Treasure Sleuth (2 page)

"It's not alone," Mark said as he walked over to his case near the water's edge. "I need to go back in and get under a ledge, there are several items lodged in there."

"Any sign of a coronet," asked the Royal.

"Yes. Yes there is," replied Munro. "But not like you described. This looks a little bigger, more like a crown."

"A crown? How interesting," the Royal said, "Well, don't let us hold you up."

Mark Munro stood up giving out a little groan with the weight of the air tank still on his back, placed his scuba glasses over his eyes and gave a nod, before wading back out into the water, leaving the scoop on the grass. Once deep enough he placed the air compressor back into his mouth and sank under the water.

"My, my, if it is a crown, he could have solved an even bigger mystery," the Royal said, a sparkle in his eyes as he watched the water intensely for any movement.

After just a few minutes Mark was back up, holding his thumb into the air and lifting the metal detector out of the water. Making his way to the muddy banks he put the detector onto the grass and removed his air tank, dropping it off his back onto the ground.

"Yes?" asked the Royal excitedly.

"Yes!" Munro laughed back.

The museum official looking almost in disbelief asked, "The coronet or a crown?"

"Both!" stated Mark.

"Both? Oh how utterly fantastic," said the excited Royal clapping his hands together.

Mark took off his diving belt with the bag attached and handed the Royal a gold band with intricate ornaments and jewels, dripping with water. "Here you go Sir, the coronet you were hoping for."

"Oh how marvelous, brilliant work," the delighted Royal said taking the coronet and holding it up to his eyes.

Mark reached back into the bag. "And you might find this of interest," he said handing a gold crown encrusted with glittering jewels to the museum official.

"Oh bloody hell!" exclaimed the Royal.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," enthused Mr. Mathews. Holding it up into the light and inspecting very closely he muttered, "Could this be..? Could this be the crown of…"

"Owain Glyndwr?" enquired the Royal.

"Yes, could be. Obviously we'll have to run some tests, but yes, yes this could be," said the official.

"May I?" asked the Royal holding out his hand.

"Certainly Sir," said the official handing him the gold crown.

Looking at the details, the Royal turned to Mark "What do you think Munro?"

"It definitely has the weight of a crown that a ruler would wear," Mark replied, pleased with his discovery.

"You realize this has been lost for over five hundred years don't you? Since the fall of Harlech Castle in 1409. This is remarkable," the Royal gasped.

"There is something else you should know. There are the remains of a body down there," Munro stated in a matter of fact tone.

"Remains you say?" asked the official.

"My goodness. Glyndwr himself?" stated the Royal, pursing his lips again.

"It could be I'm afraid Sir. I'm sorry."

"No, no don't be sorry. His final resting place was never found, and this would make sense that the crown would be with him," explained the Royal gratefully. "I just wasn't expecting this today!"

Mark reached into his bag and placed several artifacts in front of the official. Gold brooches, silver dress pins, another smaller silver chalice and a dagger.

"What are those?" asked the Royal, pointing to a selection of bent metal clasps.

"I think they are the inner frame of leather purses Sir," answered Mark. "The leather has long since perished and all that is left is the wire framework. There are several more signals on the ledge and inside what appears to be the beginning or end of a tunnel. If you were to drudge the lake and remove all the water, your museum archeologists would be able to recover the remaining items and coins."

"Oh Munro, you have done it again!" the Royal said holding out his hand for Mark to shake.

"You're welcome Sir, it's been a pleasure."

"You have done me proud. As you'll see Eugene before me please pass on my sincere appreciation, and let him know I'll be in touch once the museum has identified everything."

"Of course Sir, he'll be as over the moon as you, he's sorry he wasn't able to be here in person today."

"Not at all, I wouldn't expect him to be. How is he doing?"

"He's doing better. Well enough to fly anyway so he's gone to see his family as he missed Christmas with them. His visa has all been renewed again so he should be back any day now, and knowing him, this will spur him on for even deeper research."

"Well I'd be pleased if he would join us for dinner again, this time you have made a discovery of such importance, especially for Welsh history."

