by Kane, Zoey
Well that made it so Claire just had to look down. Quite a ways below, the concrete floor was dusty, but an outline was indeed visible. It was in one of those cliché poses you see so often on mystery novels, where the victim’s outline was in a sprint position. She felt woozy a moment, and clung to the cold ladder tighter. “The housekeeper…”
“Huh?”
“Remember the snoopy housekeeper and the false floor? I bet half our blocks of gold that’s who it was.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right. We’ve found the spot of the fifth X, the one on the map that was marked on our bedroom! Be careful climbing—one step at a time.”
They continued up until Claire met a little hatch in the ceiling. With one hand, Claire had a death-grip on the ladder, and with her other hand, she pushed the little door. It moved up maybe half a foot before it was blocked by something. New strategy: Claire wound an arm through a rung for a more firm hold, and whacked the hatch with the heel of her available hand over and over. It seemed to be working, as dust and debris showered down on them; and one last cracking sound indicated it broke completely open.
They entered up to the top of the tower, and quickly realized the reason the hatch was blocked was because much of the roof was boarded over and re-slatted. A cloud of mist welcomed them, carrying with it a scent of blooming flowers.
Zo focused on what she saw down from the front yard mere minutes ago. Sure enough there was a Roman numeral—twelve, to be exact. Behind some slats, in the tower, which had been broken through by fierce winds, a clock’s face peeked back at her. “Okay, let’s pull the rest of this away from the clock. Or in the word of the scriptural riddle, the watch,” instructed Zo. She worked a board back and forth, until its rusted nails gave way to their soft, rotten holes.
“A watch tower?” Claire mused. “Clever. But are you sure Habakkuk was a reference to this?”
“Not totally. Let’s keep adding up the clues to see if they fit.”
“For one, we can’t forget ‘Follow the finger.’ But clocks and watches don’t have fingers.” Claire reached forward to move some debris out of her mother’s hair, which was now frizzing in the weather.
“Fingers are also called digits,” Zo reminded. “And clocks have digits.” Their eyes widened to that, and they dropped to their knees. Both grabbed a slat and worked them back and forth.
“Let’s not get our hopes up too much,” Claire breathed. “There’s still that finger that was tied to the map, taken from that hostage.”
After pulling away a couple more boards, the truly antique clock with a yellow face and black iron numerals was finally shown in all its beauty, affixed in its little tower. The hands had stopped on exactly twelve o’clock.
“What is the rest of the scripture?” Zo asked.
“I will watch to see what he will say unto me. I have no idea what double-meaning that could have.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with the face of this clock? You can’t see if you don’t have a face, right?”
“Okay, so the coincidences are lining up even more.”
“There definitely could be something to this. Dang! Think, Claire. Think!”
“We can bang on this like monkeys, and see what happens.”
“And I can ground you for a month.”
“For real?”
“It just felt good saying that.”
Claire wiped some hair behind an ear and looked back to the clock. “Okay, so we can gently feel around on its face, to see if anything is out of the ordinary.”
“Deal.”
There was no glass over it, so Claire could gently touch the numbers and hands and all. “Do we have any other clues?” she asked.
“We’ve been through all five X’s on our map, right? This place here is probably the sixth X. So there is one more X spot somewhere; and, yet, this seems to be the place where we win.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “I’ve got it! What if the X’s symbolized not only locations on the map but hexes? Yes, the X’s are booby-traps! The X in our room specifically indicated the false floor, which the housekeeper fell down to her death! If there are two more X’s left, then that means two more hexes await us—and, they could both be awaiting us right here.”
“Two more traps? But we’re here, and nothing seems dangerous,” Zo reasoned.
Claire tilted her head. “True, but still…” She gently touched the point of the clock’s minute hand, and moved it forward hour by hour. Zo watched carefully as the minutes counted closer to one o’clock: fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty!
