"Well, well, well," he began, "I suppose I should start by saying that I'm impressed — although, of course, I don't know for certain who I'm speaking to. I'm fairly sure that at least Charles will be seeing this film — I doubt Matthew would have been able to follow the trail on his own."
Matthew squirmed in his seat.
"So, if he is there, the two of you must have teamed up. That would be a rather mature thing to do, wouldn't it? Well, maybe there's hope for you after all." He paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile and continued.
"Anyway, it would seem that you managed to solve my little sphinx puzzle. Well done. Did you know, according to mythology, the sphinx was a creature that would set riddles for unwary travellers and then strangle them if they couldn't give the correct answer? Somehow that seems to be rather apt, wouldn't you say? And what did you think of my cryptic lines? Even though I do say so myself, I found them to be quite ingenious in the circumstances."
He paused again, seeming to consider his next words carefully.
"And, if you'll listen to my advice, there are still one or two more clues to be unearthed within them."
He gave a little chuckle that might have been a sneer.
"Shall I tell you a secret? For once in my miserable life I'm actually starting to enjoy myself. I hope you're having as much fun as I am."
"You don't know the half of it," grumbled Matthew.
"Now then," Lord Alfred cleared his throat. "I have another little clue which I'm sure will interest you. Pay attention, class; here it comes."
And, with that, he began to recite a second piece of verse:
If the reading of the first poem had been in the style of Gielgud, this second performance was definitely an Olivier. There could be no denying that he did bring a true quality to his delivery. Appearing to read the minds of his audience, he sighed and said, "Did you like that? Maybe I should have been a thespian. Incidentally," he added, "in creating this little treasure hunt for you, I thought it might be rather nice to take the opportunity to indulge not only my great love of poetry but also my love of painting too. I hope that meets with your approval?" He raised an eyebrow as if expecting to hear a response.
"Well, I think that should give you what you need for the next stage and it brings us all up to date once more. Do enjoy the game — joy in the journey, that's what it's all about."
He stood up and made as if to leave, but then suddenly looked back into the camera and said, "But don't forget, time is of the essence. I am sure my friends down at the Society of West End Theatre would be only too happy if you did not manage to solve this quaint conundrum sufficiently quickly."
He cackled, mischievously.
"Well, I must be going now. As one of my old teachers used to say, 'Onwards and downwards.' Farewell."
He walked away from the desk and, as before, disappeared from the left side of the screen. A moment later the film ended, and both men sat quietly in the dark, trying to absorb the significance of what they had just heard.
"The fact that both films start and end with His Lordship out of range of the camera would suggest that he was alone when he did the filming," said Charles. "He probably started and stopped the camera himself."
"So what if he did?" asked Matthew.
"Nothing. Just an observation."
Matthew looked over to the imposing grandfather clock which stood against the wall as though it were on sentry duty. It was almost midnight.
"Well," he said, "I'm too exhausted to give this any thought now; let's get some sleep."
"Good idea," Charles replied. "Then hopefully we'll be able to make a fresh start with this new clue in the morning."
With the storm so far showing no sign of abating, the two men walked out of the library and headed for their respective rooms.
Chapter 13
Charles closed his bedroom door and leaned his head back against it. He realised that in the last few days he had used up a huge amount of nervous mental energy, not to mention the physical exertion of walking for miles all over the house and creeping around in those underground catacombs, and it was starting to catch up with him. He was no longer quite the spring chicken he used to be and the sudden feeling of fatigue that descended upon him caused him almost to go straight to sleep on the bed just as he was, fully clothed.
Somehow, though, he managed to get himself ready for bed properly. A minute later, as he slid between the crisp, clean sheets he knew he had made the right choice. Just one minute more and he was fast asleep and dreaming. But it was a restless slumber at first: all kinds of pictures flew through his mind… the stark shape of Heston Grange illumined by sudden flashes of lightning… dark corridors and secret passageways… delicious dinners in front of roaring fires… and the faces… faces blurring and merging and re-emerging as other faces… Lord Alfred… James… Matthew… Mrs Gillcarey… Meg… and even his ex-fiance put in an appearance, suddenly transforming into a sphinx, laughing hysterically on a swaying rickety bridge. Gradually, the images faded and, as he tossed and turned beneath his luxurious blankets, Charles moved, little by little, into a deeper and sounder sleep.
Some distance away, Matthew stood in his room also contemplating his bed. Despite his tiredness, though, he was deep in thought. He recalled the terms of this ludicrous contest as set out by his father in the first film:
"There's nothing in this game for coming second. The winner takes all."
What was his father thinking of? Who was this Charles anyway? Only a two-bit solicitor like all the rest. Why should Charles have any claim on the vast fortune that should rightfully pass to him? He sighed and thought about the agreement he had made with Charles. True, it was only a verbal one but it was still an agreement, and Charles was obviously a decent fellow, in his own way. If they continued to work together and managed to solve the riddle they would divide the estate equally. That was what they had agreed — but what if Matthew somehow managed to crack this puzzle alone, and what if he managed to find the sapphire without any further involvement on Charles' part? He felt sure that most of the deduction process was now behind them. The situation, as it stood right now, was that there was this new clue on the cine film… and Charles was sleeping. After thinking for just a moment longer, Matthew reached a decision. Quietly, he eased open his bedroom door, crept out stealthily onto the landing and, while attempting to avoid stepping on any squeaky floorboards, once again entered the labyrinthine network of dark corridors.
He came, at length, into the dining room where the dying embers of the fire were still exuding a dull red glow. Crossing to the fireplace he looked at the high-backed chair where he had been sitting before dinner. The sphinx was still there, just where he had left it. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, once again reading the inscription underneath. Did this model still have any light to shed on the mystery, he wondered. Certainly, in the second film his father had mentioned that the first set of cryptic lines still contained some further clues. He moved over to the large bay window and looked in the direction of the private cemetery, hidden from view by the many wind-blown trees. Something inside told him, despite his earlier search, that there must be some sort of clue to be found out there. Both poems were infused with references to such a place. Surely the sapphire had to be there. Where else could it be? But something else inside also told him that if he was going to explore the cemetery again he would have to do it tonight. Now — while Charles slept on, blissfully unaware. He gazed out into the deeply black night. The rain was fierce, and the strong wind repeatedly lashed the window panes. The creaking of boughs and branches as they swayed back and forth through huge arcs could be clearly heard through the howling gale. Did he really want to venture out… out into that? Would he be able to find anything anyway, in the darkness? And, if he did, could he be absolutely sure that he would not be spotted?