Crown's Vengeance, The (7 page)

“I am not getting up. Leave me alone.”

For a few moments, nothing. This made Parker nervous. When he rolled over, it was just in time to catch a face full of cold water, the shock of which sent him hurtling from the bed.

“What’s the matter with you? That’s freezing cold.”

Erika stood, one hand on a hip, head cocked.

“Oh, you decided to get up? Now go take another shower. There’s a city to explore.”

Parker knew he wouldn’t win this battle, and twenty minutes later they walked outside onto Atlantic Avenue, blue skies overhead. A warm breeze blew through Parker’s wet hair. The headache was gone, replaced by a rumbling in his stomach. The sidewalks were busy, small groups of people out enjoying the summer air. A short walk along the waterfront brought them to a coffee shop filled with tourists and locals alike.

Outside in the sunshine, Erika studied a map on her phone as he devoured his breakfast.

“While you were getting your beauty sleep, I laid out a plan of action. First, we’re going to the Revere House.”

Parker grunted his agreement. May as well get this over with and enjoy the rest of the weekend.

“I called the house, and a tour guide said the big crowds don’t usually come until the weekend. The place should be fairly empty until tomorrow.”

“And exactly what do you propose we do? I have no interest in breaking any laws.”

“All we’re going to do is look,” Erika answered. “If we don’t find anything, we’ll leave. I promise.”

“Why do I not believe you?”

Her lack of response did nothing to ease his mind.

They hopped in a cab, and five minutes later they found themselves outside a two-story, gray, wooden house, notable mainly for its diminutive stature in comparison to surrounding buildings. A single sign above the front door was all that identified the historical landmark.

“Are you sure this place is open? When I told Ben we were coming here he thought it might not open until later in the day.”

Parker didn’t see anyone outside the building. Trees had been planted along the roadway, and warm air rustled the green leaves, bringing with it the promise of a beautiful day.

“Yes, I’m sure. In fact, I think this is ideal.”

He leaned in close, his voice low. “And why is this so ideal?”

“I would prefer to have some privacy inside.”

“You remember when I said I wouldn’t break any laws? I wasn’t kidding.”

“All you’re doing is keeping an eye out for anyone who walks into the room. I’m a history professor with a keen interest in some of the artifacts. We’re two perfectly normal, law-abiding tourists.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Parker couldn’t help but wonder what they might find. If the message Erika had uncovered was correct, the bureau inside might contain a clue regarding Revere’s alleged conspiracy.

“What exactly are you planning to do?”

A glance around ensured no one was listening.

“I think that Revere’s directions are straightforward. The decorative designs, which are shaped like arrows, point to each other. My guess is they’re the triggers for a locking mechanism of some kind, and if we push them closer together, something interesting might happen.”

“You do realize this piece of furniture was built over two centuries ago, don’t you? I doubt any moving pieces will still work. Even if there is a hidden area, it’s probably rusted shut.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we have to.”

With that, Erika turned on a heel and headed toward the museum, her sandals slapping over the red brick sidewalk. She first stopped at a circular kiosk that sold entrance passes. Two stubs in hand, she marched to the diminutive front door. Trailing behind, Parker saw the doorknob turn in her grasp, and the gray boards opened into the museum. When he walked inside, creaking footsteps filled the air.

Directly in front of him was an ancient brick fireplace, inside of which sat a large bronze cauldron, the golden color tinged with a deep green patina. Several hand-carved pieces of wooden furniture surrounded the hearth, each stained a deep brown. A tiny crib sat across from a rocking chair, underneath a row of enormous cast iron pots and pans.

“Everything looks so small.”

“Why are you whispering? We’re the only ones here.”

She was right, but the room carried a sense of history, a weight that was impossible to ignore.

“According to this map, the sitting room is just ahead,” she said, and was off.

