The House of Puzzles

by Richard Newsome

  ‘Hey, I’ve got an idea,’ Ruby said, drilling a glare in her brother’s direction. ‘Let’s set up the tent and get nice and cosy warm inside.’

  Sam stared at the ground. ‘I said I was sorry,’ he mumbled.

  ‘And yet that brings us precisely no closer to finding shelter for the night,’ Ruby said.

  ‘And neither does all your complaining,’ Felicity snapped. ‘How about you give it a rest?’ Ruby’s lips froze shut. ‘I’m cold, I’m tired and I’m hungry,’ Felicity said. ‘We’ve got about ten minutes of light left and I’ve had it with both you Valentines.’ She turned to Gerald. ‘I can’t imagine what you see in her.’

  The wind whipped down from the hilltop, flapping the hood on Gerald’s jacket about his ears. He couldn’t see the expression on Ruby’s face, but he had the feeling it was not all warmth and sunshine.

  ‘Let’s get down into the valley,’ Gerald said. ‘Maybe we can find some shelter there.’

  There was no debate. There was no other choice.

  This time Gerald took the lead. He agreed with Felicity. Sam and Ruby could tear each other apart—all he wanted was to get out of the cold.

  As they descended into the valley the snowfall intensified. Gerald stared into the dying day.

  His heart sank.

  Beyond a line of stumpy trees, for as far as he could see, there was heather and bracken beaten down by the Scottish winter into a brown carpet that was fast disappearing under a smothering of white.

  His shoulders dropped. He turned back to Ruby and Felicity.

  ‘Anything?’ Ruby asked.

  Gerald shook his head. ‘We could try to build something under those trees but they’re so stunted. They don’t offer much cover.’ A pit opened up in his stomach. People died of exposure on nights like this.

  ‘Or we could try that house down there,’ Sam said as he joined them.

  ‘What house?’ Gerald said.

  ‘The one down there,’ Sam said, pointing into the gloom.

  Gerald, Ruby and Felicity strained their eyes into the near darkness as the blizzard swirled around them.

  ‘I can’t see a thing,’ Ruby said. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course,’ Sam said. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

  ‘Apart from my terminal lack of a tent?’

  Gerald grabbed Sam by the arm before another domestic dust-up broke out. ‘Take us there, will you? You and Ruby can yell at each other later.’

  Sam shrugged agreement and led the way down a snow-covered slope. Gerald could barely see. He felt a hand fall on his shoulder and realised Ruby had grabbed hold so she wouldn’t get lost in the murk. He hoped Felicity was doing the same to Ruby. He reached out and took Sam’s shoulder and, like a line of baby elephants walking trunks to tails, they cut a path through the bleak night.

  Before long, Sam stopped. Gerald walked right into the back of him. Ruby and Felicity stumbled into Gerald. It was a four-body pileup.

  ‘Why did you stop?’ Gerald asked, pulling his face free from where it had buried itself in Sam’s pack.

  ‘Because we’re here,’ Sam said. ‘Why else would we stop?’

  Gerald looked up and could just make out the outline of a two-storey stone building against the night sky.

  ‘How did you even see this place?’ Felicity said. ‘You’re amazing.’ An inch of snow had settled on her head and shoulders.

  ‘You can erect a statue to him after we get inside,’ Ruby said through chattering teeth.

  ‘The front door must be round here,’ Sam said. He led the way up three steps to the shelter of a covered porch. Gerald dumped his pack onto the stone paving. ‘We could always climb into our sleeping bags right here,’ he said. ‘At least it’s out of the snow and wind.’

  Ruby tossed her pack next to Gerald’s. ‘I have marshmallows,’ she said. ‘And I won’t be happy until I’m toasting one over an open fire. Let’s get inside.’

  The last of the day’s light disappeared, sinking them into abject darkness.

  ‘I can’t see a thing,’ Gerald said. ‘It’s like swimming in ink. Ow!’

  ‘What is it?’ Ruby’s voice came through the dark.

  ‘I banged my shin on something.’ Gerald held his glove to his nose and could barely make out his fingers. ‘This is ridiculous.’ He scrabbled about and his hands found a large iron ring. ‘I think I’ve found the door!’ he called out. He tugged on the handle. ‘Locked.’ Gerald muttered an oath under his breath.

  ‘There must be a window we could try,’ Felicity said.

  ‘Ow!’ Gerald howled again.

  ‘Now what?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘Shin,’ Gerald said. ‘Something.’ He held his hands out in front and inched along. ‘Glass! I think I’ve found a window.’

  ‘Told you,’ said Felicity.

  ‘It’s locked,’ Gerald said. ‘Should we break it?’

  ‘Of course!’ Ruby said. ‘We could freeze to death out here.’

  ‘What can I break it with?’ Gerald asked.

  There was the sound of someone rustling around in their pack. Then Sam said, ‘Here, use this.’ Gerald waved his hand around until he felt a heavy cylinder fall into his palm, like a relay baton.

