Welcome to my first story in this fandom. I've played almost every Nancy Drew game, the only exception being Secrets Can Kill Remastered, and I've played these games ever since there were only two games in the series.
So, I got this idea from Tumblr actually, ironic since I'm almost never on Tumblr. But I found following prompt on one of the blogs and it got me thinking:
The poem by the door in the Chinese room where Nancy was staying during MHM? Louis was lying when he said it was some cheap souvenir from Chinatown. Abby was right about the tapestry having a hidden meaning. It was hand-embroidered by Lizzie Applegate as a set of instructions on how to find the location of Diego's gold in the house.
Well, I think we all know the poem is Lizzie Applegate's instructions for finding the gold. What got me thinking though is what each character thinks of that poem, how they relate to the treasure hunt. I couldn't fit in all the characters from the game, so here are the perspectives of Nancy, Abby, Louis, and of course, Lizzie Applegate on the poem around which the treasure hunt is centered.
Warning: MAJOR spoilers for Message in a Haunted Mansion. Don't read if you have not played the game!
Enjoy!
Listen, my child, to this story of dreams
And know that the beginning is more difficult than it seems.
"More difficult indeed," Elizabeth Valdez thought to herself as she continued sewing the final touches on the tapestry, all the while contemplating the poem that would eventually lead someone to the hidden gold. She had read and reread the rhyme a thousand times to be sure it was adequate, which she finally deemed it was; however, she hadn't really given directions on how to begin. The poem told what to do with the ruby, the eye of the phoenix, once it was found, but she had no way of knowing if anyone would work out where to search for it. And honestly, she wasn't planning on leaving directions where to search for it. She had left other clues, that was for certain, but she couldn't make the search too easy. That was for Diego's benefit more than anything else.
"Diego," she thought fondly. She put down her sewing and walked to the window as she always did when she thought of him. Her room, the Chinese room as it would be referred to years later, had a window that overlooked the drive which led up to the Golden Gardenia. She had always preferred this place over her previous business, the Hotel Chinois, probably because it better served her purposes now. Also, she could look out the window and always know when someone was coming.
When Diego was coming.
If she closed her eyes and imagined hard enough, she could almost hear his horse galloping up the drive now. She opened her eyes again and returned to her work. The candle was starting to wane and she had to finish the tapestry before she ran out of light.
As she worked, Elizabeth ran over in her mind all of the different pieces of her elaborate puzzle. The ruby was in the pyramid box, the Hanzi symbol to open the box was hidden in the secret compartment in the entryway staircase, the sequence to open the compartment was in the basement, the melody to unlock the piano cabinet was in her writing desk, and the key to the desk was here in her room. Everything began and ended with her room. She smiled at that; she loved for everything to come full circle. Every piece led to the next piece, it was rather simple really.
Except, of course, for the beginning.
When the ten daughters are reunited in order,
When the four-sided box loses its border,
She sewed the last thread and held the tapestry at arm's length for one last look over. She smiled and nodded in satisfaction; it was finished. Tomorrow, she would have someone fix it permanently to the wall by the door, and her work was done.
Setting the poem on the chair by the fireplace, she went to another tapestry hanging beside her bed. Pulling it aside, she quickly punched in the combination of the Chinese zodiac, then the one of the Chinese symbols which again corresponded to the rhyme. She wondered if anyone would think to link the words in the poem to this safe, or if anyone would even find the safe, but then shrugged and told herself, "time will tell."
When the safe was open, she immediately reached in and removed three pieces of paper. The first two were letters from her beloved Diego. He couldn't write to her often in case the letters were intercepted. If someone else were to read them, she would lose her reputation and he would be incarcerated. That he had even risked signing one of them "El Diablo" was a dare of which she still strongly disapproved, but she knew she couldn't stop him. He was who he was, Diego Valdez, also known as El Diablo, the bandit. He was a risk-taker, a chancer, the most notorious bandit in California. He always loved a good challenge, which was why Elizabeth had purposely made the beginning of the treasure hunt difficult: to challenge him when he came back. He would have mocked her if she had done otherwise. He probably would anyway, saying that it had been easy to find the treasure and she should have made it more difficult, and she would smile and agree with him and kiss him congratulations. That he had given her the gold for safe-keeping was a risk in itself and something she hadn't wanted to do, but…you can't help who you love. Even though it was against her better instincts, she did it, because she loved him.
