Solomon Key

Chapter 22

“The door is just over here.” Timothy pointed to the small door Maddock had seen from high above. Set low in the wall just beyond the spot where the Book of Remembrance sat in a glass case. It was round like a portal, and appeared to be scarcely wide enough for Maddock to fit into.

“You said workers uncovered this?” Maddock said. “How could it go unnoticed?”

“It was covered with a thin layer of plaster and painted over. Not sure why it was hidden.”

Maddock nodded. “I guess I’ll be the one to check it out.” He aimed a pointed look at Bones. “Somebody’s been eating too many burgers to ever fit in there.”

“Maddock, if we weren’t inside a church I’d tell you exactly which part of my body won’t fit in that hole.”

Timothy’s cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink. “Goodness, the two of you pull no punches, do you?”

“Not usually.” Maddock looked around. “How about the two of you screen me from view and then close the door behind me? Once I’m in, you can wander around. That way we don’t draw unwanted attention.” Without waiting for them to agree, he took out his Maglite, clenched it in his teeth, opened the door, and crawled inside. When the door closed behind him, he clicked on the light.

He was in a tiny passageway about three feet square. Cracked brick and crumbling mortar surrounded him on all sides. He resisted the temptation to reach up and test the ceiling. Probably best to search the area and get back out as quickly as possible.

He crawled forward, occasionally banging his knee on the hard, uneven surface. He kept his eyes peeled, scanning every inch of floor, walls, and ceiling as he moved forward. Nothing caught his eye.

He rounded a corner and crawled another ten feet to where the passage came to a dead end. Set in the brick wall was a hinged iron square. He took out his knife and scraped away the dirt and debris that caked it until he uncovered a small latch. He slid it to the side and swung the little doorway open. Peering through, he saw that it opened into an empty fireplace inside what was obviously an office. Disappointed, he quietly closed the small door and turned around.

“There’s got to be something here,” he whispered. He couldn’t believe he was trusting in a ghost story, but he knew in his gut there was a find to be made here. But where?

He turned his light up to the ceiling and played it back and forth, examining every inch. And then he saw it. Just short of the spot where the passageway made a hard left, a section of brick had been covered over. He remembered what Timothy had said about the hidden door. It was covered with a thin layer of plaster.

“Two times lucky?” he said hopefully as he began chipping away with his knife. He was rewarded immediately as his blade broke through the plaster and into an open space up above.

He turned his head away from the falling chunks of plaster, the swirling dust burning his eyes and nostrils. When the dust had cleared, he hastily cleared away an opening wide enough for him to fit his shoulders through.

The open space above was sufficient for him to stand. Directly in front of him was a stone shelf coated in dust. And on that shelf lay the skeletal remains of a man in colonial garb.

His heart raced. Could it be?

Maddock reached out and brushed aside a layer of the dust. His fingers ran across deep grooves. He leaned in for a closer look, wiping away the dust until he could see that there were words carved there. He let out a half of breath, raising the cloud of dust. When it cleared he could read the words.

Israel hands! Maddock had found him. His eyes drifted to the skeleton’s left hand. Something was wrong. He saw it immediately. The ring finger was missing.

“Damn!” Someone had gotten here first. He gave the skeleton a thorough inspection just to be safe but to no avail. The ring, if it had ever been there, was gone. And then he noticed something else — words scratched roughly into the dark stone just next to where the hand lay. He trained his light on the spot.

“HRH. H Rider Haggard. It’s got to be”

So he had been right about Haggard. The problem was, Haggard had gotten there first.

“Maddock, you won the battle but you’re still losing the war.” Disappointed, he made his way back to the door. He hoped there were no witnesses around, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He listened for a moment, heard no sounds, and pushed the door open an inch. No one seemed to be about. Hastily, he crawled out, stood and brushed the dust from his clothing. He froze when he felt the barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of his neck.

“Remain very still and no one will get hurt.”