He knew very well how heavy the case was. It was by far the heaviest of the equipment that they were carrying, and he was sure that he had intended it to be – for his joke, and to lift the burden he would have had.
Mortimer had taken many precautionary measures, so that nothing like water would damage it. Anything was better than equipment that badly functioned, or never functioned, when needed – and it was not possible to replace it in the near future.
Yet they were going to leave their equipment out here, where they would not go near at night.
If they did have hidden plans, and attempted to stay, they might try to persuade him into doing so. If anything happened, he would never forgive them. It was one thing carrying out their experiments, where there were only chances of them losing their equipment.
They surprised him at times. They strangely argued about the possible existence of paranormal things, but when he insisted that there could be danger, they insisted that the danger was little, if it even existed.
There was no evidence of anything having taken place in the wood, and he had only witnessed noises, which remarkably similar to the ones at the rooms. It was the fact that he had never seen it, and that there had been no signs left from it. All he had as proof that it ever had been there were his reflections of what he had heard.
“Come on now,” Merton restlessly remarked, “we’re almost there.”
Mortimer showed some agitation, at them stopping so close to where he wanted to be. Yet Bryson wanted to rest, and so did Merton by the looks of him. Perhaps Mortimer would help carry the heavy equipment the next time.
“It’s a good day,” Bryson replied, reassuring him, and removing his radio, from his jacket.
He stood, playing with the frequency, moving it in different directions – locating the right place. And he increased the volume. The gap in the trees surprisingly had not completely cut off the signal.
He then realized that there were no forecasts going to be put on anyway, and he flicked it off and dropped it into his pocket. Then he raced after Merton and Mortimer, who had moved away out in front, with full intentions of leaving him further behind.
He had not heard any forecasts, even though he had been listening and adjusting the stations on it for most of the morning. They seemed to have lost interest in it.
“The weather should stay the same,” he finally reassured himself, trying to sense and detect anything that would indicate it. But he could not, and remained unsure.
He should have bought something that would key into the meteorology center, to give him a constant forecast.
Why did they have to take so much equipment to the vault? It was worryingly starting to resemble a test site, than his ancestral resting place.
The amount of time it was going to consume was unthinkable. They would have been better off remaining in that library – wasting time there. There were possibilities that they could come up with something from one of the books. And they, at least, could complete their search.
Bryson rushed over their trail in the snow, trying to catch up.
He was starting to see the point of view of searching for it at the castle. He was annoyed, as they could have searched many different places – especially places that nobody had searched.
Yet there were possibilities that they could shed light on what that thing had been.
He just did not believe their theories about it being the ghosts of the wood that were the last. And he did not really believe that that anything else that they found there would lead them to the money.
Merton and Mortimer rapidly moved into the small clearing where the structure was, with their eyes darted about searching the ground, for any signs of prints that were not theirs.
When Bryson approached it, he hardly looked, but he listened instead.
He carefully placed their equipment at the entrance, leaving it where they could get it.
He felt better without it, and he wandered about, through a deep patch of snow, allowing the heat of the sun to go over his face.
There were possibilities of the money being in the grounds. Surely it was not in the vegetation though!
Bryson peered into the trees, into brightly lit areas – delving deep, in different directions – fascinated by the prospect that he might have overlooked a possibility. What if there was more here than the vault, as Robert had suggested? What if there was another structure or something here? There were possibilities that Sir Richard had hidden it there.
Why did they take it for granted that there was not another structure? What if there were other things out there? They would not have thought that there was a vault in the wood if they had not seen it from the castle. And they had not even known that it was a vault, and their ancestral tombs. They had wanted to discover what the mysterious place had been.
The people in the castle, in summer, when they had built it, might have openly moved about the grounds – and garden – during the day – having such things as picnics. People in the past never stayed inside builds that much. The wood would have been much younger, and full of life, with animals and birds in vast amounts. He could recall many woods that had changed in a few decades – never mind over hundreds of years.
Most of the trees were nothing like that age. A few giant oak trees looked about the age of the castle though.
They could have had places all about the wood where they had visited. Such as a river.
He would like to give the wood a good search. It had to have more than trees. The more he thought it over the more he liked it.
Merton started collecting the equipment, moderately annoyed about Bryson putting more prints on the snow than he needed to do. Of course, he was right, as they needed to check for signs of anything, especially with them carrying out their experiments.
Bryson moved back over his precise trail, making as little mess as he could.
In the vault, Bryson heard Merton saying that he wanted to survey the upper floor of the structure, while Mortimer wanted to concentrate everything at the tombs.
“It would be a good idea having something here,” Bryson agreed with Merton, pushing away the door, going towards them.
“Why?” Mortimer argued, blinded by some desire.
