Hilltop Castle Mystery

An Egyptian treasure goes missing in this exciting short story by Val Bonsall.

Would Charles and Adeline get to the bottom of the mysterious night-time noises?

“My mother,” Harriet told them. “Pray excuse me.”

Now that they were alone, Adeline shook her head.

“Spirit-messengers with warnings? Rubbish! It is clear she is troubled by her brother’s delay, and anxiety has got the better of her.”

Maine was looking up at the window of Harriet’s bedchamber.

“It is as she said,” he mused. “Anyone should have been visible –”

He broke off at the sound of a horse’s hooves coming along the road.

A rider came into view. A good-looking man, Adeline thought. From his clothes, he was some sort of artisan.

He nodded and would have proceeded on his way had Harriet not rejoined them.

“This is Jed,” she said, “a friend of my brother.”

“Has he returned?” Jed asked her.

“No.” Harriet informed him of her recent experience and her fears.

“The night before that,” Jed told her, “a similar thing happened to me.

“I thought it was perhaps your brother playing a trick – you know how he is. But that could not be, if he is still away.” Jed paused.

“I do think, however, it is someone playing a trick.”

He dismounted and stood close to Harriet.

“You must not fear,” he urged. “I will return tonight to ensure all is well.”

Harriet smiled.

“Thank you, Jed.”

She reached out to him but turned away as her mother’s voice was once more heard, speaking far from pleasantly to one of the staff.

Jed pulled a face.

“I’d best be off.”

They watched his departing figure.

“He and my brother were recently in Egypt together,” Harriet told them.

“Egypt?”

Maine’s gaze was now back on Harriet and

Adeline sighed, seeing a look in his eyes – rather nice eyes, she had to admit – that she’d seen many times before.

“I’ve always fancied going to Egypt myself,” he said. “What was their purpose?”

“There’s a man interested in antiquities who lives in the big house that looks like a castle up on the hill,” Harriet said.

“They, and a few other locals, went out there with him.”

“Did your brother talk much about it?”

“He spoke of the heat and dust, the narrowness of the passageways down to the burial chambers–”

“Burial chambers?” Maine’s eyes were glinting.

“Yes, a man could get stuck, so he told me, and the air was suffocating.

“But they discovered the tomb of someone important.

“They knew that because of treasures that had been buried with the mummified body. Ugh!”

She shuddered rather theatrically.

“Yes, amulets and similar items of precious stone were buried with the wealthier deceased,” Maine agreed.

Harriet’s mother, previously just a voice, appeared just then.

“Who are these people?” she demanded haughtily.

“Merely strangers, wanting directions,” Harriet replied, leading them out on to the road.

“I am sorry,” she said to Maine. “I should not have troubled you. I was just being silly.”

Maine assured her she wasn’t.

Adeline wasn’t sure whether this was just him being gentlemanly, or whether he considered she was right to be afraid.

“No, I was,” Harriet insisted. “But all is well now, and Jed is coming past again later,” she added, with what Adeline could only describe as a dreamy smile.

****

“Jed seems to have reassured her,” Maine said as they walked back in the direction they’d come.

“Yes,” Adeline replied thoughtfully. “And he is right. It is clearly someone playing a trick.”

“I’m not so sure, Miss

Lee. Her brother and Jed were in Egypt together, and both their homes have been disturbed.

“Legends abound of trouble resulting from the excavation of ancient tombs there.”

“Mr Maine!”

“Harriet said,” he continued, “that one of the words she managed to catch was ‘moon’. What if it was actually ‘tomb’?” He turned to her.

“I know this will annoy you, Miss Lee, but I’ve read many such reports, and to speak to someone who’s actually been there –”

“Let me guess. While we’re here, you want to call on this man in the castle on the hill – not the most detailed address!”

“I’m sure we can find it.” Adeline shrugged.

“As we have finished our business with Harriet more quickly than anticipated, on this occasion I agree.”

She smiled as she noted his surprise. But the truth was, there was something she was now keen to find out as well.

****

Vague though the address was, they found it easily enough.

The house – turreted like a castle and with a tower – stood guardian-like over the town.

As they were uninvited, Adeline was not confident of their being admitted – until she saw the owner, Henry.

He was of a similar age to Maine and had the same intense look about him.

Adeline sensed another man devoted to his, also rather unusual, vocation.

Whilst archaeology was of interest to the public – the numbers who had attended a recent unwrapping of an Egyptian mummy were testament to this – it was not something many people actually did.

Presumably Henry, too, saw a kindred soul in Maine, for they were quickly invited in and, to Adeline’s delight, served tea by a pretty red-haired girl.

Maine, who had described himself to Henry as “a recorder of unexplained phenomena”, promptly started questioning their host.

“I fear you’ve come to the wrong man,” Henry replied with a smile.

“I am not the one to ask about shall we say, ‘mystical’ matters. I conduct my work in an entirely scholarly and scientific way.”

“A man after my own heart!” Adeline said, proceeding to give him her view of the world.

Words of agreement were batted back and

“I conduct my work in an entirely scholarly and scientific way”

forward as they spoke.

Then, as though remembering Maine was with them, Henry clarified.

“The superstitious nonsense still does persist, though. The men I had with me took very seriously a ridiculous tale told to them, concerning a chamber recently excavated near where we were.”

“Ridiculous?” Maine asked.

“Yes. The story was that the disturbed mummy came back to life!”

“Was it actually seen in this reanimated state?”

“So the story says. In a distant museum, to which the mummified body of the loved one of the deceased had earlier been taken!”

“These other men who were with you and believed the story, clearly they were not of the same temperament as yourself,” Adeline said.

“Indeed not. Usually I have other scholars accompany me. These were local men who had attended a talk I’d given in the town.