She turned to the third piece of paper, which was their marriage certificate. It had been a very small, private ceremony, just the two of them, three witnesses and the priest. She knew it was safer for them both, no one could know they were married. They had pledged themselves to each other that day, forsaking all others. She had sworn she would do anything for him, but she hadn't realized exactly what that meant until it was too late. She agreed to hide the gold even though it was against her moral principles, in the hope that after this grand theft, he would become an honest man. She always held on to that belief, sometimes it was all that kept her going. She closed her eyes and prayed to the Lord in Heaven that he would return to her soon, that he was ready to settle down, that they could announce their union and live out the rest of their lives together at the Gardenia. She knew it was a fool's hope, but she hoped nonetheless.
She put the papers back into the safe and locked it up tight before retiring to bed for the night. Her eyes fell again on the poem and she sighed again.
"It's not easy living a double life," she thought to herself. "I don't know how he has done it for so long."
She blew out the candle and closed her eyes. In the morning, she would wake up and she would be Lizzie Applegate, the famous songwriter and actress, owner of the Golden Gardenia, playing the gracious hostess and waiting on her guests. But for tonight, she was Elizabeth Valdez, beloved wife of Diego Valdez, and for now, living both lives was enough.
When the eye of the phoenix is in your hand
When the bird of fire can see again
If there was one thing that was odd about this house, Abby always thought to herself, it was the half-blind phoenix in the entryway. She didn't much like the phoenix heads on the staircase, they looked somewhat creepy, even for her. Especially the one she had termed the half-blind one because it was missing one of its ruby eyes. As far as she knew, she was the only one who had noticed, but she was rather OCD for small details; besides, it wasn't like the rest of the household were ever around to notice. Louis was always doing research in the library (in fact, aside from a couple times when he had gone in the dining room to speak to Rose, she never saw him in any other part of the house) and Charlie almost never left the basement.
She shook her head, Charlie practically lived in the cellar, he never left except for meal times; and even then, she occasionally had to take lunch down to him because he worked right through it. He was quiet as a mouse too, and she often wondered how he managed to get in and out without anyone noticing. One time she had gotten up extra early to wait for him come in through the front door, but gave up when he didn't arrive an hour after he was supposed to be there. Finally giving up, she decided to go into the dining room and get breakfast, but started when she saw Charlie already at the dining room table chowing down. She turned right around and went back up to her room before she accidentally said something she'd regret. He had already snuck up on her a couple different times also, which soon led her to the conclusion that he was causing their string of accidents.
The accidents. Her mind turned to them again as she got back to the house after her daily outing. She had barely batted an eyelash at the first ones, but after the gas leak, she and Rose had both begun to wonder. She hadn't told Rose, but she'd heard Charlie muttering to himself after the scaffolding collapsed that it looked like it had been tampered with. She decided not to mention her suspicions to her friend unless she came up with proof that something strange was going on, or unless she caught the handyman in the act.
But why would someone deliberately want to sabotage their property? That was the question. She believed there was a ghost haunting the place and while she didn't believe it was Mr. Valdez who was causing the accidents, she had to admit there was something unique about the house. Darned if she could figure out exactly what it was though. Her one attempt to bring it up in conversation hadn't yielded much help.
"Why would someone deliberately vandalize someone else's property? Hypothetically speaking, of course." she had asked Rose that morning.
Rose looked at her strangely. "Why do you ask?"
"It's a book I've been reading in my spare time," Abby dished out her pre-prepared lie. "Someone is vandalizing someone else's house and making it look like accidents, and then another someone else gets killed when they figure out what's going on. Of course there aren't many clues yet, but for now, I'm just trying to think why."