“For one thing,” he explained, “not every grave in the world has a ghost. In fact, I have not heard of any graves with ghosts, and, as far as I have heard, they usually occur where people die. Beside there are no accounts, anywhere, that there is anything here.”
“You’ve a point,” Mortimer quickly agreed, not really seeing the point. “So, where do you think we should look?”
“If this is the place of the last, mentioned in the clue, it does not mean that they would be down there.”
“Okay!” Merton reassured him. “We’ve video equipment that reacts to movements, lights, and sounds.”
“Well, I’d like to have it outside. Perhaps on one of the trees.”
“What!” Merton grumbled, expecting him to reply about putting the camera in the upper structure.
“That’s interesting,” Mortimer replied, slightly smiling.
Mortimer glanced through a gap in the doorway, and at the trees, covered in snow.
“Well, if this is the place where the last dwell, we should have a full view of this whole place, going back as far as possible, into the distance – capturing as much as possible, and the wood.”
“If it snows,” Mortimer went on, “the weather could damage it though.”
“We could leave it at the window,” Merton muttered, thinking of his line of thought. “As well as it filming here ...”
“Look!” Mortimer argued. “You can check the sound in here, and you can put a camera over there. Then if we do pick anything up anywhere, we can use more equipment at the place tomorrow.”
Bryson and Merton nodded, still insisting that they were right.
“But if it does snow,” Merton muttered to Bryson, “the water will damage it!”
Bryson removed a w
aterproof translucent bag for the camera from his pocket, which he had once used before.
“The snow could cover it,” Merton continued.
“I’ll put it at an area of a tree that the snow will not reach, to get a proper picture.”
Merton considered it, and showed a baffled expression, and, perhaps, his thoughts – that it was a daft idea. Then he careful opened the case to fetch it.
Bryson prepared to head for the door with the camera, but Mortimer decided to show him its basic functions.
“It has various means of detection,” Mortimer spoke, showing him various parts of it. “It detects unusual things! It detects various forms of energy. It detects the environment around it, remembers it, and continuously searches for any changes in it, which will activate it. Sound and infrared detection included! It can record the darkest things, which even the eye cannot see, and it can film it in infrared at the same time. And it also records sounds by focusing in on anything that it detects, and it records it in a far better quality and degree than the human ear.”
Mortimer demonstrated its functions, showing him how to work it, and the recorded results.
Even though Mortimer had argued about putting it there, he started to think of it as not just being a useless concept. As something worthwhile might activate it. And it might film the light that Bryson had seen in the wood.
Mortimer carefully fixed it up. He was very experienced with such devices, and Bryson wondered if they could find anything if given enough time.
“It runs – and it’ll automatically turn off ...”
Bryson carefully fitted it into his bag, and he securely fixed it onto his jacket, so that he could easily remove it.
He had found the perfect place for it, but he would have to do some awkward climbing to reach there.
Merton and Mortimer stood at the door, as he strolled over the snow towards the trees.
As he pulled himself up the first branches, lightly gripping them, using his legs against its trunk more, he decided to try to achieve a quick climb.
Its branches were more like a strange ladder, evenly spaced, at a few feet apart. The scent of pine mingling with the snow was overwhelming. The view captivated him, encouraging him to keep going up.
Were they wasting their time? Would ghosts activate this equipment?
It might be useless too, as strong winds and swaying trees might ruin the project. A storm might swiftly use up the memory and battery power. But he doubted it! He was now more interested in if it would do its job in a storm.
He realized that they were using the latest technology available, and that science might have finally advanced far enough to get perfect recordings of ghosts.
He considered adapting other technology to progress further.
Perhaps, as Mortimer had once suggested, one day scientists would be the first to capture a ghost with such technology.
A gust of wind made the tree sway about, causing snow to fall over him, and he stopped until it subsided.
The view from the tree was tremendous – and he saw that he was high enough already.
Merton and Mortimer’s figures were in the shade of the building – with their arms firmly folded – looking slightly bemused.
Bryson rested over a branch, occasionally testing its safety. And he spotted a better place for the camera, where it was not observable.
If Merton and Mortimer had not been there, and anxiously waiting on his return, he would stay where he was to rest more.
He considered if there was any primal instinct in his genes to like being in the tree, considering humans had such close genetic links to monkeys.
It was relaxing and interesting!
What would it be like staying there though, in a tree house?
He had seen them out in Africa, with all the comforts that he needed.
Once he had set up the camera, he began descending, shifting downwards, and he quickly arrived at the lower branches.
Mortimer moved down into the lower vault, with his equipment. While Merton continued setting up a sound recording instrument, behind the stairs, next to a window.
At the door, Bryson observed the tree, and instantly noticed how hidden it was, and that he would not see it. If the presence of the equipment altered anything, it might work better.