Each step echoed like a gunshot in the still room, the boards protesting his weight as he passed. The museum was designed to control their movements, with each room flowing to the next, a single path forward. Through a low-hanging archway that nearly clipped his head, Parker saw a dining table set for two. Placards on the tablecloth informed visitors that each piece had actually been used by the Revere family, handcrafted by the patriarch.

“There it is.”

He followed Erika’s outstretched finger, aimed at the purpose of their visit. A gorgeous bureau constructed of reddish-brown mahogany sat against the far wall. Six drawers comprised the lower half, atop which sat a single cupboard framed by open shelves on both sides. Each of the drawers was adorned with two V-shaped designs on either end, the tips of which pointed to a handle midway between them. The lines that composed each triangular piece were accented with silver.

Parker glanced behind them, though he’d have to be deaf to miss any footsteps on these cacophonous floors. When he looked back, Erika was already halfway to the bureau.

“Hold on a second. What exactly is your plan?”

Erika didn’t turn around as she spoke.

“To solve the riddle and find whatever Revere left behind. Stop wasting time and get over here.”

Her hands ran over the polished drawers. Perched atop the piece was a typed card that informed Parker the desk had indeed been made in England as a gift for Revere’s wife.

“I can’t move these at all.”

Erika’s arms shook with effort as she attempted to force the triangular designs closer together.

“Don’t do that.” Parker grabbed her hands. “If you break this thing, we’re going to have some explaining to do.”

“I didn’t come all this way just to look at it.”

She ripped her hands free and studied the drawers, nose inches from the wood.

“
Two opposing arrows adorned by my touch, fired together, will reveal the truth.”

Erika ran a finger over the woodwork. “That’s the key. These designs look like arrows, right?”

Parker grunted in agreement.

“Each of these designs is accented with silver, which to my untrained eye looks to be the real stuff. As we all know, Paul Revere was a silversmith.” Her logic was flawless. “So it stands to reason that these are what Revere was referring to in his encrypted letter to Hamilton.”

Parker still wasn’t convinced. “If you’re right, how do we know which drawer he’s talking about? You’ll break those off if you try to force them towards each other.”

Erika responded by reaching into her back pocket and removing a small white tube.

“That’s why I brought this.”

His mouth nearly fell open.

“You have to be kidding. You’re going to use superglue?”

“It should hold for a few hours, until we can get out of here.”

Without waiting for his approval, Erika squatted down and began her search with the top left drawer, shoving the two designs at one another, biceps straining with effort. Parker looked around, expecting a museum attendant to walk through at any moment.

“It won’t move.”

Erika pulled the drawer out, her fist knocking the wooden piece, one ear in close.

“It doesn’t sound hollow. Here, you try and push these together.”

Realizing there was no other choice, Parker knelt down and put one hand on each triangular decoration. Despite his best efforts, the two designs wouldn’t budge.

“These things aren’t going anywhere.”

Erika was already on the third drawer, forehead strained with effort.

“Try the other ones. Your muscles must be good for something.”

He tried the second drawer with similar results. Whoever had installed the decorations had done a fine job. They didn’t move an inch. As Erika was inspecting her fifth drawer, Parker took the fourth one in his hands, which now ached from the exercise. As he struggled to shove the silver-coated triangles together, his hand slipped.

The decoration had torn from the drawer’s surface, ripped cleanly off.

“Shit. I need that glue.”

Erika took the broken piece in her hands, though her attention was focused on the drawer itself.

“Look, you can see where this was nailed on.”

He noted the tiny piece of metal that protruded from the damaged decoration.

“And here, you can see the wood behind this decoration is a single piece,” Erika noted. “There’s no way these things could move.”

Parker didn’t respond, a swell of anger growing inside his chest. He was sweaty, pissed off, and slightly hung over. The last thing he needed was to be caught breaking Paul Revere’s furniture.

“This is a waste of time. Let’s get out of here before an employee calls the cops.”

Erika slid the broken drawer back in, the silver triangle attached once again.

“Stop being a baby. We only have two more.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Erika laid a hand on his forearm, her eyes wide, pleading.

“Please?”

