes Kenneth!” Nick grinned at Kenneth’s exuberance.
“Baseball cards!” he blurted.
“What about baseball cards?” Nick asked when Kenneth was not immediately forthcoming with an explanation.
“That’s what we should try and find next … baseball cards!” Kenneth repeated, as if it all made perfect sense to him.
“Well … okay. Would you care to elaborate?”
Nodding vigorously, Kenneth launched into an explanation.
“Collecting baseball cards is a multi-million-dollar industry!” he gushed. “The older and rarer the cards, the more they’re worth. I bet The Book of Lost Treasures can lead us straight to where some of these cards have been hidden or lost!”
“How much money are these baseball cards worth?” Steve asked as he took a long pull on the bottle of Bud Light he held in his hand.
“It depends. Like I said, the older and more rare the card, the condition it’s in—it all factors in on the card’s worth. The range could vary from just a few dollars to over a million.”
“Million! Did you say million?” Steve spluttered, choking on his beer.
“Sure! A Honus Wagner card sold at auction just this past year for over two million dollars. In fact, it’s these rare Honus Wagner cards I think we should go after!”
Seeing uncomprehending looks all around him, Kenneth sighed and, sitting down, spread his hands before him.
“Look. What I’m talking about is what is called the Honus Wagner T206 baseball card. This card is part of a series of five hundred twenty-six cards released in 1909 by the American Tobacco Company with Honus Wagner on them. There are only fifty to sixty cards even known to still be in existence, therefore, making them very rare, very expensive cards to collect. If there are any of these cards left that still exist that aren’t already part of someone’s collection, the book can lead us to them. Since they are so rare, we shouldn’t have to worry about multiple sites or maps showing up in the book.”
“I like it!” Mark said, looking at Nick.
Thunderstruck, Nick immediately tried to wrap his mind around the concept of a million dollars!
If Kenneth was right and The Book of Lost Treasures could lead them to even one of these rare baseball cards, it would make the money they had realized from the discovery and sale of the antiques look like chump change!
“What’s your plan?” he asked eagerly.
Rubbing his hands together briskly, Kenneth said, “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and we will have to word our request carefully, but here’s what I came up with.”
Taking his Android, Kenneth scrolled to a document on it, opened it, and then read:
Reveal the location of any hidden or lost 1909 T206 series Honus Wagner baseball cards that are not already part of any collection and on property whose owners would sign a contract, thus giving the Treasure Hunt Club exclusive ownership of any lost or hidden cards in exchange for ten percent of the card’s value.
“Whew! That’s a mouthful!” Mark exclaimed.
&nbs
p; Shrugging helplessly, Kenneth said, “It is, but in order for us to follow the rules of the book and still get the desired result that we want, I had to word the request this way. However, I’m open to suggestions on how to improve the request.”
The Treasure Hunt Club Page 18