Here they were searching a library for the answer to a clue that could be anything. The amount of things that the mind could associate with it was vast. He doubted if the treasure seekers that he had seen in films, who had chased after clues, could have answered the clues, which they had solved, in real life. Why had he never heard of anyone chasing after treasure? As far as he was concerned, the people who had found things had been looking for them in things like ships, which people had recorded as having treasure, and which something had sank in a specific region – not by solving strange riddles! People found them with machines and knowledge.
They would need a great deal of luck. People customarily only found treasure, searching the places that ships sank.
He realized that he now did not believe that people following clues, from things like Egyptian sites, ever found anything. They endlessly chased after the Holy Grail, Golden Fleece, and Egyptian treasures. The people who had found such things had been lucky – to have been in the right places, doing the right things, which had led them to find the things. Many people had found things while looking for other things. And he could not recall hearing of any of them finding what they had been looking for. However, he had not heard about that many searches.
He tried to compare their circumstances with what he had heard, but he could not recall anything.
He was sure that most people would have no real reasons to report finding anything. Why would they want to? Why tell that people had actually gone about hiding treasure, leaving maps, and riddles?
Would real treasure maps, which people drew, be incomprehensible to everyone else? They surely would try to stop someone else putting their hands on it. Why would they write down obvious places and names that they knew? If someone found it, the person would take it – if the person knew what it was (especially someone with an interest in it).
They could easily use codes and words that other people would not be able to understand. Perhaps they would miss out and muddle up things on it, so that other people would not be able to establish things, and if numbers were co-ordinates or paces. They could put in false clues, and easily remember the real ones.
Furthermore, the clue that Sir Richard had left could be incomprehensible everyone on the planet – apart from him – without him having even realized it. He might have based it on something that people from his era would have answered off the top of their heads.
Bryson was beginning to believe that James knew something, and it would not take long before they found out about it.
Chapter 26
The Real Library
As Bryson thought of where the best place to look was, as an alternative to flicking through endless empty books, he remembered the plan of the castle.
Then he watched James measure the floor, and he removed the crumpled map from his pocket. It was more damaged. But the plan on it was in the same condition. It slightly surprised him, as he expected it to have dulled lines and blemishes to the faint marks, because of its already bad condition and ancient age.
Bryson glared, partially blinded by the illumination from the sun, and its powerful glare from the snow. However, when it decreased, he saw much more detail – than he had seen before under the room’s light – and faint lines that had faded, and that had not been visible before.
He studied the things on it, astonished at missing them. And he saw something at the small cross at the library. The cross was so faint that he could easily have taken it to be a badly drawn mark or correction rubbed away. But he knew that it was something, after some consideration on that it was some form of indication!
Yet its size was not big – it looked too small to be significant – and it was not just a bad drawing, as it had been carefully drawn there. Why had the person gone to such lengths to draw it so well into the sketch?
Bryson stood up, and started helping James to measure the room, who took it that he knew what he knew.
They paced across the library room – from the furthest wall into the outer study. Then they left the room, and they paced along the corridor, to the same distance.
At the door to the next room, they saw that there was a large distance between that room wall and the library wall. And the room wall did not sound as thick when they tested it, and it was not as thick a stone wall as in the other rooms.
It had to be some type of cupboard where they had once stored things, and they had no longer used. If so, someone had hidden it, like the secret tunnel leading to the kitchen.
Had Sir Richard known that it had been there? And had he been the one who had marked it on the old map, and had forgotten about it?
Nonetheless, how could they check it? Where could the entrance to it be? It could be sealed, but there could be a way to climb into it.
Bryson considered it for a moment, remembering the last time that he had been up at the top floor, and the hole in the wall that they had made to enter the tunnel. Did James intend to knock a hole in one of the walls?
Robert’s face showed puzzlement, indicating that he had not realized what it was. There was something in the book in front of him that interested him more.
“I’m not sure,” Bryson replied, removing some books, and tapping the wood, listening to see how hollow it was. There obviously was not any stone behind it. He was sure of that!
“Why would someone put library shelves over an empty area?” James replied. “They normally put them on a wall – attaching it – making it secure! – using the full amount of room available for it.”
“Which looks small to me!” Robert answered.
James marched over to it, and tapped it at various places. “It’s hollow!” he firmly confirmed.
Robert dropped his book onto the table, suddenly looking more energetic – gaining energy from the thrill that there was another discovery about to be investigated.
“It would be a shame to ruin this library,” Bryson explained, considering the tunnel that he had made. “If there’s nothing there – we could make a hell of a mess!”