“THWIP!” The sound of something shooting out from the clock, followed by a loud “ME-OW!” from the front yard, made their hearts leap. Claire stood back up and peered at the front lawn, where she saw a black cat cautiously move toward a stick poking up out of the lawn.
“Something bit me!” Zo reached up to her nose and brought a hand back with blood.
Claire turned her attention back to her mom. “Let me see,” she said, tipping back her mom’s head for a better view. “It’s just a scratch under your nose. You are okay.”
“What do you think it was? A bat?!”
“No…, an arrow.” She glanced back down to the yard, where the stray was now thwacking the thing with a paw.
“So there is another hex! Do you think this is like a combination lock, honey?”
Claire kneeled again. “Are you anticipating another shot at your nose?”
“Maybe.” She scooted away. “You’re too close to it—move aside.”
Claire right away obeyed, looking at the clock in concern. “The first shall be last and the last shall be first.”
Zo’s eyebrows raised and she slowly turned to lock eyes with her daughter. “That’s right. I forgot about that clue. The first shall be last and the last shall be first. Number one was first, evidently.”
“Right. This could be like a combo lock. If one was the first, then one is the last. We just need to figure out what the middle number would be, and that should be easy enough.”
“Just twelve choices.” Zo nodded.
“Just twelve choices,” Claire repeated. From a distance, her long arm reaching, Claire moved the hand counter-clockwise this time, just as combination locks work. She cautiously stopped on the number two. Nothing happened. “It’s not two.” She started all over again. When she tried three o’clock, again nothing happened. Claire took a deep breath before proceeding.
“Be careful, honey.”
Claire started over again, stopping at one o’clock, then moving backwards, this time to try four o’clock. It clicked into its position louder than the other numbers had, and this time they couldn’t miss seeing the arrow shoot out, as it went up high, then nosedived with a PING into the roof’s gutter.
“Whew!” they sighed in unison, then linked hands in excitement and squealed.
“No more hexes,” Claire said.
“No, no more.”
“We’re almost done.” Claire rubbed her hands across her jeans. “If my hunch is right, when I turn it to one o’clock, something really interesting should happen.”
“Well, if that isn’t it, we should send a wrecking ball on this clock tower, because I don’t know anything else to do!”
Claire moved the hand around again to the number one with apprehension, daring to hope. Something clicked, and chains could be heard moving gears. The clock struck a bell once, loudly. Nothing seemed to happen more.
“I’m glad this wasn’t a twelve bell chime,” said Zo, putting her hands up to her ears. Then the chains began to pull and move again, only slower and lasting for several seconds, and then it stopped. Zo and Claire looked at each other questioningly. To their surprise, a four-foot door to the old clock tower opened. It revealed a large treasure chest, cranking forward.
“Oh, my gosh! That is actually it!” Claire squeaked. They both felt an adrenalin rush, grabbed hands and jumped up and down in a circle.
“I’m going to stay here, Claire. You go, nonchalantly
, to get Riley and Slobber. Sneak back here. We need their help. Don’t tell them anything.”
“Ohhh, it’s ‘Riley’ now.”
“Just go.”
TWENTY-SIX
Slobber had a big smile. He asked, excitedly, standing with the others on the roof, “You found it?!” Deputy Jones and Slobber were both told to keep quiet—they were so thrilled like little girls to see the chest, whispering all about it victoriously. The whispering continued in hushed laughter, as they went carrying the chest down the ladder. Slobber missed two rungs. “Sshhh.” Everyone whispered cautions and then laughed some more.
“Take it to the kitchen, boys. Everyone gets a piece of the pie,” said Zo in a low voice, not wanting to get rushed by a horde of people yet.
“Me and Riley, too?” asked Slobber.
“Especially you two.”
The people sitting in the kitchen were Cynthia, whose eyes grew as big as two silver dollars in a penny arcade when she saw the men hefting in a huge ol’ chest with big smiles on their faces; Kendaloaf and the town council; and three coven sisters, besides Judy and Debbie.
