The Explorer's Code, page 12
He looked up at her with wide eyes, like he’d never considered the idea of not finishing a book. “I need to know.” He turned away and poked at his sandwich. “I mean, I need to know how it ends.”
Anna grinned. Charlie. Such an Elaine. And she was such a Virginia.
The sisters had managed to stay so close. Why couldn’t she and Charlie? Maybe Elaine hadn’t thought Ginny was stupid and reckless.
“Want to go exploring?” Charlie asked, out of the blue.
“What?”
“You. Me. Go exploring. Let’s see if we can find something unusual.” His blue eyes blazed. “You’ve probably seen every corner of this building. You could show me around. And Emily knows a lot about the house. Maybe we could all explore it together.”
“Um.” It wasn’t that Anna was opposed to Emily. The girl wasn’t as obnoxious as she had seemed before, or at least she knew how to turn it off. And Anna was both floored and thrilled that Charlie wanted to go poking around the house. But the third floor waited, and she wanted to read more of that journal!
“You do want to, right?” Charlie asked. He nibbled his sandwich, made a face, and pulled out a tomato. He scowled at it. “In a chicken salad sandwich? Why do bad things happen to good people?” He turned back to Anna. “So?”
“I do, it’s just … I have something I need to do.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows, making his glasses slide down his nose. “What?”
“Just something.”
“I could come, too,” he said, pushing his glasses back into place.
“No!” Even if Charlie was cool with exploring a secret third floor, the bookcase door was sealed, which meant they’d have to climb up outside the tower. Charlie would never do that.
And, if she showed Charlie the third floor, it wouldn’t be a secret place anymore. She wanted it to stay that way. Just a little longer.
“Fine! As long as you’re not breaking the rules,” he said.
“I’m not.” That was true—no one had ever forbidden her from visiting the third floor. Admittedly, the tower climb was a bit more of a gray area.
“Maybe Emily will go with me,” Charlie said. He threw his sandwich down on the plate.
“Maybe. Or you could go on your own.” Emily hadn’t reappeared since she’d raced out of the Hendersons’ suite.
“I think I will. But if you see Emily, could you tell her I’m looking for her? I want to ask her if she’s seen anything strange.”
“Sure.” An empty promise, since Anna only planned to see a dusty tower room for the rest of the afternoon.
“Oh, and Anna?”
“What?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
The question was so bizarre, coming from Mr. Math and Logic, that Anna chuckled, and Charlie gave her the same expression he’d given that tomato. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know. Maybe. Why?”
“I thought I heard something earlier. Like … a ghostly howl.”
“A howl?” Anna hadn’t heard it, but she’d been high in the tower. Which seemed like a much better place for ghosts than the main house, now that she thought about it.
“Do you think what I heard … could be something?”
“A ghost in Idlewood? No. I don’t. But sometimes it does feel like…”
“What?” Charlie leaned toward her.
How to explain without giving away the third floor and journal? “Like there’s more here than just a house,” she finished. “Like … something is still here and alive. Not a ghost or anything but something else.”
“Like history, maybe?”
“Maybe.” Anna stood up, her sandwich devoured. “See you later.”
Charlie gave a half-hearted wave, already turning back to his book, and Anna left, feeling like she’d failed a test. Maybe she should have told him about the third floor when he’d asked about ghosts. Charlie was smart; he’d probably guessed that the house held secrets. But his idea of exploring was looking for another book. He didn’t understand the need to see what lay beyond what was already known and recorded.
Anna ran back to the China suite to grab a hat. The constant showers were making her hair even more unruly. A book lay on her bed. Hmm. Anna picked it up and turned it over. Emily’s math book. She must have left it here when she was looking around.
Anna knew it wasn’t polite to flip through someone else’s book, but she instinctively opened it before thought could get in the way.
Her eyes widened. “Those are the weirdest math problems I’ve ever seen.”
