“You think the doubloon comes from a lost civilization?” Stone removed the coin from his pocket and laid it on the kitchen table. He should have thought of it himself, but Trinity was the one person who had always been able to tie his mind into knots, and her sudden, unexpected appearance had him all out of kilter.
“Comes from… Depicts a legend of… Who knows? But it’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps.” Stone drained his coffee cup and waved away Alex’s offer of a refill. Had his grandfather been trying to send him a message with the gift of the book? It was certainly possible. “We should search his papers. Perhaps there’s something there.”
They headed to the study, where Stone searched through the contents of his grandfather’s desk while Alex examined the books on the shelves. Next, they checked the writing desk in the sitting room, and even the drawers in the kitchen, but found nothing. Finally, they searched the master bedroom, also without success.
“This is wrong.” Stone voiced the thought that had plagued him since he’d left the study.
“What do you mean?” Alex dropped heavily onto the side of the bed.
“Think back. What do you remember about my grandfather?”
“Not much. It seemed like he always had his nose in a book, or was writing in his journal.”
“Exactly. He wrote in that journal every day, sometimes several times a day. He must have filled, I don’t know, two or three journal books a year.”
“So?”
“Where are they?” Stone raised his arms. “For that matter, where are the rest his books? The shelves in the study can’t possibly hold even a tenth of his library.”
“You think the study is a facade?” Alex scratched his chin.
“Exactly. I think his true study is hidden somewhere.”
Just then, someone knocked, and then a voice called out. “Mister Brock… I mean, Stone, are you here?”
“We’re in the master bedroom, Moses. Come on back.”
Moments later, Moses’ muscular form appeared in the doorway. “I seen the light was on and thought I’d check with you to ask if they’s anything in particular you want me to attend to today.”
“Actually, we could use your help. What were my grandfather’s daily activities like?”
Moses considered the question. “Mostly reading and writing. He’d take a little sunshine of the morning, maybe stroll down the lane.” He paused. “Can’t really say what he did all day long. He disappeared for hours at a time most every day. Wouldn’t see him until evening.”
“Where did he go?” Stone asked.
Moses shrugged. “I always reckoned he was napping, but sometimes I’d be working outside and I’d notice his bedroom was empty.”
Stone and Alex exchanged glances. It fit.
“Did he ever go into any of the outbuildings?” Alex asked. “The carriage house, perhaps?”
Moses shook his head.
“Moses, have you ever seen anything that looked like a secret doorway anywhere in the house or on the property?” Stone’s heart raced. He knew he was on the right track. He just needed a clue.
Moses slowly shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”
Stone sighed. His copy of The Lost World lay on the bedside table. He picked it up and thumbed through it. “What’s your secret, Grandfather?” he muttered. Discouraged, he tossed the book back onto the table.
And froze.
“What is it?” A look of concern marred Alex’s face.
“I just remembered something the attorney told me. Grandfather specifically instructed me to sit in the window seat and read this book one last time.”
“So?”
Stone moved to the window seat and settled in at an angle with his legs hanging over the edge, just like he’d always sat as a child when his grandfather read to him. He no longer fit well, but its purpose was served when he saw what lay directly in his line of sight.
“Look at that painting.” He pointed across the room.
Alex turned around and his jaw dropped.
“It’s the same as what’s on the cover of that book,” Moses marveled.
“You don’t think…” Alex began.
“Yes I do.” The painting, a good six feet tall and three feet wide, depicted a plateau rising above a dense jungle, and nearly reached the ceiling. “It’s like the plateau described in The Lost World. And this painting is more than large enough to hide a doorway.”
The three of them moved in lockstep. When they reached the painting, Stone took hold of the frame and pulled. It resisted, then with an audible click, swung forward, revealing a stout wooden door.
Stone smiled. “This is it.”
6- The Room
A cool, damp breeze wafted out of the dark doorway, carrying with it a hint of mildew. Stone ran his hand along the rough stone wall, feeling all of its imperfections. He wondered what, exactly, they had stumbled onto.
“Now this is an interesting development.” Alex took a box of matches out of his pocket, struck one on the crumbling mortar between two stone blocks, and held it up. Flecks of mica in the granite wall sparkled in the flickering light, illuminating a staircase that spiraled down into the darkness. A few cobwebs clung to the ceiling. A narrow path ran through the dust on the stairs.
“I guess we know where Grandfather was going. Shall we?” Stone looked at Alex and Moses.
“How about I stay up here and keep an eye on things?” Moses asked. “Just in case whoever sent that man last night sends somebody else.”
“Thank you.” Stone retrieved an antique oil lamp from a shelf in his grandfather's study, lit it, and descended the steps. Winding down into the darkness, he wondered at the secret his grandfather kept hidden. Had Stone not disappeared when he had, would his grandfather have shared this place with Stone while he still lived?
“I wonder how far down it goes,” Alex whispered. “We must have gone a good twenty feet already.”
“Considering the age of the house, it’s an impressive feat to build something so far below ground. Makes you wonder what the purpose was.” Stone brushed cobwebs out of his face and kept going.
“It’s far too old to have been a part of the underground railroad.” Alex fell silent and paused. He stood there, stroking his chin. His gaze seemed to drift beyond their surroundings and his eyes grew misty. Finally, he shook his head. “I’m afraid I am fresh out of ideas.”
“And we’re fresh out of stairs. Look here.” Stone halted in front of a metal door. He tried the handle and was pleased to find it unlocked. As he pushed it open, he sensed a large space on the other side. Holding his lamp out in front of him, he stepped through.
He was in an oval room that appeared to be hewn from the natural rock. The floor was perfectly smooth, and shelves and cubbyholes filled with books and other objects lined the walls, running back into the darkness beyond the circle of lamplight. Up above, soot, likely from fires centuries ago, stained the ceiling.
“It’s a cave,” Alex marveled.
“But it’s much more than that now.” Stone noticed a handle on the wall and raised it. With a heavy click, it slid into place, and a faint humming from an invisible generator filled the room as a series of electric lights slowly came to life. Bit by bit, the cavern revealed itself.
The place was much more expansive than Stone could have imagined. It was at least a hundred feet long and filled with his grandfather’s treasures: books, weapons, artwork, and artifacts accumulated over a lifetime. At the far end, he could just make out several tables covered with pipes, tubes, and glass. A laboratory!
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” As if in a trance, Alex made for the lab.
Stone headed for a large wooden desk set dead-center in the middle of the room beneath an ornate chandelier. On the way, he took note of some of the relics his grandfather had collected. There were items from all over the world and from every major culture. How had he acquired them all without anyone knowing?