“You found it?!” Cynthia screamed, and then everyone was yelling and cheering.
Judy went running into the hallway yelling, “The treasure has been found! The treasure has been found!”
The judge came running down the stairs so fast you’d think he was thirty. The rest came running from wherever they were. Soon the kitchen was full and everyone was touching and looking over the chest. “Oh. I wish I was the one to find it,” said Anne sadly.
“Well, I’m glad somebody found it, finally! Who did find it?” asked Judge Huff.
“It was Zo and Claire,” answered Deputy Jones with a wry smile.
“Well, then, as there are no legal heirs at this point, the treasure is clearly theirs. It appears, though, that there will be some litigation on who has the ownership rights to this house, as there are no visible legal heirs to it either.”
“Wait, Judge,” a coven sister started. “The Coven House Witches have cause to be awarded legal rights to ownership of this house. We have been occupiers and caretakers of it for years, with our own money. And, since the treasure was found in this house, that would make it our property.”
“Except,” said Judy, “Matilda told me that the Kanes would get a great share. They found the proof that Matilda was a true Dread; and, they alone found the treasure.” She smiled at Claire especially with that announcement.
“The town council intends to lay claim to this site as an historical treasure, Your Honor. That would make the treasure ours for the good of the people,” one man said.
“You little government rats!” called Cynthia.
“I agree!” chimed in Judy. Cynthia and Judy looked at each other. A smile crept across Cynthia’s lips. Judy’s eyes responded with approval, as she returned a nod and a smile.
“Judge, Claire and I do not want any of the treasure.”
“What?” was mixed with “Why not?” and “Really?” from the bystanders.
“We give…,” Zo raised her voice above theirs, “our treasure to everyone here—equally.”
Cheers, laughter, and hugs went around the room. “Open it!” yelled one. “There might not be anything in that chest.” That dampened the crowd. “Party pooper!” another accused.
Zo looked at their two guy-pals, nodded and said to them, “Open it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Where’s a hammer or tool to do it with?” asked Slobber.
Everyone was on the run to find something, anything to get it opened. A coven sister came back with a lock cutter out of the utility porch. “We knew we’d need this one day.”
Slobber handed it over and said, “You do the honors, Riley.”
There was an audible “snap” and the old lock fell to the table. Both Slobber and Deputy Jones took hold and lifted the lid with only a little effort. “Ohhhs” and “Would you look at that!” passed through the lips of those who could speak. The rest had their hands up to their mouth and were speechless. There were giant pearls of every color, sprinkled like salt with huge red, green and blue gem stones.
Somebody started to reach forward to take one, when the judge pulled the hand away. “All of this is going to be counted, the stones and the pearls, and will go through a probate court since there seems to be a contest of ownership for the house and the treasure. You can take your portion in pearls and gems or in money from the best dealer. I suggest money. Unless the money gets all used up with lawyers for the next twenty years fighting over who owns what.”
Somebody said, “Twenty years?”
“Of course, it would be very nice to take a stone for a ring or pendent as a portion as shareholders. We can do that today.”
Claps and squeals showed the unanimous approval.
“Settle down.” He smiled. “Just put your choice in writing for the court record and I will make sure it gets to the right people for you.” He turned to Judy: “You got another lock?”
“Of course.” She went to get one.
“Now, you all will sleep in the library tonight with this chest in the middle on a table. You all will watch this chest, which is a treasure for you all, if you’re smart. Keep your eye on it! Tomorrow we probably can get the police here. Deputy Jones, myself and he”—he pointed to Slobber—“will escort the chest to the National Bank to hold it in their sizable security safe.”
He nodded to the deputy and Slobber. “You boys take this to the library now and set it on a table in the middle of the room. The rest of you follow and take a moment to get what you need to spend the night in there guarding your percentage. The Coven House Witches can bring drinks, snacks and food into us there. Okay! Get busy! You each could be very wealthy people.”
