The Lost Treasure Map Series (14 page)

However, he
knew that their hopes of finding it there were little.

For a long
time, Merton and Mortimer went from tomb to tomb, and he did
likewise – continuing to read them – until it was obvious that they
had everything there.

Merton
eventually lit a cigarette.

Bryson lifted
his bag from the ground, noticing that dirt was beneath it.

“
If the
others thought that they all were the last of something,” Merton
theorized, “it could be in any of the tombs.”

“
That’s
a good point,” Mortimer moaned. “That writing on the tomb could
just refer to it. Or it could be something to put people off. Was
your uncle as
crafty
as
that?”

“
He
might have been – I do not know. He had been a ruthless
businessman, who made a fortune. But he seemed to like games –
hiding his money like he did ...”

“
How
obsessed was he at doing it though?” Merton asked.

“
That’s
what I want to know.”

“
So
let’s assume that it is in one of the other
tombs
,
” Merton
continued. “What one would it be?”

“
I don’t
think it’s in any of them.“

“
None of
the others do either,” Mortimer replied sincerely.

Bryson tapped
the floor with his sole, almost putting a grin on his face. It was
absurd! Who would want to bury it in a burial site?

He ignored it,
and walked about, feeling restless.

Pieces of
material had fallen to the ground from veils that had been at the
sides of the walls. The place had a morbid look.

“
It
might have been your uncle,” Mortimer muttered, “who thought that
your ancestors in the vault had been the last of
something.”

Chapter 31

The Intruder

Bryson stamped hard, with his sole,
into the vault floor
–
listening for any variations in tone, and
for any hollow regions.

Even as he walked to new spots, he continued
listening and feeling for any movements.

Yet if it were buried below, it could be
drenched in water. And he was sure that Sir Richard would have had
to have found a place above the ground.

He banged and tapped parts of the wall, as
he walked around it.

They could be there all day searching,
for nothing. It was no use
–
it was not there!
–
and he was growing
tired.

“
Let
’s
take the information and
go,
”
he
finally announced, annoyed.
“
We
’re
wasting time! We can find out what that
tomb meant elsewhere.
”

Merton and Mortimer instantly agreed, and
they speedily followed him up the stairs, while he still
instinctively listened for anything beneath his feet.

The bright warm sun was glorious, and the
building was dull and gloomy.

Mortimer strangely never rushed on, and
seemed to have reached a conclusion. He was leaving with what he
had wished to know.

They were just content to walk in the warm
sunshine.

Sparrows flew about the trees, about them,
knocking the snow down, making Bryson consider why there were so
few. He had been taking it for granted that it was the freezing
conditions, altered winter landscape, expelling the wildlife.

The last time that he had been there, it had
been at a different time of year, and he recalled that there had
only been crows about the wood.

The place would make a good golf course: if
they removed most of the trees ...

“
What
’s
that ...?
”
Merton revealed, wandering into the
nearest trees.
“
Someone
’s
...!
”

“
They
’re
fresh
footprints!
”
Mortimer exclaimed, arriving there before Bryson.

Bryson crouched near them, and measured
their size.

“
They look the same as the prints that
we followed from the castle,
”
Merton declared.

“
That killer could be out here
...!
”

“
And I
’ll
bet that they were not there when
we came here,
”
Mortimer remarked.

“
Let
’s
follow them!
”

They trailed away into the undergrowth, in
roughly the same direction as the castle.

“
Where do you think he
is?
”
Merton
asked suddenly.

“
Somewhere over
there,
”
Mortimer said, pointing at a slight angle to the
castle.

“
He
’s
gone outwards ...
”

“
He must have seen our prints, and
decided not to go across the path
–
to avoid leaving a
trail.
”

What sort of person would have done the
murder, which had been in all the newspapers (with accounts of the
police investigations), and coolly appear after it?

Was the killer unsatisfied with what he had
done?

He must be desperate to do something, or not
that good. If the police had found those prints that night, they
might have caught him.

The person could be insane though!

Yet how had he hidden?

He must be watching the place!

Had he killed Sir Richard? It was possible,
of course, and he could be doing it because Sir Richard had done
something. As a ruthless businessman, he might have made many
enemies over the years.

There had to be a good explanation for
it!

Perhaps the police could watch the wood, and
as soon as he did something, they could capture him.

“
Let
’s
fetch the
police!
”
he
announced, stopping, not considering their plan any longer.
“
He must be
heading for the castle! And he
’s
already killed someone.
”

“
We may be able to find him this
time,
”
Merton instantly replied.