“Fine, but after this, we’re out of here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

The next to last drawer did not yield either, and Parker began to think they’d be on their way. As he slid the fifth drawer back into the bureau, Erika gasped.

“Parker, this one moved.”

He peered at the drawer in her hands.

“Give it to me.”

With the drawer now bathed in sunlight, Parker studied the centuries-old piece. Right away, he saw it. The triangular design had shifted. Years of sun and dirt had dulled the drawer’s polish, but where the silver arrow had been, the wood was bright where it had been protected from the elements.

Erika’s eyes flashed. “Push the triangles together.”

For a moment, the designs held fast, stuck like all the others. Parker redoubled his efforts and was rewarded as the two arrow-shaped decorations jerked closer to each other by several inches.

“Damn, this thing is tough to move. The arrows are stuck.”

She smacked his arm. “Stop making excuses and push harder.”

Her face was alight with anticipation as he squeezed, certain the wood was going to splinter apart in his hands. Just as his arms were about to give out, the arrows shot together with a terrible clatter. The unexpected movement sent the drawer flying from his grasp, and he could only watch as it tumbled to the floor with a tremendous crash.

“We need to get out of here.”

“Not before we see what’s inside.”

There were no visible changes other than the arrows, which now sat inches apart. Erika ran her fingers around the interior, probing the polished wood. “I don’t feel any hinges inside. Those arrows had to have done something.”

With a gentle touch, she lifted the drawer and turned it upside down. On the bottom, a previously invisible panel had retracted to reveal a slender leather pouch, secured to the underside. Before they could speak, the door behind them creaked open.

Chapter 11

An elderly man walked through the door.

“Is everything all right in here?”

Parker said nothing as the man tottered their way, a kind look on his wizened features.

“I’m glad you’re here, sir.” Erika pushed Parker aside, holding the drawer in front of her like a peace offering. “When we came in here, this drawer was sitting on the ground. I almost tripped over it.”

The frail old man ran one hand through a thick shock of snowy white hair atop his wrinkled forehead.

“Where, uh, where did you say you found it?”

“Right here.” She gestured emphatically at the ground. “We were walking through, and oh my, it was just sitting there. I don’t know what to do.” Before the old man could respond, she said, “Oh my goodness, would you look at that. I found where it goes.”

Just as the bespectacled man reached for it, Erika turned around and slid the drawer back into its proper slot.

“It must have fallen out. You can’t be too careful.”

“Yes, I suppose you can’t.”

Bewildered, the old man nodded slowly as he spoke.

“Do you work here?”

Erika flashed a megawatt smile his way. She grabbed Parker’s arm and slid closer to the poor guy, so close they nearly touched the nametag on his chest.

“Yes, I’m the curator.”

“This is just the loveliest place.” Erika didn’t give him a chance to think. “Would you tell us about the house? Is there anything here that Paul Revere actually used?”

Parker nodded as she pinched his arm, an absurd grin plastered across his face. For a few moments, the old guy scratched his head, completely overwhelmed.

“Actually used? Why, yes, there are many items here that date from Revere’s time.”

With one final glance at the bureau, the curator launched into a lengthy description of the home’s contents, pointing out period furnishings and original construction. Nearly an hour later, the trio emerged from the small structure, Parker and Erika waving good-bye to their impromptu tour guide. As soon as the door closed behind them, Parker grabbed Erika’s arm.

“What were you thinking? Now there’s no way we can get back inside the drawer. That guard is going to go back and find the hidden compartment.”

A playful light flashed in her eyes.

“No he won’t, because there’s nothing to find.”

“What do you mean, nothing to find? There was a leather pouch hidden inside the drawer. We both saw it.”

“Do you mean this leather pouch?”

With a flourish, one hand slid down her shirt and removed the container in question. He couldn’t believe it. As he reached for it, she pulled the artifact away.

“Not here, dummy. Let’s get away from this museum before that old guy comes looking for us. If he does go look at the drawer, he’s going to find the hidden compartment.”