Hide-and-Seek
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“We looked everywhere,” I said to Jared. “I believe there was no stone left unturned in the search for my little brother.”
“Right,” Jared said and chewed on his upper lip.
The pause was getting a bit too long and the silence was calling either for another round or for the meeting to be adjourned.
“Well, thank you for giving the shirt back,” I said finally.
“You bet.” Jared stood up and pressed a few buttons on his phone.
I also stood up and felt that I’d had just about the right amount of alcohol. I waved to Hugh to come and give us the check. He understood me but gestured that there was no need.
“Don’t worry about that,” Jared said. “My treat.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Jared waved to Hugh, and we walked out of the bar. It was chilly, but I found it refreshing and congratulated myself for wearing the jacket. Jared’s car, a big black SUV, was parked right outside and Freddy was standing near it, ready to open the passenger door.
“Do you need a ride?” Jared asked. “Freddy will take you anywhere you want.”
I felt that I’d had enough of Jared and his people for one evening. “I’m good.”
“Cool,” Jared said and turned to Freddy. “I’ll walk to the office, Freddy.”
Freddy nodded, walked around the car, and got in.
“Listen Alex,” Jared started. “I didn’t mean to stir up the past with all those questions back there. I was fascinated with your family once and I guess I got carried away with my nostalgia a bit.”
“No worries,” I said, feeling surprised at this sudden correctness.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll have my people contact you about the proposal in a day or two.”
“Thank you, Jared,” I said and felt that it would be better not to push my luck by asking if I’d got it.
***
I was deep in my thoughts when Harry appeared with my drink on a tray.
“Cheers,” I said taking the drink and getting the first sip. “Wow, how can we possibly still have this in the house, Harry?”
It was The Balvenie, the scotch my family has been buying since the distillery started production all that way back in the nineteenth century. All the males in my family preferred it to any other whiskey. I was sure that we had emptied our cellar when we moved to France.
“I kept a few bottles, just in case, sir,” Harry said.
“Good man.”
Suddenly, I felt at home and at ease enough to take my business a step further.
“So, the foxy is still here, huh?” I asked and pointed to the thing with my index finger because other fingers were busy holding the glass.
“It is, sir,” he said. “Would you like us to put it down in the basement?”
“Nah, keep it here where it belongs,” I said taking a sip. “I say, Harry, do you remember the old pirate chest we kept in the attic?”
“I do, sir. We moved it together with all the other old furniture to the cellars.”
“I’d like to take a look at it if it’s not too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, sir. I’ll have Benny fetch the keys and open the basement for you. Would you like me to accompany you?”
“No need. Benny’ll do just fine. I’ll just finish my drink and meet him in the hall in, say, ten minutes.”
“Very good, sir,” Harry said and left the library thoughtfully leaving the tray with the crystal whiskey pitcher on the table.
All right. The wheels were in motion, so to speak. I would have one more drink and then I’d be ready to see it. One more drink.
***
We had a big basement under Maple Grove House. It matched all the floor space of the levels above. Since it was carrying the weight of the house, its walls were built to act as a continuation of the foundations, and they were much thicker than the walls above. There were two entries: one from the inside of the house, from the kitchen, and one from the backyard. Both entries led to passageways with storage spaces, wine and whiskey cellars, and pantries on both sides. The basement had one secret exit that was disguised as a dead-end, next to the farthest cellar, which led into the escape tunnel. Ezekiel Montague included that in the design of the house in case he had to flee the property. The exit was hidden in a maple grove about fifty meters away from the house. That gave us, the descendants, an idea that he had still had a few skeletons in his closet that’d been bothering him. Over the years, the tunnel proved to be an extremely helpful addition for those who knew where the exit (or entrance) was and wanted to get into the house unnoticed. Those were mostly male members of the family returning from some debauchery late at night. In fact, it started to get so out of hand that at some point my great grandfather ordered it sealed. After that, no one used the tunnel much. “No one” who didn’t want to be seen using it, that is. The basement was off limits to us when we were kids, but we managed to sneak in from time to time, with the staff who were down there getting groceries from pantries, fetching old and dusty wine bottles for a party from wine cellars or moving some ancient stuff around from one area of storage to another.
I was following Benny through the kitchen to the basement door and my heart started to beat faster. I tried not to think what I might see down there, but I was determined to get this crazy thing over with as soon as possible.
“How long have you been working here, Benny?” I asked just to fill the silence with some chat.
“Going on twenty-seven years, sir,” he said, opening the door and entering the basement.
“Gosh, has it been that long?” I asked, following him down the stairs.
“Time flies, doesn’t it?”
“It certainly does.”
We passed a couple of storage spaces on the left side and former pantries on the right when Benny turned right around a corner.
“I thought that was the storage.” I pointed to the massive wooden door on the left, farther down the corridor.
“Oh, that’s a wine cellar and we had to lock it up a long time ago because of the rats if I remember correctly. Some of those furry bastards, pardon my language, died in there. The smell was unbearable. We threw some chemicals in and sealed the door,” Benny said. “I don’t reckon we’ve opened it ever since.”
One of the footmen had explained to me at the time which storage area they had put the chest in, and I had made one attempt to get to it after it was moved down here to get my stuff out, but they told me to wait until the rodent problem got resolved. Later, we were too busy searching for Charlie, and I had neither the time nor opportunity to come down here again.
We approached another door, and he opened it with one of the countless keys on the huge ring he was carrying.
“Here we are,” he said. “Let me switch on the light.”