If anything, it was far more interesting than Mortimer’s plan. He could not imagine anything happening there.
His sight fell on the interior of the vault, and he remembered the sounds in the room.
What was causing it?
Everything had a logical reason! Why could there not be anything existing there? Why would there not be anything at the tombs? In other words, he did not fully understand, and he did not believe anyone properly knew, from what he had heard.
Merton finished, and he followed him down the stairs to Mortimer.
What sounds would they find there? He tried to see Mortimer’s view, and why it would not be a waste of time monitoring there.
Merton and Mortimer adjusted a machine, and tested its recording ability. It fascinated them – capturing spirits from the afterlife, with such devices.
Bryson removed a bottle of wine, which he had managed to carry, and he poured it down his dry throat. Then he continued to take swigs, as he felt it restore his energy.
He tried to think of a new ways of detecting things.
Mortimer passed him, checking what he was doing, as he went to another place.
Bryson imagined a black shape in the pine trees, through a window at the top of the stairs, resembling a ghost animal. Like some primordial memory of an ape, hidden in its blackness. Like a spirit merged with a yeti.
Why did large creatures not exist out here. Although apes and monkeys did not inhabit such northerly regions, normal bears survived in Alaska. While polar animals liked surviving at unbelievable temperatures.
Foxes and deer had survived – while wolves, bears, and large cats had not.
It was relaxing sitting at such a place.
He observed wisps of smoke forming ghostly shapes, over the dimness below him, from Merton’s cigarette.
A gust of wind entering through the door, soon shifted the shapes, dispersing them through the air.
Merton was now content to remain there. He insisted that Mortimer wanted to put the equipment there without any help.
He recognized some of Mortimer’s antics, and that he was going to be there a long time – setting everything up at the precise places and angles, in the way that only he could do it.
Mortimer tapped away at a nail, trying not to make the noise too loud – thrusting it just hard enough to insert it into a crack in the vault wall.
They covered everything – with as much consideration as possible – in the time that they had given themselves. Mortimer still seemed to have thoughts about the camera in the tree. Though he was now sure that he thought that there was a good reason having it there.
The idea had originated from their conversations in the library – that they had built the burial site on the place where spirits, or whatever, dwelt.
Mortimer glimpsed at his watch, and it made him clumsily drop a wire from a machine that he was fitting in place.
Bryson suddenly realized that he was concentrating the equipment around the tomb of William Randall!
Chapter 35
Beyond Comprehension
Bryson settled down, removed his jacket, and realized that the servants were behaving strangely.
He sensed a disturbing disbelief about something, and that there was something going to occur. Yet there was no indication of what! It seemed, as the servants marched about, doing their regular finishing duties, like they expected them to know or somehow sense it.
It was not only their peculiar reactions, including their rush to escape from the place. Inspector Bailey had a nervous appearance, about something, which seemed above his jurisdiction, and which made him gladly retreat, away to his room.
It had to be to do with the others, an
d, perhaps, what they were doing to find the money. It almost seemed grotesque, whatever it was.
Were they going to dig up some hideous thing or destroy something that they should not?
Then, as they left the dark and silent hallway, faint murmurs of a stranger’s voice began emerging – from within the firmly shut door of the dining room.
Merton hesitated – moved in front of them – and shoved his head into a gap in the door.
“My god!” he whispered, but swiftly calmed himself, realizing the true nature of something, leaving them wondering what the cause of such a reaction could be.
In the deep blackness, within the room, a few glowing faces, near flickering yellow flames, on candles, became visible.
Mortimer glanced in, shut the door, and showed deep concern. “They’ve a spiritualist!”
“Doing what?” Bryson asked confused, now not recognizing what the problem was.
“They’re holding a séance!”
He peeped through the gap in the door, which this time obviously disturbed the people within.
“What do they want with her?” he mumbled.
Robert appeared from the edge of the door, emerging from dimness, and came through into the hall, swiftly closing the door behind him.
“What are they up to?” Merton gasped, thinking of some implications.
“They’re trying to speak to the spirits ...” he muttered, slightly embarrassed.
“Why?”
He smiled, and put his hand at his hip. “To cut a long story short – after a discussion – they decided to bring in a medium to get more information about where the money is. It sounds absurd! I know ... But we’re having a great deal of fun anyway!”
Merton and Mortimer stared at each other, giving some hidden communication, making him wonder which of them was the most affected.
“It should be interesting,” Merton finally remarked, to Robert, looking at Mortimer. “We don’t usually allow people to overshadow us in our detection methods.”
“You’re right,” Mortimer replied firmly, as though talking to himself. “I’d like to see what happens ...”
“Has anything occurred?” Bryson stated, and Robert nodded that there had not been. However, it was clear that they had just started.
The Lost Treasure Map Series Page 11