“How can we check what’s behind it then?”
“We’ll need to tug at it,” Robert replied. “Then we may be able to find out what is holding it in place.”
“They had to have fixed it to the roof, floor, and walls. How else could they make it stay fixed in place like that without it?”
“Let’s check it first, before we come to any conclusions.”
The three of them went to different places at the shelves, and they synchronously yanked at it – feeling its weight and that it was thick, heavy wood.
Robert’s side then slightly shifted outwards – proving nothing was holding it there, and that it only had something stopping it going further into the hollow section behind it.
“Let’s pull Robert’s section out,” Bryson uttered, “and see if we can shift it any further.”
When they grabbed and heaved at Robert’s side, it shifted easily – and they continued pulling it out in stages – like a giant door.
There was no sign that anything kept it there. Its weight was enough to hold it. And Bryson looked for what had been stopping it moving further inwards, and he found a dark space had opened up behind it.
Large webs stretched across it like a giant veil.
Bryson allowed James to go into the gap, pulling away the layer of webs. At a position where the blackness engulfed him, he fumbled about with a cable on the wall.
Suddenly, the whole wall shifted outwards, and Robert automatically pushed it, until it was near the window – revealing a hidden section behind it, full of books.
“It’s another section of the library!” James uttered first, looking confused.
“Someone must have put it there to fit in more books,” Robert uttered excitedly, looking at the cable.
Bryson traced the cable, while they watched.
It went into the wall that the corridor was behind. It had to be connected to something to open it, in the direction of the study.
“That’s crude,�
� Robert observed. “I’ve never heard of that before. Perhaps it’s a Victorian invention ... They had such contraptions ...!”
Robert glared at the books with much interest. “These are a lot different ...”
Chapter 27
The Diary
Bryson observed the whole inner library, as he entered it, from a distance, seeing what would become noticeable. His sight instantly fell on an old black book.
For some reason, he could not determine why it seemed as if it had been placed there!
He soon realized that it was not a normal book: it was a diary, and it had events scribbled through it with a quill pen.
“What do you have?” James asked, with interest.
“It’s a diary ...”
Bryson conjured up images of one of his ancestors, wearing giant ancient clothes, at a desk, at it, giving their daily thoughts ...
Yet the more he read it the more important it became, and it then gave him details of hidden treasure.
There was no doubt about it, and he dropped it on the table not caring if it damaged it.
It was an authentic diary of one of his ancestors, who had stayed in the castle during the Victorian era, and who had been the daughter of the owner. It gave extended accounts of the woman, the activities that she had taken part in, and the things that had happened to her. It was so personal in places that he was sure that it had not been supposed to have been read by anyone except her, and that she had written it to herself to look back on at an older age.
The references in the journal to a treasure began with mentions of tales that had been passed down to her by her father, who had insisted that the family had passed the information down to him (as they had done since the construction of the castle).
“So what is it?” Robert remarked, observing his strange reactions.
“I think that there’s another fortune hidden here!” Bryson uttered, astonished, dropping the book again, producing a bang. “This woman’s father told her about a treasure that their ancestor who had the castle built had hidden here ...
“There’s a page missing!” he announced, frantically looking for it.
He then lost interest, and read more, trying to find something that would prove him right.
“Do you know,” he explained aloud, “that William Randall hid the remains of his vast fortune ...”
This finally grabbed Robert’s attention.
“It actually says that?”
Bryson turned it about, pointing at part of the text. And he took it, and read it for ten minutes.
“It does: it says William Randall hid it in case any of his enemies attacked the castle. It mentions that he intended to capture the castle back, and that he died with it still hidden ...”
Chapter 28
Perilous Endeavors
There were no clouds in the morning sky. The snow had stopped at around midnight.
Bryson lifted the previous day’s newspapers from the floor, below the bed, and recollected the weather, just before he came to the weather forecast. There was a worsening forecast for the rest of the week.
The servant’s death, on the front cover, was startling, but he had known and expected to see it. What it surprised him about was how far they described where the castle was.
He did not know why the reporters and other media people were taking such an interest in the place.
But it was the twenty-first century. People, even about this region, would not take news events, even happening around them, very seriously – and take that much notice. However, he was sure that they would have noticed this story, with a murder occurring.
It made him fully realize how out of the way the place was.
Bryson lifted the sheets, to climb out of bed, and gave a spontaneous shudder, as he felt the coldness of the room – with a slight draft blowing through it, from the door to the window.
He dressed himself quickly, and instinctively, ignoring it, trying to think of a way to warm the room. Then he moved over to the window.