Tilting the book, she let a couple of folded papers fall to the bed. They looked like copies scanned from a notebook. A journal, maybe? But on the pages beneath the papers were a series of pictures of dragon statues beside a carved door and an old photo of a stone tower Anna was coming to know very well.
A book about Idlewood? Anna peeled the fake paper cover away from the front of the book. Idlewood: A Brief History, the title read. Authored by Jerry and Flora Shaughnessy. Huh. Anna put the cover back.
Anna opened the book again, flipping through pages. She had wondered what the house had been like before. Even though she had the letters and Ginny’s journal, knowing the history itself might be useful.
Skimming, she read pretty much what she already knew from Elaine’s letters. Elaine and Everett had married and started having children in Idlewood, where they lived the happy lives of the rich and social. Other details, like the architecture of the house, were pretty boring compared to the adventures Ginny wrote about. Anna found herself drifting away from the text, paying more attention to the sound of someone, probably Charlie, back in the suite, walking around the living room. She put the book down and picked up the papers to slide them back where she’d found them when she spotted the name Virginia in the copied script.
What? She stopped, unfolding the papers. She read the sentence with Virginia’s name in it. Then, she read it again.
Anna’s knees felt weak. Sinking into the bed, she turned back and read the sentence a third time. It hadn’t changed, although Anna wished it had.
Mother never imagined her own sister could have ever been wrapped up with the Mob, but she was wrong.
The Mob? Guns and crime and concrete shoes? That was impossible—Anna had read all about Virginia Maines. And sure, the woman was a bit of an enigma, but there had been nothing on any of the websites about her being part of the Mob.
What even was this paper? Anna shuffled through the pages to find their start. It was a letter, not a journal page—a letter from Simon Gardner, Elaine’s oldest child.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Shaughnessy,
I was very surprised to receive your letter. In all my years, no one has ever suggested to me that the reason the Gardners abandoned Idlewood was due to a scandal. This doesn’t surprise me; my parents worked hard to make sure the scandal was buried, and they rarely spoke of it again during the short years they were both alive. I remember little of what happened in the days leading up to June 14, 1925, as I was a very small child at the time. But I asked my mother about it years later, and I can tell you the little that she told me. I’m not surprised that my sisters had nothing to tell you. They were too young when it happened to even know to ask about it, like I did.
The scandal centered around my aunt, Virginia Maines, who was an explorer at that time.
Fingers growing cold, Anna kept reading. Simon Gardner revealed that for years, Virginia was indeed a rising star in her world. An explorer known for reckless yet ingenious exploits, a plucky woman who didn’t take no for an answer. Her legend grew with every journey she made.
As did her treasure collection. Anna already knew that Virginia typically brought home souvenirs from her travels. A number of them were mentioned in the letters. But when the items never made it into museums and weren’t sold to collectors, rumors grew about what Virginia was doing with them.
I liked to think Virginia hoarded them like the dragon Mother sometimes referred to her as. That much I remember. But it turned out that wasn’t the case. Virginia often lived at Idlewood when between adventures.
Of course Virginia lived here! Anna knew that already. But she didn’t know anything about a scandal or the Mob!
My own memories are fuzzy. I recall playing hide-and-seek with my aunt Virginia in the early summer of 1925 when a crowd of angry people stomped up to the house, cutting the game short. But before my mother passed away, she told me the whole truth. Police and other anti-corruption agents had busted a Mob family near Washington, D.C. In the raid, they turned up a number of interesting items, including a jade-and-gold statue of the Buddha that, famously, Virginia had brought home from China. I’ve included a copy of the newspaper clipping about the Buddha.
The clipping had been copied along with the letter. Anna touched the picture of Virginia holding a statue that, even in the black-and-white picture, gleamed like gold.
How could that statue have wound up in the possession of the Mob? The authorities wanted to know, too. They went to Idlewood to question the family, especially Virginia, who was currently visiting.