“They seemed eager, but I suspect now that some of it, at least, was false.”

“I wonder, could

perhaps their enthusiasm have been inspired by the talk of riches buried with the dead?” Adeline asked.

Henry gave her a shrewd look, then laughed.

“Exactly, Miss Lee! And I imagine, since you’re obviously very perceptive, you’ve also guessed the rest?”

“Not in detail,” she answered, “but in general terms I’d say something of value connected to the mummy has gone missing, and you suspect one of your team has taken it?”

Still smiling, Henry held up his hands.

“I may as well confess. Yes, something has been stolen, by one of my companions, as you say.

“I have been using the story they heard to scare them into returning it.”

“By way of mysterious messages in the dead of night?”

Henry nodded.

“You have left it a while,” Maine remarked.

“Yes.” He pointed to a closed door. “Though the mummy we found is now here, I did not set about unrolling it immediately.”

“Unrolling?” Adeline asked.

“Unwrapping the cotton,” Maine said to her.

“Linen,” Henry corrected. “It is linen that was used.” Maine shrugged.

“Linen, then.”

“It is a job,” Henry resumed, “that must be done with great care, and by the time the mummy was shipped to me, I had become involved in the translation of the hieroglyphs that were on the tomb.”

He pointed to a desk cluttered with papers and books.

Maine went over to it. “Great progress has, I believe, been made in that regard,” Maine said, with genuine interest.

Adeline was more interested in what lay on a chair by the desk.

A black cloak, presumably used by Henry to appear barely visible when he’d paid his nocturnal visits on his erstwhile team.

“When I started the unrolling,” Henry continued, “I found all was not as it should be.

“Something had been removed, and I was sure I knew what it was.”

“And you were equally sure it had been removed by one of the men who’d been there with you?” Adeline asked.

“Certainly. I keep extensive journals of my trips and I had no doubt.”

“I feel I should say,” Maine said, “you have caused one young woman great distress.”

“I regret that.” Henry looked sorry. “And it will not happen again. My trick worked. The artefact has been returned!” “Anonymously, I assume.” “You assume correctly.”

****

They left and went to the station. The last suitable train had gone.

They had come prepared to spend the night at Harriet’s home – that was often the way in their investigations.

But without any such invitation on this occasion, they booked rooms in a busy coaching-house.

“My feeling,” Adeline said as they ate their meal, “is that it was Jed who stole the valuable amulet, or whatever it was.

“Harriet has obviously given him her heart, but he looked poor.

“Her mother, I suspect, would not consider him suitable, unless he came into money . . .”

She broke off, interrupted by a commotion in the room.

“Have you heard?” someone said. “The mummy up at the castle has gone missing!”

“Lock your doors tonight, barricade your windows!” a man cried.

“He shouldn’t bring things like that back here!” someone else proclaimed.

Maine was on his feet and Adeline stood up, too.

****

The castle looked truly sinister in the night as they approached it. Adeline felt a little scared.

The girl who had brought them tea on their earlier visit let them in.

Adeline noticed her arm was bandaged – maybe that contributed to her fraught expression.

But everyone was jumpy, particularly Henry himself.

“Not only has the mummy gone, but the recently returned artefact has, too!” he told them.

He blamed himself for the disappearance of the mummy.

“I’d been taking some measurements and had left it not properly secure. But that is not the case with the artefact.

“Come, I’ll show you. . .” Taking a candle, he led them through a door, which he had first to unlock, and up a steep, windowless staircase.

“We’re in the tower,” he told them. “It is used for the storage of private papers and therefore is open only to family members, of which I am presently the only one.”

At the top of the stairway was another door, narrow and of rougher-looking wood.

It seemed to stick and took Henry longer to unlock but they were eventually admitted into a circular room, with only slits for windows.

In the centre stood a large, sturdy metal safe.

“This is where I put it,” Henry said, unlocking the safe.

Its door swung open, to reveal, as he had said, abundant papers, but nothing else.

“What sort of artefact was it?” Maine asked.

“A heart scarab,” Henry said, “to protect the heart of the deceased and be a replacement, should the need arise.”

He set about stacking up the papers that had fallen on to the stone floor.

“I think I’ve won this one, Miss Lee,” Maine said quietly to Adeline. “It is impossible that the scarab was taken from here by any natural means.

“All those locked doors, no windows –”

“Mr Maine! I hope you’re not suggesting that the mummy, somehow mysteriously revitalised, has come and itself taken this . . . scarab?”

“Heart scarab, Miss Lee. Don’t you see? Think of that organ’s importance.

“You yourself spoke of it twice today – of Harriet giving her heart to Jed and our friend Henry being a man after your own heart.”

Briefly Adeline wondered if Charles Maine could possibly be jealous.

Normally this would have amused her and, yes, perhaps pleased her, too.

But she was too busy trying to work out a rational, sensible explanation for the recent happenings to dwell on this development.

So she went over what she had thus far.

Henry insisted only he presently had access to the tower stairway.

However, people with household staff often treated them as invisible, yet they flitted about everywhere performing their duties, and often had duplicate keys.

Taking the candle, she noticed strands of fabric caught in the frame of the ill-fitting door to the tower room.

A picture popped into her head. The maid with the bandaged hand!

Could the fibres be from that? Or from the cotton aprons of any of the staff, for that matter?

She leaned forward to examine them more closely.

Was it cotton?

Or was it perhaps linen, very old linen . . .

The candle seemed to flicker as, now remembering the story Henry had told them, another picture popped into her head.

Of two mummies, lovers in life, at last together again somewhere.

Adeline smiled for a moment, then shook her head.

Really, she was getting as bad as Maine!

Of course it was fibres from a maid’s apron, or the like!

The End.