"Well good luck with that invite Sir," Munro laughed. "It's getting warm again and you know how nothing can drag Gene away from the beaches and his pirate treasure!"

Munro walked over to the edge of the lake and picked up his machine, scoop and case and approached the two men. "Well gentleman, I think this concludes my adventure for the day, I'll leave the final details to the museum."

The Royal turned to the museum official and handed him the gold crown which was placed into a secure pilots case. Shaking his hand he said, "Thank you Mr. Mathews, I'll look forward to reading the report and your conclusions."

"Thank you your Royal Highness, if it wasn't for your curiosity and arranging this project, who knows how many more lifetimes would have gone by."

With that, the Royal turned and made his way back to his car. Mr. Mathews walked back to the visitor car park with Mark who still had the air tank on his back. There was a toot of the horn as the Aston Martin roared by, hood down, and an enthusiastic wave from within. Mark held up his detector and metal scoop in his right hand giving a warriors wave. Wrapping a towel around his waist and pulling off his wetsuit, Mark got himself dressed right there in the car park. Mr. Mathews shook his head in disbelief and carefully placed the pilots case into his car. Turning to Mark he asked, "How did you know?"

"How did I know what? Where the crowns were?"

"Yes, exactly."

"I didn't. It was Eugene Hart. He pretty much laid it all out for me. The metal detector just helped me zone in," explained Mark.

"Well I don't know how he could have possibly worked all this out. It all seems rather suspicious to me that you would turn up here today and head straight for the lake," Mr. Mathews stated.

"Well I don't know exactly how the man conducts his research but he gives it everything he's got. Remember, he was a private eye so the man knows a thing or two about finding things out that others don't want to be found out," Mark said as he pulled up his brown leather boots under his jeans.

"Well, perhaps we should pay Mr. Hart a visit and thank him in person," suggested Mr. Mathews.

Munro smiled as he placed his gear into the trunk of his black Jaguar sports car. Closing the lid, he turned to Mr. Mathews and simply stated, "Just be glad he has a heart and does this for the benefit of others. We'd make a lot more than a finder's fee if we just did this for ourselves and sold it on the black market. And anyway, you won't find him because we don't want you, or anyone else sticking their beaks in. We need to protect the interests of our other clients. I'm sure you'd appreciate us keeping this and the royal factor a secret, won't you?" Munro finished in a matter of fact tone of voice.

"Yes Mark, of course, I wasn't suggesting we'd interfere. Please pass my regards onto Mr. Hart and I wish him a full recovery."

Shaking Mr. Mathews hand, Mark wished him well and reminded him to send a copy of the report to Eugene's mailing address. Mr. Mathews drove towards the gates in his Ford and was met with a police escort.

Mark fired up his Jaguar F-Type coupe, the V8 bursting out a sharp sounding crackle before settling into a rumbling throb. Pulling out onto the main road he floored the throttle and the Jag surged forward in a violent thrust, racing through the fast shifting gears. Catching up the police convoy ahead, Mark eased off the throttle as blue flickers of light flashed over his face. "Well, this makes a change, having blue lights flashing in front of me…" he thought to himself, before turning off and blasting across the Welsh mountains.

Reaching down to his phone, he pressed #1 on the speed- dial and waited for the phone to start ringing.

Eugene's answer phone clicked on so Mark left a message. "Gene! It's Mark, I'm in the cat and she's purring over the Black Mountains, you still not back yet? Well, all I'm going to say is - you were right, more than right. Charlie boy was well happy, Mr. Mathews is his usual self, and I'm knackered… and still damp. I have something for your collection, I don't know if you're asleep or if you're still not back yet but …" - a bleep from his phone told him the signal had been lost and his connection cut mid call.

The mountains were beautiful but they restricted coverage from communication masts. Mark sighed and decided to try again when he was at a higher peak.

Sitting back into the leather seats, Mark enjoyed the rising whine of the engine's supercharger. He always enjoyed a spirited drive and the Jaguar was as comfortable as it was fast. Although, he had to be careful. Getting stopped for speeding didn't bother him too much. But glancing over at the glove box, Mark smiled. It wouldn't help royal relations if the car was searched and the glove box was opened. Mark always liked to keep a memento of his adventures for Eugene. After all, he was a treasure hunter.