My parents were helpful but shocked. The police wanted to search the house, but Virginia was belligerent. She refused to allow a search without a warrant. So the police came back with one.
June 14, 1925, came. That evening, police searched Virginia’s things. Among her belongings, they found a ledger keeping track of treasures she’d brought home. And how much they’d sold for to the Mob.
My aunt Virginia was running a money-laundering business. She would bring back artifacts from the countries she visited. Then she would sell those artifacts to the Mob, and they could pay her with money they got from illegal businesses. She was free to spend that money as she pleased, free from any known connection to the Mob, and the Mob was free to legitimately sell the treasures and pocket the clean money from their sales. That way, they could use that money without the government wondering where they got it if it seemed too much for any legitimate business to earn. Their one mistake was selling the famous Buddha statue. It was too well known.
That discovery unleashed a number of questions for the police. If Virginia Maines was selling her treasures to the Mob, what else was she doing for them? Was she smuggling alcohol into the States (which was illegal at the time)? Was she smuggling weapons on her plane? How many people had been hurt because of her? Were those treasures gifts like she claimed, or were they stolen?
Anna’s gut clenched. No! Virginia couldn’t have stolen those items. No way!
Simon’s letter continued.
Virginia, of course, insisted she was innocent. But the statue, the ledger, and her belligerence when questioned seemed like too much proof. The police left Idlewood, convinced Virginia was guilty. Mother had been furious with my aunt. I vaguely remember them shouting in the entry hall. “You’ve shamed yourself and us!” Mother had said. The shouting continued until late in the evening. I held a pillow against my ears, but I could still hear it.
The next morning, Virginia was gone.
Anna knew the story. Not even her clothing had been taken with her. And no one ever found a single one of her treasures again.
The rest of the letter flowed past Anna’s eyes. Virginia’s flight was proof enough to the police that she was guilty. When she never appeared, her case was closed, the official story being that she must have died in the mountains, whether by wild animal, injury, or sheer exposure, no one knew. After all, Virginia Maines had never been foolish enough, before, to brave the wilderness without supplies. This time, perhaps, the lack of preparation finished her. The Gardners, ashamed, never publicly spoke of Virginia again. The ledger went missing before the police could take it, and Mr. Gardner used his influence to keep the police from speaking out about the case, so all reports of it were lost, probably destroyed. They preferred for people to remember Virginia as a hero but to forget that she was related to the family at Idlewood. Which was exactly what happened. And not long after, the Gardners sold Idlewood, and the scandal was buried even deeper.
That’s why I was so surprised when I got your letter. The secret had been just that for so long, but I suppose now it’s time for the truth. Mother never imagined her own sister could have ever been wrapped up with the Mob, but she was wrong. The hero Virginia Maines was nothing more than a thief and a criminal.
A spot of water hit the page.
Anna blinked back another tear. “It’s not true,” she said. So what if the letter was written by an actual member of the Gardner family? Ginny was innocent. She had to be. It wasn’t like anyone had any proof that she did any of these things.
These are the memories of someone who was there. He said his parents told him the story, and they would know. Why would they lie? You know she lived here, and you know she disappeared. Maybe this is why. Because she was selling her treasures to the Mob. She stole her treasures, and she sold them.
“I would never do that!” Anna announced to the empty room.
But you aren’t Virginia, she told herself. And Ginny liked to court danger.
Her hero, Virginia Maines, a thief? A Mob accomplice? It couldn’t possibly be true.
And yet, there it was, staring at her in black and white.
* * *
Numbers. Charlie needed numbers. And yet he kept revisiting the same places he’d found messages before. The upstairs hall. The library. Hoping somehow a new list of code numbers would appear there.
Then again, Charlie thought, remembering how the bookcase shook, maybe they could. Anything could happen in this house. Maybe not ghosts … but something.