From the snow, there were no signs that any cars had entered or left the castle – also proving that the servants had not arrived yet.
He considered how they would arrive at the castle if the snow blocked the road, as it probably would.
It was just like Sir Richard to die in the middle of winter – while blizzards were tormenting the landscape.
Bryson filled a bag with some things that he wanted to take with him. He cleaned his winter jacket, and folded it over his arm. It felt slightly damp though, which could prove that some dampness had entered the room.
He wanted to go out before it snowed.
He unlocked the door, and closed it at the outside.
There were no sounds from the other rooms.
None of them had even suggested seeing the hidden library, and it surprised him that they had not found it – considering the amount of ground that they were covering.
As he wandered through the silent corridor, towards the library, and to Merton and Mortimer, he considered what to do. There were two main options, which he could see: they could stay in the library or they could keep looking in the rooms.
He glanced into some of the rooms, to see if there were any doors similar to the door on the library room.
At the library door, he heard vocal tones from inside. They sounded very awake, and that they had gone in there not that long ago – rather than them being there for many hours.
But they usually were more awake at late and early hours.
They usually needed to stay awake to check things satisfactory. Even though many investigators set up their equipment and left it – and checked the results later.
They enjoyed their work, and the thrill of the encounter. But he was unsure that they had fully accepted that there were real dangers.
One look in the library, and at them, confirmed that he was right – they were active, cleaned up, and ready for action.
What they were thinking of doing was not quite clear though, and he could not imagine that they were excited about sitting in the library.
The books were at their feet, and they were studying opened books, all over the table.
“Did all of you have anything to eat?”
“Yes!” Mortimer replied. “And we had a good meal last night – with Inspector Bailey.”
“Did you find anything here?”
“Nothing significant!” Merton replied, looking slightly guilty. “There are Victorian books on psychic research, which are very interesting, for our normal research, but there is little to do with here. Other than the fact that the books show that someone here was interested in explaining what was occurring here.”
What did they think of the castle now that they had read the stuff and had conducted their experiments (besides being confused about certain things)? What sort of ghosts went rampaging through woods?
If the local stories were correct, it was capable of smashing to bits a horse carriage, and it could knock over trees.
Its strength must have limits, or the entire wood would have trees strewn about it, as though a hurricane had been through it.
However, when they had checked the wood, there had been no prints from it, and there had been no noticeable trees turned over. But it might be able to do it under the certain circumstances (which could mean that it could change its strength). Perhaps it could change its speed, making it even more dangerous.
It could be an entity with a type of computer intelligence, programmed to attack humans.
But who had programmed it?
“We would like to see those tombs you mentioned!” Mortimer declared, smiling – instantly grabbing his attention – producing thoughts of it smashing him to bits.
Bryson hesitated for a moment, and steadied himself – calming his mind.
They obviously had a good reason for wanting to go there. Even though he did not know why it was so important.
It even managed to overshadow the sounds of that room – perhaps for the f
irst time in his life.
What would his life have been like if he had met with those things in the wood ...?
“Why do you want to go there?” he answered.
“There are numerous reasons ...” Merton stated, obviously avoiding answering his question. “We want to look around – as part of our research!”
“Nothing should happen during the day,” Mortimer continued. “It only manifests at night ...”
“So all the stories say! If you want to go there, then I’ll take you. But I would prefer to go now, if you do not mind. It becomes dark pretty early here. There’s also a chance that it may snow today.”
“Perfect!” Merton replied.
Bryson walked over to the window, to look about the trees. A few crows flew over them, indicating that there was food or something near them – and they were hungry.
Suddenly, he saw something moving to the castle, through the wood.
The figure of the butler emerged, on the road going to the castle, which was attracting the attention of the birds.
The rest of servants appeared, with the butler leading them towards the castle. He was sure that they had walked from where they had parked their vehicles. They more than likely had left them at a place on the road that would not be covered over in deep snow, under a thicker part of the wood, where they could reach the main road from.
He was not aware of how dangerous it was. Why had nothing happened to them before? Surely people had walked through there, in the dark, countless times, over the years. The place would have had the same weather conditions – the climate had created many blizzards over the years. Could the place somehow be out of reach of the things in the wood? Moreover, had he come across it by accident – being incredibly unlucky? Its haunts, according to the stories, were at distant and unpopulated regions of the estate. There was no noticeable logic to this logic!
He listened to the servants enter the building, laughing at a joke. He realized that they might be able phone the local council, or where the snowploughs were, for the region, to ask them to clean the road.
The Lost Treasure Map Series Page 8