For Eugene, a memento made the expedition more real. After conducting the research, hearing Mark's account and seeing pictures, it could sometimes feel a little flat. But an artifact from the day brought the whole thing to life, and added a sense of satisfaction and connection that looking through a glass display in a museum could never bring. Mark couldn't wait to see Eugene again for one of their much loved treasure talks, enjoying a coffee with a view of the cove.

Four signal bars appeared across Mark's phone indicating a strong reception. Mark thought he'd finish the call and ask Eugene to contact him as soon as he was back from the States. Pressing #1 again on his phone, it rang for three rings but this time the answer phone message didn't kick in. Someone picked up.

But it wasn't Eugene.

The piercing ring of the phone jolted Abby from the eerie silence of the cottage.

"Hello?" Abby asked again.

"Hi, who's this?" the voice asked.

"Abby. Who's this?"

"Abby? Hi, my name's Mark, I was looking to speak with Gene."

"I'm sorry Mr. Mark, he's not here at the moment, can I ask what this is regarding?"

"Yes, I'm a friend, and I've just finished a job he organized and was going to call in on him tomorrow morning."

Abby delayed her response. "I'm sorry Mr. Mark, tomorrow morning isn't a good time because I have some men booked in to arrive at the cottage."

"That's ok, the afternoon will be fine. And please, it's just Mark, that's my first name. I wasn't sure if he was even back yet from the States."

"Yes he er…," Abby paused trying to choose her words. "He is back, but… you say you're a friend?"

"Yes that's right, a very close friend. Are you okay? What men are coming tomorrow?"

"Some men from a house clearance firm," Abby said trying hard to hide the tears in her voice.

Mark eased his foot up from the accelerator, spotting a layby up ahead. "Hang on a moment, let me just pull over a sec," he let the big brakes bring the car to a stop. As the engine throbbed on idle, Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. "What's happened Abby? What's going on?"

"My grandpa hasn't been well for a few months now and I'm afraid his condition worsened when he visited us last month."

"You're his granddaughter? I'm sorry I didn't realize."

"Mark, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Abby said trying to keep her emotions calm, "but my grandpa has passed away."

Mark sat stunned. Looking out of the side window at the mountains in the distance, he shook his head. "Abby?"

"Yes?"

"You're Abby?"

"Yes I am."

So that's what it meant. It wasn't a key to an Abbey, it was a key for an Abby!
"I'm really sorry to hear this Abby. I'm truly sorry for your loss."

"I'm sorry too Mark, I'm sorry for you to find out this way."

Breathing out a sigh, Mark said, "I can't believe we often joked about this happening in the middle of a case. I swear it's like he knew and got me out here doing this damn recovery mission knowing exactly how it would play out."

"Well that sounds like Grandpa, always plotting and scheming something."

"A few moments ago you mentioned he was back - what did you mean by that."

Abby went quiet and tried again to hold back the tears. "What I meant was… I meant that I've, I…"

"It's okay Abby, I think I understand. Eugene told me about your grandma and how he brought her back to the lighthouse. He told me they were the happiest they'd ever been when holidaying in England which is why they bought the lighthouse as a holiday home."

"That's right, they were."

"So I get it. He wanted to be with her again and I guess now they can both go together at the same time." Mark rubbed tears from his eyes.

"Same time? But he already scattered her ashes off the coast?"

"No," Mark replied softly. "He didn't. He's kept them until he could join her. It wasn't just the sea he wanted to be sent off in, it was a particular place."

Abby was confused. She had come here to scatter her grandfather's ashes, his one last wish. It's what everyone had understood he did when he brought her grandma's urn back to England. "But there's no urn here in the cottage or in the lighthouse, I would have seen it."

"There's a special place in the lighthouse. It's your grandfather's study where he worked on important projects, and until just a moment ago I didn't know how I could show you. But now I realize what he's done. I have something he left for you."