Alice grinned. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“It’s only fun when you can actually solve the puzzle,” Annie groused.
“Now, now,” Alice said, shaking her finger. “Burly-Boy mode, remember?”
****
For the next couple of days, Annie went through her usual routine with half of her mind focused on her normal daily tasks and half if it sifting through different ways she might help Mary Beth save A Stitch in Time. Everything—it seemed—was either impractical or impossible. Finally she went across the lawn to the carriage house and knocked on the door.
There was no answer. Alice was probably giving one of her jewelry parties. Or was it Divine Décor this time?
With a sigh, Annie turned to go back home. Before she reached her own door, Alice’s red Mustang turned into her driveway.
“Hey. Were you looking for me?”
Annie waved and scurried over to the car. “I was thinking maybe you and I should go over to Mary Beth’s and do some brainstorming. What do you think?”
“I think you’re nuts,” Alice said with a good natured shake of her head, “but if Mary Beth is willing to have a little company, I’m game. As long as the conversation in no way turns to anything concerning the selling of costume jewelry. I’ve had my fill for the day.”
Annie laughed. “Let me call Mary Beth and see if she’ll let us stop by, and then I’ll grab my purse and be right out.”
Annie hurried inside and punched in a telephone number. Mary Beth picked up before it even rang.
“That was quick.”
“Annie? I was trying to call you.”
They both laughed.
“Listen, Mary Beth, Alice and I thought that, if you’re up to it, we’d come by your place and brainstorm about the Burly Boy problem.”
“Ugh. I don’t know if my brain will go there anymore. But, yeah, come on over. I have something for you to see.”
“Ooh, what?”
“Uh-uh. You’ll just have to come and see.”
****
Alice’s Mustang got her and Annie to Mary Beth’s in record time, and Mary Beth was standing at the door waiting for them.
“You won’t believe what I got in the mail today. Come in, you two, and sit down. Coffee?”
Alice and Annie followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“So what did you get? Did Burly Boy decide to build somewhere else?”
Mary Beth frowned. “No, that’s still on, I’m afraid. Mr. Huggins hasn’t signed the papers yet, but my time is about up, and I don’t have any more alternatives.”
“I’m sorry, Mary Beth,” Annie murmured. “I wish there was something we could do.”
“It’s OK. That’s not why I called you over here anyway. I thought you’d like to see this.”
She put a letter down on the table in front of them.
Ms. Brock—
I thought you’d want this. I’m sorry it’s not really worth anything except as a little family history. Thanks again.
Alice snatched up the paper. “It’s signed Frank Sanders. Well.”
“Wait a minute. You didn’t let me read the P.S.” Annie took the letter from her. “‘I told you I’d make it up to you.’ What does that mean? What was in the letter?”
Mary Beth opened a notebook and brought out another letter, this one very old and yellowed. Annie recognized the writing at once.
“That’s from Geoffrey.”
Her eyes sparkling, Mary Beth nodded. “It was hidden in that secret cubby hole all these years, and we never even knew it. I’m glad Mr. Sanders was good enough to send it back to me. I think it belongs with Angeline’s dance card and her other memories of Geoffrey.”
Annie strained to read the faded ink.
Sweetheart,
I fear I do not have good news for you. I spoke to Mother regarding the legacy left me by my Grandfather Whyte. She still refuses to grant me any part of it until I come of legal age. Four months is not so long, my darling, but I cannot bear the thought of leaving you alone and unprotected should the war well and truly come to pass.
If only Mother knew you. She would love you, as anyone who knows you must. For the present, however, I will find some way to provide for you that she will not know of.
Be patient.
Yours with all my heart,
Geoffrey
Below that, still in Geoffrey’s handwriting, was the original of the clues Sanders had copied down to carry around with him:
Stand between the trees,
face to the north, move west to east
from the west move south to north
from the south move east to west
from the east move north to south
from the north move east again
from the south move downward
and then the key …
Just as she finished reading, Annie heard four delicate chimes from the direction of the mantelpiece—from Mary Beth’s antique clock.
“I didn’t know it chimed,” Annie said, enchanted by the angelic tinkling of the bell.
Mary Beth laughed. “After all this time, I didn’t know it either. Isn’t it beautiful? Your Mr. Malcolm did wonders with it, and after it had been silent for so long.”
“Well, that’s a treasure in itself,” Alice said. “Though it’s too bad we couldn’t find what Geoffrey left behind.”
Mary Beth sighed. “I’m sure Mr. Sanders searched all over this clock looking for another clue. And Mr. Malcolm would have taken it all apart when he was fixing it. There’s just nothing here anymore. Maybe it’s not even the right clock.”
Annie stood staring, seeing but not seeing the clock before her. “Between the trees. Between the trees! Oh my goodness, I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been!” She turned the clock around. “What are those?”
Mary Beth wrinkled her forehead. “They’re trees, but you can’t really stand between them, can you?”
“No, think about it.” Annie turned the clock back around the right way and tapped the glass on the front. “What is this?”