“
He
’s
right,
”
Mortimer agreed.
“
We
’ll
need help.
”

“
The police may be able to surround
the area
–
before he gets a chance to escape.
”

Merton suddenly realized how serious
the situation was.
“
Let
’s
go ...!
”

Bryson took the lead, and marched through
the snow, going straight to the castle.

He could have kicked himself for not having
a mobile phone. They could easily have contacted the castle.

He was beginning to feel tired again. And
the bottom of his stomach felt heavy.

He was sure that the last time that
Inspector Bailey had not been fully convinced that it had been
him
–
even
though they had been still carrying out investigations at the
village.

None of them had realized that he was
roaming the grounds.

The police should have been doing what
they had made out they had been going to do
–
and had men watching the
woods as well.

The view of the castle, finally emerging
through the trees, was a very welcome sight.

When they approached it, he immediately
realized that he would be in the surrounding wood watching the
castle, and would be watching them go in. And it would be necessary
not to show that they knew of his presence.

He wondered if they could have handled the
stranger in the wood, if they had confronted him.

Even though he had strangled his victim, of
an elderly servant, he could have a weapon, to make sure that he
succeeded with what he was doing.

Bryson started to slow, as they left the
trees.

There were no signs of anything, and the
crows were not there.

Once they were in the castle, he raced
through the corridor, wondering why nobody still ever locked the
door, where he had sneaked into the castle.

The others were hardly content with the
front door being locked, stopping almost anything entering.

Merton then led them straight to Inspector
Bailey, knowing exactly where he would be.

Chapter 32

Escalating
Irregularities

The police superintendent had only been in
the front hallway for less than five minutes, and already Bryson
had learned more of Inspector Bailey than he had learned of him
over the whole time that he had known him.

Inspector Bailey was, of course, his best
man, and favorite, and put there to handle the job bestowed upon
them. If anyone could solve the crime, it was he.

“
This means a lot to
me,
”
the
Superintendent warned, as if fighting to stay calm
–
under intense
pressure.

Inspector Bailey mechanically
pleaded:
“
As I
’ve
suggested in my report: this is not a
routine case.
”

“
This was why we chose you to handle
it!
”

He turned about, like an army officer, and
marched through the doorway, without wasting any more time, almost
glancing at Bryson.

It had to have been important for him to be
visiting the castle, with no other intention than to encourage
Inspector Bailey to do his job (even though he might have gained an
insight into what sorts of problems he had).

Bryson now believed that he had missed
things. It left him with deep feelings that they had hidden
important information
–
only known to them.

Inspector Bailey now appeared
overenthusiastic to get to the bottom of the mystery, barely
stopping himself
–
with his mind continuing to delve over and
over into what he had encountered
–
trying recognize some minute
fragment
–
in need of anything that could progress things, and stop him
being suppressed.

Why had the case been so important and
interesting though? And why did they have such fierce intentions of
solving the murder of Molly? Surely they had a murder on their
patch every so often.

Yet had something put them in fear of losing
their jobs? There had been more than the usual suggestions in the
newspapers that the government wanted them to reduce the crime
figures dramatically.

Merton wandered out of the dining
room, chewing hungrily at the last morsel of his meal.
“
So
what
’s
happening now?
”

“
It wasn
’t
the killer,
”
Bryson answered firmly,
referring in the general direction of Inspector Bailey, further
along the hallway
–
still absorbed in his thoughts
–
not noticing
that he was standing himself, staring at an empty wall.

Bryson now knew that the case was not the
only thing that he had troubles trying to solve, and he was sure
that he might have an illness, such as cancer.

“
What did they do?
”

“
They surrounded the estate, and
followed the prints ... He was caught by their police dogs
...
”

“
So who was he?
”

“
They
’ve
not said.
”

Inspector Bailey suddenly became aware of
the world about him, and casually strolled in their direction,
looking at a form that he had hidden away. He seemingly realized
the conclusion to something, or more than likely put it aside for
consideration, for another try.

“
Who was it?
”
Mortimer remarked, trying to
capture his attention, as he rushed out of the dining room,
balancing a glass of wine
–
not rocking it enough to spill any on the
expensive carpet, which seemed to be the only thing that was not
ancient.

“
Try and guess!
”
Inspector Bailey moaned,
slightly amused at his antics.

“
One of the locals
...
”

“
Your wrong! It was a
reporter.
”

“
We were following a
reporter!
”
Merton gasped, slightly taken aback.

“
That explains a great
deal,
”
Bryson uttered, wondering if Inspector Bailey would ever
again take their word for anything.

“
It would explain why he
hid,
”
Mortimer explained.
“
And why he never crossed over where we had
walked through the wood.
”