  ‘Thanks,’ Gerald said. ‘This feels solid enough to do some damage.’ He gripped the tube like a hammer and tapped it against the glass to get his bearings. ‘What is it?’

  Sam’s voice came from the blackness. ‘My torch.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘Your torch?’ Ruby said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Sam said.

  ‘You idiot.’

  Gerald fumbled for a moment. Then a beam of light pierced the night, enough for everyone to see Sam looking sheepishly back at them. ‘Whoops,’ he said.

  Gerald shook his head and turned back to the window. A sharp tap with the metal torch smashed a hole large enough for him to reach in and unlock the sash. A minute later all four of them were inside.

  Felicity and Sam ventured down a long hall while Gerald and Ruby gathered the backpacks in the spacious entryway.

  ‘Nice job,’ Ruby said.

  Gerald nodded a thanks, and then he saw it: a snowflake on the tip of Ruby’s nose.

  The moment had arrived.

  Gerald reached out his gloved hand and brushed the snowflake clear.

  ‘Oh,’ said Ruby in surprise. Her eyes smiled at him. A sudden warmth glowed in Gerald’s chest.

  Limerick time.

  He cleared his throat.

  ‘There once was a girl named Ruby…’

  A quizzical expression formed on Ruby’s face. Before Gerald could say anything more, Sam rushed up to them. ‘Come and see what we’ve found!’ He grabbed Ruby by the hand and dragged her. ‘It might even stop you whinging. And hating me.’ Gerald watched as the Valentine twins scampered down the hallway. He sighed and trudged after them.

  ‘This must be a hunting lodge, closed for the winter,�
� Sam said as he led the way down the wood-panelled corridor. ‘Ruby, I think you’re going to like this.’

  They burst through a doorway into a roomy lounge and came to an abrupt stop. A huge smile spread across Ruby’s face. ‘Oh, this is perfect,’ she said.

  A massive stone fireplace in the far wall was set with kindling and chopped wood. The panelled walls were hung with mounted stag heads and stuffed trout. A brown leather chesterfield, complete with tartan rugs, sat in front of the hearth like a tired uncle after too much Christmas lunch.

  Ruby looked at Sam. ‘You are almost forgiven,’ she said. ‘Almost.’

  Within minutes, a fire crackled in the grate and Ruby and Felicity sat, legs outstretched on the hearthrug, poking marshmallows onto long toasting forks. Their boots were kicked to the corners and their wriggling toes defrosted in the glow of the flames. Outside, the wind howled like a lovesick wolf.

  ‘I wouldn’t fancy camping in a tent on a night like this,’ Sam said from a plush armchair. His face was suffused with utter contentment. ‘Lucky I found this place, isn’t it?’ He paused for a moment as the girls turned the marshmallows on their forks. ‘Imagine all those sorry sods between here and the checkpoint, freezing in their tents. Who’d want to be in a tent tonight, eh?’

  There was a long silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

  ‘Tents—’ Sam continued.

  ‘All right!’ Ruby said. ‘You’ve made your point. Well done. Congratulations. Leaving that tent behind was an act of genius. What do you want? A medal?’

  Sam leaned back in his chair, his hands clamped around the back of his head, exuding smugness.

  Felicity popped a toasted marshmallow into her mouth. ‘This is so good,’ she said. ‘Do you want one, Gerald?’

  Gerald knelt at a coffee table where he had set up their camp stove. A pot of baked beans was just beginning to bubble. ‘Yes please,’ he said, stirring the brownish goop with a wooden spoon. ‘There might be no electricity but we’ve got candles and beans. What more could you want?’

  Ruby tossed a toasted marshmallow to Sam and prodded another onto her fork. ‘Do you know what this reminds me of?’ she said. ‘That night in the caretaker’s cottage at Mt Archer in California. All of us bunking down in front of a fire while a blizzard raged outside.’

  Gerald scooped a spoonful of beans onto a plate. ‘At least this time we’re not on the run from a bunch of gun-toting kidnappers,’ he said.

  Ruby laughed. ‘That was Christmas Eve,’ she said. ‘That was a fun night.’

  ‘It was,’ Felicity said, ‘Right up to the moment when the bandits attacked.’

  Gerald felt the warmth spread through his chest again. That was also the night that he and Ruby had somehow ended up in each other’s arms when the lights went out. He took a plate of beans across to Ruby and sat beside her.

  ‘Thanks,’ Ruby said, smiling at him.

  Gerald cleared his throat.

  The time was right.

  ‘There once was a girl named Ruby—’ he began.

  Ruby looked mildly concerned. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

  Then the door to the lounge room exploded open, the force almost knocking it from its hinges. Ruby dropped her plate and cried out.

  Standing in the doorway was a tall, silver-haired man with a gun in his hand.

  Gerald recognised him in an instant.

  ‘Good evening to you all,’ said Sir Mason Green.

  Chapter 7

  The fire smouldered in the grate, sending fingers of smoke twisting up the chimney to the frigid night outside.

  There was no such easy escape for Gerald, Sam, Ruby and Felicity. The four of them stood in a tight huddle on the hearthrug.