“The face, but—”
Annie took the clock off the mantel and set it down on the end table. “If I stand ‘between the trees’ like this …” She stood behind the clock. “… and if I assume the face is facing north, then what happens if I follow these directions?”
Alice laughed. “And do what? Wander around the way it says until an amazing treasure magically appears? There’s nothing in there.”
“I don’t know, but I want to try something.” Annie put both hands on the base of the clock. “Read me the first part.”
Mary Beth picked up the paper and read: “Stand between the trees, face to the north, move west to east.”
“OK, stop there. If the face is north, and I’m standing behind it, ‘between the trees,’ then west is to my left and east is to my right.”
Annie pushed on the base of the clock, trying to slide the front from the left to the right. At first nothing happened, and then it budged a little. She pushed harder, and part of it moved to one side.
Mary Beth’s mouth fell open. “Oh Annie.”
Annie’s hands trembled. “I wasn’t sure it would work, but it was the last thing I could think of. I’ve seen those Chinese puzzle boxes. They look like they’re just solid blocks of wood, but if you know the right pattern, you can open them up.”
“Amazing,” Alice breathed.
“Which way next, Mary Beth?” Annie asked.
“From the west move south to north.”
Annie slid the left side of the clock base forward and then looked again to Mary Beth.
“From the south move east to west.”
Annie pushed the backside of the base to her left. “And then?”
“From the east move north to south, and then from the north, move east again.”
Annie pushed the right side of the base toward herself and then slid the front panel further to the right. “OK, and then what?”
>
“I can’t stand it,” Mary Beth said, her voice unsteady.
“What’s next!” Alice insisted.
“All right already!” Mary Beth took a deep breath. “From the south move downward, and then the key.”
Annie slid the back of the base down, exposing a tiny keyhole, and then she glanced up at both of them. “And then the key.”
“Wait a minute.” Mary Beth disappeared into her kitchen and then came back with the little brass key Sanders had turned over to her. “Here it is.”
Annie stepped back from the clock. “Go ahead.”
Alice’s blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, come on. You’re making me crazy.”
Mary Beth turned the key until there was a little clicking sound and then she gave it a tug. The key and the whole backside of the clock base came away in her hand, exposing a small hollow space packed with cotton wadding.
“Goodness!” She pulled out several pieces, but there was still more. “No wonder we thought this was a solid block of wood. Whatever’s in here, if there’s anything besides packing, certainly wouldn’t rattle.”
Annie felt one of the pieces of wadding. “It’s almost like new, it’s been protected from light and moisture for so long.”
“At last!” Mary Beth had finally exposed the treasure Geoffrey had left for Angeline more than 150 years before. It sparkled at its first touch of light. “Oh my. Oh … it’s just …”
She pulled on it, and out slid a glittering multistringed necklace of rubies, diamonds, and pearls set in gold.
“Ooh,” Annie breathed.
For once, Alice was speechless.
Mary Beth shook her head. “That is … it’s … I can’t believe it.”
“Is there anything else in there?” Annie asked. “You ought to check.”
Mary Beth pulled out the rest of the cotton wadding, revealing a matching ring and earrings. All of the jewelry was in pristine condition, sparkling as if it had just been made.
She traced her finger over the ornate golden setting that held the necklace’s largest ruby. “Do you think … I mean, could they possibly be real?”
The three of them just sat staring for a very long time.
“I’m just—” Mary Beth caught her breath. “I’m so overwhelmed, my head’s spinning.”
Annie examined the jewels a little more closely. “I don’t know what these are worth, but it has to be a lot. Surely it would be enough to buy your building.”
“If they’re real,” Alice reminded her.
Mary Beth’s expression sobered. “Wait a minute. If this was Geoffrey’s and Angeline never got it, wouldn’t it be part of his estate? Maybe I don’t have any right to it at all, real or not.”
“What do you mean?” Alice frowned. “It’s been in your family for years, whether or not you knew about it. And obviously, he meant for her to have it. How could it not be yours?”
Annie thought for a minute. “I don’t know. Even if it was legally hers, what about any other heirs? If Angeline was your great-great-grandmother, what about your great-aunts and -uncles? Or their heirs? The money from this might have to be spread out among a lot of people.”
Mary Beth sat down, still staring at the sparkling jewelry. “I didn’t think about that. I guess I’m right back where I started.”
“Do you have a family tree written down anywhere?” Annie asked. “Maybe it would give you some idea about who you’d have to consider.”
“Just the Bible. I think my grandmother kept birth and death records in it up to when Mom was born. I know Mom’s only brother and sister died of diphtheria when they were children back in the 1930s. I’ll have to look up the rest.”
Mary Beth’s family Bible was well read but in amazingly good condition for its age. Still, Annie took extra care when turning the fragile pages. The earliest marriage listed was that of Angeline’s parents, John Morrow and Paralee Walling in 1837. Angeline was the third of their eleven children. Angeline and her husband, Mary Beth’s great-great-grandfather James Parish, had only one daughter, Emma. Emma had one daughter and three sons, but all of the boys died in 1918.
“That was Mom’s mother and her uncles,” Mary Beth said when Annie asked about them. “Grandma said her brothers were all killed at the battle of Château-Thierry in World War I.”