*
It was like a slumber party with lots of eating, telling stories, and especially laughing at disgusting—according to Claire, who even loathed the word—fart jokes, inspired by somebody’s toot. Some shared personal, embarrassing experiences, which made everyone laugh and shake their head. It was sure to bring relief to the immediate offender. Most believed the icebreaking sound came from Anne.
The funniest story was from a council-man, who told of sitting down on a metal pail, hoping to sneak one by, if only it hadn’t been for the container amplifying the sound with a vibrating, and humiliating, echo. The runner up was from Kendaloaf, who was at a singles’ party, standing in a doorway watching everyone, when he got an uncomfortable bubble. He backed up in the hall so as not to be heard, getting his relief, when two beauties came from behind and passed by with a “Helloooo, Bill.”
Finally, people settled down, for some light sleep, opening an eye to check out the chest now and then. Others vowed to sleep with their eyes open.
When morning arrived, the chest was still there. Breakfast was brought in. It was hardly light out when the police showed up in a big ol’ 4 x 4 pickup truck, raised with big back-road tires. Four got out, two riding in the crew cab. Body bags were pulled out and laid on the porch. Firemen arrived in three state-of-the-art back-road Jeeps, boasting overhead lights, coiled pulleys, ropes, chain ladders and boxes of supplies; they looked like they were going cliff rappelling. Neither group went in right away. The ten of them gathered to strategize on the lawn. When they entered the house, they asked for the deputy, Slobber, Zo and Claire.
The foursome told them their story, mapped out the chamber doors and what each hidden room contained. The firemen left and returned with backpacks, carrying between them a deflated raft and small motor with a propeller. They all suited up in their slickers with hoods. One man put on a black rain jacket with hood, having two white stripes around the bottom, and “Sheriff” printed in white on the back; he carried his gun under an underarm holster. All of them had shoulder radios. They were cautioned by Deputy Jones that the falls were vicious and there was a hole there that would swallow you to No Man’s Return. The firemen nodded. Slobber smiled all the way through the description.
Finally, Slobber asked, “How do you plan to deal with spiders that will crawl up yer pant legs and down yer neck?” His smile broadened.
A fireman reached into his pack and brought out two bug bombs. I’m going to activate these off in just a couple of minutes, before all of us go through.” The fireman smiled back.
“Well then,” returned Slobber, “how are you going to deal with vipers that can leap and bite ya, with killing poison?!”
The fireman reached into an open bag and brought out a cage of seven Mongoose. These go in following the spider bombs. We’ll make our way through after a while with these reptile terrorists. We don’t want to take the time for other poisons.”
“Okay! But what you gonna to do about the stinking smell of the sewer?”
The fireman turned to his comrades. “Did anyone bring gasmasks?”
“No. We didn’t think there was any harmful gas,” came the answer.
Slobber started to laugh a teaser’s winning guffaw and reached into his pocket. His hand came out with clothespins, and he handed them out to each man. “Heh hee heh.”
Finally, Zo turned over the key to most of the hexes and X’s. It seemed that everything was being finished up by the professional teams.
“Mom, what about John Harper’s death? Who murdered him? The police coroner is back there now. Let’s go back and see what he died from.”
When they entered the kitchen, the coroner was talking to Judy and Debbie. Zo asked, “What got Mr. Harper?”
The gray-haired man with a gentle mustache said, “Natural causes. He has a heart history. I did my research prior to coming here by talking to his doctor. There is nothing else it can be. He simply died from exertion in a horrible storm. Case closed.”
The mother-daughter team saw that all was done. They went up and packed, took their bedding down to the wash room, and awaited the Sheriff to say they could go. Since they didn’t have any claim to anything, there was nothing keeping them.
Then along came Jones: Too-Tall Jones.
He pulled Zo into an embrace. “I hate it that you are leaving.”
Cynthia had just rounded the corner and was about to climb the stairs. “Don’t worry about Riley, Zo. I will take good care of him for you,” she said in a sing-song manner.