  Sir Mason Green held the pistol in a steady hand. He was a desperate man on the run from the law, wanted on two continents for murder, forced into a life of skulking in shadows. Then why, Gerald wondered, did Mason Green look like he had spent the past month lazing by a tropical lagoon? He was positively aglow.

  ‘You—uh—look well,’ Gerald said, not sure of the etiquette for coming face-to-face with someone who had tried to kill you on half a dozen occasions.

  Mason Green stepped into the room and leaned with theatrical flourish on his walking cane. ‘Do you know something, Gerald? I feel well. I’ve shed a few pounds, I go swimming every day, and I take an evening walk to soak up the last of the sunshine. I can’t remember the last time I felt so alive. And I have you to thank for it, my boy.’

  Gerald did not try to hide his displeasure at hearing this news. ‘Me?’ he said. ‘What did I do?’

  Green waved towards the couch. Gerald, Ruby, Felicity and Sam looked at each other uncertainly, then squeezed onto the chesterfield.

  Green smiled down at them, creasing his suntanned face. ‘You freed me, Gerald,’ he said. ‘Freed me from the daily grind of the city, of pursuing riches as a pastime. For that, I thank you.’

  Ruby glared at Green through narrowed eyes. ‘Aren’t you meant to be hiding from the police?’ she said.

  Sir Mason settled in an armchair opposite them. ‘That is what I find so invigorating, Miss Valentine. There is nothing better to sharpen your wits than keeping a step ahead of Constable Plod. It’s quite liberating, in every sense of the word.’ Green placed his gun on a table by his elbow and clasped his fingers over the handle of his walking cane. ‘And, I believe, I owe you an apology.’

  Ruby shifted in her seat and eyed the man cautiously. ‘What for?’ she asked.

  ‘The rather unfortunate behaviour of my former associate, Tycho Brahe. I do hope you are all right. Such a frightful experience.’

  Ruby moved her gaze to the fire and said nothing.

  Gerald stared at Green. The flames painted the man’s silver hair with a strawberry tinge. ‘You haven’t come all this way to say sorry to Ruby,’ he said.

  ‘You are surprised to see me, then?’ Green said. ‘That is tremendous news. That means Inspector Parrott and his colleagues from the Met are highly unlikely to come sniffing around here. I have found that the best place to hide is where people least expect to find you.’

  ‘But your tan,’ Ruby said. ‘Taking a daily swim—that doesn’t sound like a winter in Scotland.’ Then, after a second’s thought, ‘It doesn’t even sound like a summer in Scotland.’

  Green’s mouth curled into a smirk. ‘Believe me, Miss Valentine, I am merely in Scotland for a visit.’

  Gerald’s eyes flicked to the gun by Green’s side. ‘What do you want?’ he asked. ‘And where is Professor McElderry?’

  ‘You Australians,’ Green said with a sweep of his hand. ‘Always to the point. I have certainly not risked coming all the way here simply for a pleasant reunion with friends.’

  ‘We’re not friends,’ Gerald said flatly.

  ‘And this really isn’t pleasant,’ Ruby added.

  Green stood up and crossed to the woodpile by the fireplace. He rolled a fresh log into the flames. Sparks leapt up the chimney. ‘You’ll begin to make me feel unwelcome,’ he said. ‘And we have so much to talk about.’ He returned to his chair and eased
himself into the cushions. ‘Such as how you managed to break into my apartment in San Francisco and destroy an historic relic.’

  Gerald, Ruby, Felicity and Sam sucked in a collective breath.

  ‘I may be on the run from the law, but I’m not completely clueless,’ Green continued. All the warmth leeched from his eyes. ‘You lied your way into my apartment and smashed a bottle. I understand that Miss Upham was the one responsible.’ He fixed Felicity with a rapier stare.

  Felicity gasped.

  ‘How did I know your name and the circumstances behind your act of vandalism?’ Green did not pause for a response. ‘I’ll leave you to ponder that in the spare moments you have while completing a task for me—a task that you are in no position to refuse.’ He laid a casual hand across the pistol at his side, stroking it as if it was a spoiled cat.

  Gerald clenched his teeth and forced out the question, ‘What do you want?’

  Green smiled. ‘There was a message hidden inside that bottle. I believe you have it.’

  Gerald shifted in his seat. ‘Is that all you want? It’s in my sketchbook back at the outdoor centre. Take it. It’s no use to me.’

  Green locked his eyes on Gerald’s. ‘But you do have a use for it, Gerald. The message is written in code, if you recall. A message from Jeremy Davey.’

  Gerald’s mind flashed back to the message that had been hidden inside the old bottle. It was scratched in faded ink on the back of a page torn from the Voynich manuscript. ‘It was just a bunch of random letters,’ he said.

  Green’s eyes grew dark. ‘Then I suggest you figure out how to render them less random,’ he said. ‘Solve that code and tell me what the message is.’

  Gerald lifted his chin in defiance. But before he could say anything, Green continued. ‘Don’t start with the tired What if we refuse? gambit. If you refuse then someone dies. It’s as simple as that.’