“None of them had children?” Alice asked.
“No. I think they were all very young.”
“Then, really, it seems to me that whatever was left to Angeline would be passed down to you, Mary Beth.” Annie smiled and handed the Bible back to her. “And you know Geoffrey intended the jewelry for her. I don’t think you have to worry about being entitled to it.”
There was worry in Alice’s expression. “I don’t know if Geoffrey’s intentions are enough to give you good claim to the jewelry, Mary Beth. A letter vaguely talking about providing for Angeline isn’t the same thing as a legal will.”
“But he didn’t have children when he died,” Annie protested.
“No, but he would likely have had brothers or sisters who did. No, wait, didn’t you say Geoffrey was the only son? Anyway, he may have had sisters, and it’s their descendants who might have a claim. With something as valuable as that necklace, you’ll have them crawling out from under rocks for a share of the money. And it might leave Mary Beth out entirely.”
“But it’s been in our family for a century and a half,” Mary Beth protested, and then she sighed. “But I suppose, if someone else has the right to it, he might need it as badly as I do—or worse. And honestly, I don’t want anything that really belongs to someone else.”
“Obviously, this isn’t going to be a simple matter to get cleared up.” Annie smiled at Mary Beth. “I think you need to talk to an appraiser and a lawyer, and find out what you need to do next.”
Alice picked up the necklace and held it up to her neck, admiring herself in the mirror over Mary Beth’s couch. “This red doesn’t really work with my hair, I suppose, but, ooh, isn’t it pretty?”
Annie laughed. “That’s not Princessa, you know. You’d better be careful with it.”
“I don’t think I want it in the house.” Mary Beth took the necklace back. “If even one of those stones is real, it’s worth a lot. I don’t know what kind of trouble I’d be in if something happened to it now.”
Annie checked her watch. “If we hurry, we can get to the bank before it closes. I’m sure they’d love to give you a safe-deposit box to keep that in until you can get it appraised and insured.” She laughed suddenly. “If only Frank Sanders could see us now.”
Mary Beth mouth turned up at the corners. “If only he had had all the pieces of the puzzle, he might have found the jewelry.”
“I guess Geoffrey wanted to make sure his mother didn’t know about Angeline,” Annie said, “or her name would have been in his diary and other papers. Then Sanders might have found the treasure after all.”
Mary Beth nodded. “I guess it helped that she didn’t live near the Whyte place either. That might have made her easier to trace too.”
Annie knit her brows. “She didn’t?”
“Oh no. Didn’t you say the Whytes were in Fairfax County? That side of our family came from Clarke County, a little west of there. Grandma always told us that’s where her family had been for five generations before her, and that’s where she was going to stay. I’m sure that’s where Angeline was from.”
Annie stood up. “You two had better hurry if you’re going to get to the bank before it closes.”
“We two?” Alice put her hands on her hips. “And just where are you off to?”
“You can drop me off at the library.” Annie grabbed her purse. “We’ll meet up at The Cup & Saucer when you’re finished at the bank.”
19
Less than half an hour later, Annie hurried into The Cup & Saucer and slid into the booth next to Alice.
“Did you two get everything taken care of?”
Mary Beth nodded. “I’ll be able to sleep tonight, and
I know I wouldn’t have with all that …” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “… with all that jewelry. It’s all locked up in the bank until I can get it appraised and figure out what to do next. I don’t guess the whole town needs to know about it.”
Alice laughed. “They’ll know soon enough, I suppose. What about you, Annie? You look like you’re about to burst.”
Annie wanted to bounce up and down in her seat. “I’m so excited, I probably look like some kind of mental case at this point. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, though.”
“What?” Alice and Mary Beth asked at the same time, and then both of them laughed.
Annie couldn’t help joining them. “I told you awhile ago that I looked up your great-great-grandparent’s marriage in the Fairfax County, Virginia, marriage records. I looked at the same time to see if Geoffrey Whyte had married anyone before he died. Elopements, especially in wartime, aren’t uncommon.”
Mary Beth caught her breath. “And?”
“Nothing. Not at the time.”
“Not at the time?” Alice repeated, narrowing her eyes.
“Then Mary Beth mentioned that back then her family, including Angeline, was from Clarke County, not Fairfax County. If she and Geoffrey did elope, especially if he wanted to keep it secret from his controlling mother, of course they wouldn’t get married in his home county. What would be more natural than for them to marry in Angeline’s?” Annie put the print out on the table in front of Mary Beth. “They were married on March 6, 1861, in Berryville, Virginia, in Clarke County.”
“That’s wonderful!” Alice exclaimed, her eyes alight.
Mary Beth stared at the page, blank-faced, not saying anything.
“They were married, Mary Beth.” Annie reached across the table and shook her friend by the forearm. “They were married. Even if she didn’t know it was there, everything Geoffrey had would have been legally hers once he died. That means it’s yours. It’s all yours!” She glanced around with a self-conscious giggle and then lowered her voice. “There will probably be some legal considerations, maybe some taxes.”
The Key in the Attic Page 15