Why was he doing this? He wasn’t even sure he was supposed to be looking for a book code! For all he knew, he was chasing the wrong trail. But he kept carrying the book, searching through it and through the house, because what other choice did he have?
He had a puzzle, and he needed to know what the puzzle was for. It would bug him forever to leave Idlewood not knowing the solution. What message did it mean to tell him, and why?
And who had left it? Charlie thought it was Mr. Silver, the overseer of the renovations. But no matter how much he read about the house in the library, he could never figure out why Silver would leave a message.
Emily knew Idlewood so well; maybe she would know why a code had been left in the walls. Maybe she’d even be able to see the changes made during the renovation!
So Charlie stopped wandering aimlessly through the halls and began a real search. He started at the ballroom; she’d been there earlier. “Hello?” he called, his voice echoing in the big room. “Anyone here?”
A figure rose from one of the armchairs. But it was only Mr. Llewellyn. “Sorry,” Charlie called. “I’m looking for Emily.”
Mr. Llewellyn frowned. “Why?” Then, folding his arms, the man added, “I mean, it looks like you’re about to do some reading, though I recommend you go outside. It’s a lovely day. Most of the other guests are spending their afternoon by the pond.”
If they’re out there, then why are you in here? But then again, Mr. Llewellyn was the owner. If he wanted to sit inside, that was his right.
Charlie shook his head. “Done reading. Have you seen Emily?”
“Not since lunch.” Mr. Llewellyn took a step toward Charlie and craned his neck. “Is your sister with you?”
Charlie shook his head.
“Where is she?” Mr. Llewellyn asked.
“These days, I have no idea. But as long as no one’s yelling, it’s okay, right?” Charlie asked. “I’ll go check outside. She’s probably out there.” He shut the door to the ballroom and hurried to put the book in his bedroom.
Charlie had spent the whole morning looking for that copy of Treasure Island, so he hadn’t had a chance to enjoy the weather. But Mr. Llewellyn was right: The day was warm and not too humid, not after yesterday’s rain.
He’d also been right that everyone else was out, enjoying the grounds. The women’s tour group wandered in pairs or trios, occasionally stopping to rub more sunblock on. The young family was playing “Duck, Duck, Goose” on the grass. Rosie and Xavier were nowhere to be seen—they must be hiking the Appalachian Trail again.
There were Emily’s parents, out walking the small gardens on the east side of the house. Charlie waved at them. Maybe he should ask them about the clue. They were Emily’s parents; they might know the house’s history as well as she did, or even better.
But Charlie’s parents didn’t much care for codes, and Anna certainly didn’t. Maybe Emily was the only history geek in the family. Besides, imagining himself telling an adult about the numbers and messages he’d found made Charlie a little queasy. What if they thought what he was doing was wrong? What if they stopped him from looking for the numbers?
Emily, though, was his age. She might be interested, especially about the book and the history. Hey, what if she’d found numbers, in groups of three, around the house somewhere? What luck would that be?
Charlie couldn’t find Emily anywhere on the front side of the house, or on the east side. He didn’t think she’d be in the west parking lot, but the expansive lands to the back … maybe. Charlie hadn’t explored that area yet, though he was sure Anna must have. He passed Sunglasses Woman, who crouched and yelled, “Give a little warning before you run around corners like that!”
“Sorry!” Charlie didn’t slow.
Around the back was the forest of evergreens he’d seen from the house. Could Emily be in there? Charlie wasn’t sure how, since the trees were densely grown. He tried to squeeze between two of them and got a branch in the mouth for his efforts.
As he circled the trees, he couldn’t help thinking: This house, with its codes and secrets … wouldn’t it make sense that the weird forest in the backyard wasn’t just an old, overgrown grove but a puzzle itself?
When Charlie found the gap between the trees, he wasn’t surprised at all. “A maze,” he whispered, and headed inside. Whether or not Emily was in here (and he didn’t know why she wouldn’t be because mazes were cool!), he wanted to explore it.
