“Sit back down,” Tommy ordered in a kind tone. “Just take it easy.”
Sean shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He looked around and took in their surroundings again. He switched on his phone light and scanned the room, shining the light back and forth before stopping on the skeletal remains in the coffin.
Adriana looked at him, puzzled. “What are you looking for?”
Sean leaned into the stone box and began patting down the dead man’s tattered clothing. “Anything we might have missed. The coin isn’t necessarily the clue to the next location. It’s possible that the coins are simply the markers or the beacons.”
The other two thought about his logic for a moment and then circled around to the other side to assist with the search.
Tommy hesitated for a second, staring down at the corpse. “Sorry to disturb your rest,” he said reverently.
The comment caused Sean to pause for a moment as well. He gave a quick nod, and the three began checking pockets and inner compartments of Stuart’s uniform. Sean carefully moved the hands away from the torso and pulled the left breast of the red coat back, but there was nothing inside.
Adriana gently removed the man’s hat and checked the inside. She stuck her hand into the headpiece, her fingers tripping across something unusual. She grabbed the object and pulled it out. “I’ve got something,” she announced, causing the two men to stop their search in its tracks.
All three lights redirected to the object in Adriana’s hand. Their wide eyes stared at it in disbelief. Whatever she was holding had been wrapped in cowhide like a Christmas present and tied with a bow made of hemp. The rectangular object within was only about eight inches long and maybe six wide.
Adriana set the piece down and carefully untied the knot. The string nearly fell apart in her hands, but she was able to get it undone. Next, she pulled back the folds of the dried-out leather, one section at a time, to see what was inside. Each person in the room held their breath in anticipation.
When her delicate fingers had finished unwrapping the cowhide, the curiosity factor increased by a factor of ten.
Tommy swallowed hard. “Do me a favor, and give me that,” he said, taking off his jacket. “We don’t want our fingers to damage it.”
She nodded slowly as Tommy held his coat across both hands to provide a makeshift hammock.
Adriana ever so carefully placed the object into the cradle Tommy had created. The three Americans continued to stare at what she’d found.
The pale glow of the LED lights revealed a book that appeared to be several hundred years old. The edges of the pages had browned over time, and were brittle to the touch. The tanned cover, made from a leathery substance that Sean assumed was calfskin, displayed a few faded words on its surface. The companions arched their backs, hunching over the sarcophagus to try to get a better view of what the lettering spelled out.
Sean hovered over the cover with his light for a few more seconds before he read the title of the book out loud. “Hamlet by William Shakespeare.”
“Why?” Tommy asked. “Why would he have a copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet buried with him?”
Sean tipped his head to the side and then straightened. “Why was Frank Sinatra buried with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s? Because it was his favorite.”
“Good point.” Tommy sighed, though he wasn’t convinced that was all there was to the story. He knew Sean wasn’t either.
Adriana continued to stare at the book. She’d been silent, deep in thought about it for the last minute or two. Now she spoke up. “It most certainly has more to it than that. Remember what we learned about Holger Danske?” She didn’t wait for the men to answer. “He was from Denmark. And there is a statue of him in the basement of the Kronborg Slot in the town of Helsingor.”
Sean started to connect the dots. His face lit up at the realization. “Right. That castle was the setting for Shakespeare’s Hamlet.”
“Exactly,” she emphasized the answer with a point of her index finger.
Tommy began gently rewrapping the book in its protective leather casing. “We need to get this book back to the kids at the lab and let them analyze it. I don’t think it would be wise to open it here with all the moisture. There could be another clue inside, but it’s not worth the risk of damaging it.”
“Agreed,” Sean said. “As much as I’d love to go straight to Denmark from here, we don’t need to get ahead of ourselves.” He rose back up and winced again at the pain in his chest.
“You probably need to see a doctor,” Adriana advised, putting her arm on his shoulder in a caring manner.
“She’s right,” Tommy said. “You could have a broken rib or something.”
Tommy’s depth of knowledge of history was unrivaled. He knew more about the ancient world than anyone Sean knew. His medical wisdom, however, was quite the opposite. Sean looked back to a moment from college when Tommy thought he was going to die. He’d been hit on the ear with a baseball, and the ear was bleeding from a cut on the lobe. Tommy panicked, thinking that the blood was coming from inside his ear and requested to be rushed to the hospital.
The doctor said he was fine and that he might experience a little ringing for a day or two, but there was nothing life threatening.
Sean decided not to bring that story up, instead blowing off the dull pulsing from his ribcage. “I’ll be fine. When we get back to the States, I’ll have someone take a look at it.” Then his attention went to the door. “Right now, we need to focus on getting out of here.”
He stepped over to the entrance and shone his light on the crack between the two doors. It was nearly completely sealed, barely revealing any daylight from the other side. He listened closely and heard the sound of footsteps skidding to a stop.
There was a momentary pause before something heavy tapped on the door. “Sean? Are you guys in there?” Jim’s accented voice echoed in the tiny stone chamber.
Sean could tell their driver was trying to be subtle. If anyone saw him talking to a crypt, they might start to wonder. The idea nearly made him laugh. “Yeah, we’re in here. Can you break the lock?”
The doors shuddered for a few seconds. Jim was clearly grasping the lock and jerking it back and forth. “We’ll probably need a bolt cutter,” he said finally. “I don’t think I can get it open. I’m assuming you don’t want me to find the cemetery manager and get them to open it.”
“We would definitely like to avoid that if at all possible,” Sean said, grinning in the dark.
“Okay. There’s a hardware store up the street. Stay here, and I’ll go get something to cut that lock off.”
“All right,” Sean said sarcastically. “We’ll stay put.”
Jim didn’t respond for a moment, realizing the hilarity of what he’d said. “Right. Sorry about that. I’ll be right back.”
The footsteps tracked away from the crypt’s alcove and faded away.
Sean walked back over to the side of the stone box and stared into his friends’ faces. He motioned with his head toward the entrance. “He’ll be back in a minute.”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Nothing like hanging out in a crypt with a dead person for a half hour.”
While they waited on Jim to return, Tommy contacted the IAA pilot and requested that he file a flight plan to return to Atlanta in the next three to four hours. The man acknowledged the request and ended the call.
Twenty-eight minutes after he left, Jim rapped on the crypt’s wooden doors.
Sean and the others rushed over to the entrance. “We’re still here,” Sean said cynically.
“Right,” Jim responded, ignoring the humorous comment. “I got the bolt cutter. Just give me a minute, and I’ll have you out of there.”