Justice

NINETEEN

Twin obelisks flanked the wrought iron gates that barred the entrance to the tomb. Like miniature versions of the famed monument that stood at the center of the National Mall, they shone in the moonlight with an ethereal glow.

Wright paced back and forth, filled with scarcely contained impatience, as Ransom worked at the lock. Nearby, Jamison kept an eye out for security. She was convinced her men could handle whatever came their way, but she preferred they do this without bloodshed.

And then there was the specter of Maddock and Bonebrake, always looming just over the horizon. She was convinced the men had not given up, and regretted not having killed them when she had the chance. She knew better than to play with her food before eating it.

“I’ve got it,” Ransom whispered. He took a moment to spray lubricant on the hinges of the gate before giving it a push. It swung open with barely a hiss, and Wright led the way forward. The tomb lay in a marble vault beneath a brick archway. The entire brick façade of the structure loomed dark and forbidding, a bloody reddish-brown in the faint light. She glanced up at the stone tablet that hung above the archway. A beam of silver moonlight shone on the words engraved there.

A chill ran down her spine. She stood literally feet away from the prize. Inside the crypt lay two marble sarcophagi: the final resting places of Martha and George Washington. And somewhere here, the treasure was hidden.

Ransom opened the gate and held it for Wright to enter first. She felt like a queen taking her throne as she stepped inside. The moment was here.

“Open them up,” she ordered. “Start with Washington. He took the treasure to his grave, so I expect it to be here.”

Ransom winced, but set to work immediately with the aid of his companions. Wright moved back to the arched entrance and gazed up at the moonlight. She would remember this night forever.

“Do you think you can pick this lock, Bones? It’s pretty old.” They stood before a heavy wooden door set in the crumbling, ivy-draped wall of Mount Vernon’s so-called “Old Vault” or “Old Tomb” on the bank of the Potomac River. Maddock had gambled that Wright would not be aware that Washington’s first intended resting place was, in fact, this aged family vault, originally constructed at the behest of his brother, Lawrence Washington.

So far, so good. Knowing that the Sons would likely be covering the roads and gates, they’d come by canoe, keeping close to shore, and then crept uphill through the forest cover until they reached the vault. On the way up, Bones had scouted the New Tomb and spotted the approach of Wright and her men. So it was a race. Could Maddock, Bones, and Sterling find the treasure before Wright and the Sons discovered their mistake and learned of the Old Tomb.

“Seriously, Maddock? You really think that motivates me?” Bones knelt, fished a few tiny implements from his pocket, and set to work.

“What does motivate you, anyway?” Sterling asked.

“The love of a challenge and the joy of making mayhem.” He grinned, his straight white teeth shining in the moonlight, as the door swung open.

“Impressive,” Sterling said. “Products of a misspent youth, I take it?”

“Products of an awesomely fun youth. But I’ll tell you about it later.”

They stepped inside and closed the door behind them, so as not to draw the attention of security. This was actually a low risk, as the minimal roving patrols at Mount Vernon never came by the old tomb. Guards would only pass within a quarter mile of their location two or three times the entire night.

In the course of their research, Maddock had come across the results of a seismological analysis that suggested the existence of half a dozen caves or open spaces beneath the grounds of the Mount Vernon estate. One of these spots lay near the side wall of Washington’s old tomb, providing the obvious place to search for a hidden treasure. He really didn’t have any sense of how far down the open space was, or its size. The survey showed some space, but not anything really defined.

The cool air inside the old crypt smelled of mold. Maddock shone his light around, revealing crumbling brick walls, but no sign of a trapdoor or entrance to a hidden treasure vault.

“Do we do this the slow way or the noisy way?” Bones asked.

“Noisy. Hand me the sledgehammer.” Maddock hefted the heavy tool and gave it a swing. His first blow thudded on stone. Maybe not as loud as he had feared, but still a risk. He put the concern out of his mind and resumed the task at hand. Sterling held a flashlight while Bones kicked away debris after every stroke. Behind the brick wall lay a thick slab of mortar that crumbled and cracked with each stroke, reverberating with hollow thuds that promised open space beyond. Soon he had created a hole three feet across.

Bones poked his head through and shone his light into the opening.

“It looks like an old root cellar. Must have fallen into disuse and been covered over.”

Maddock’s shoulders sagged. “So I was wrong.”

Bones popped his head back out of the hole. “Just messing with you. There’s a shaft with metal rungs leading down. I think we’ve found it.”

Sterling clenched her fists. “Can I shoot him now? Please?”

“Not yet. We’ll need him in a fight.”

Maddock took out his MagLite and peered into the hole. The shaft appeared to be no more than eight feet deep, and below it a short drop to a stone floor. He caught sight of a shape which might have been a body, but he couldn’t be certain. Heart racing, he clambered through the hole in the wall, stepped over to the shaft, and tested the first rung.

Rust pitted its surface, but it didn’t give. Gingerly, hands braced on either side of the shaft, he tried the next rung. It held too. Emboldened, he worked his way down. The iron was like ice beneath his grip, the surface rough. The dank, moldy smell was stronger here, but he scarcely noticed, intoxicated by the thrill of discovery.

When he reached the bottom rung, he dropped down to the floor and swung the light back and forth. A skeleton clad in the remains of colonial garb, a uniform by the look of it, lay sprawled at an awkward angle in one corner. As much as he wanted to stop and examine it, he owed it to Bones and Sterling to call them down. He yelled up to them.

“Bones, send Sterling down, and then come down yourself. If it seems like the rungs won’t support your weight, don’t take the chance. Otherwise all three of us will be stuck here.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Bones asked.

“Yes. Now get down here.”

“Roger that.”

In no time, the three of them stood in the chamber. Looking up at the ceiling, they spotted a wooden trap door in a spot which would have led into the old tomb if actually opened.

Sterling shook her head. “Wow, whoever covered that up did a great job. If you go in the old tomb, there is no sign of the floor being repaired.”

Maddock nodded. “Washington must have completely redone the floor to obscure their real intention. That way no one would stumble onto the treasure.” He shone his light past the skeleton and into the open space beyond. “Speaking of treasure, let’s see what we can find.”