Rose thought a moment. "The most logical explanation is that the vandal wants the other person out of that house."
"What for?"
"Perhaps there's something hidden in it, perhaps the vandal needs it for something, or perhaps he just likes scaring people. Or he wants to buy it for next to nothing and sell it for twice what it's worth. Can you give me more to go on than that?"
"Not really," Abby replied, perhaps a little too quickly, but she didn't want to risk lying too much, at least not on what was already something of a feeble lie. She quickly came up with, "there wasn't a prologue and so far, not a whole lot of back story."
"Keep reading then, you'll figure it out. Then tell me if I was right."
Abby had quickly changed the subject then, before she said something that would make Rose call her out on her lie. Despite being a drama coach, she still wasn't particularly good at deliberately lying to people. Nevertheless, as she went back upstairs, she pondered on what Rose had said. She and Rose had already paid a fortune for this house, it wouldn't do much good buying it from them and selling it again, particularly in the state it was in. As for scaring people, well…that was Abby's job (they had to promote the business end of the B&B somehow; in a city like San Francisco, they needed anything that could give them a competitive advantage), and she knew she wasn't the one causing the accidents, so that was out. That really only left something being hidden in the house, which seemed as equally ridiculous as someone trying to buy the house and sell it again.
For reasons she didn't know, she found herself walking down the hall towards the Chinese room. She closed the door behind her and turned to look at the poem hanging by the door. Everything that was in that room, the furniture, the mantelpiece, the tapestries, and especially the poem had come with the house, and apparently the previous owner had been under orders not to sell one piece of it, a promise which he had passed on to Rose and Abby. Neither of them minded much, they both loved this room. Every time Abby came in here, she always reread the poem and contemplated what it meant. Everything, the secrets of the house, Mr. and Mrs. Valdez, everything revolved around this poem, she was sure of it; what she wasn't sure of was how all the pieces fit together. The lines "when the eye of the phoenix is in your hand, when the bird of fire can see again" always struck a chord with her, because her thoughts inevitably turned back to the half-blind phoenix. This poem was the reason she hadn't told Rose about its missing eye: she knew her friend would immediately replace it, which she didn't want to happen. She was convinced the ruby was here somewhere. She sometimes searched for it after she had finished her chores, but knew the odds of her finding it were slim to none. Still, she didn't give up hope.
She sighed and went back to her room, her mind now turning to the line about golden wonder. How would it be if there was something hidden in the house? That would certainly explain all the accidents, someone trying to get them out so they could search for buried treasure in peace. She chuckled and shook her head; things like that happened in books, not in life. She locked the door to her room and sat down at her desk, beginning to think of her business strategy for promoting a haunted bed and breakfast, pushing away the fantasies of buried treasure.
It wasn't until a few days later that she discovered she'd hit the nail straight on the head.
When the moon sleeps and the sun plays
The king of the sky will shine his rays
Louis was getting impatient and more than a little frustrated. He had searched every corner of this house, every nook and cranny, discreetly asked the others if they had found anything related to El Diablo, playing off his inquiries as an interest in the house's history (which had led to a long conversation with Charlie, who was writing his history paper on El Diablo). He didn't know where else he was supposed to look; all he knew was that the gold was in the house somewhere, and he was about ready to tear the place down with his bare hands.
Which might be his next course of action, considering setting the place on fire hadn't worked.
The point still stood, he needed a new plan and fast. Ever since the Drew girl arrived and began asking questions, he knew his timetable had been moved up. Her first questions had been fairly innocuous, an interest in his work, curiosity in the house's history, and a few comments on the accidents. However, when she started asking more and more about the accidents, then about Lizzie Applegate and finally, El Diablo's treasure, he realized that she'd begun to piece together the puzzle. He was well aware he didn't have all the pieces himself, but it was rather alarming that Nancy knew almost everything he did, and had discovered it in far less time than he had. The only comfort he had was that she didn't know yet that there was a connection between El Diablo and Lizzie Applegate, or at least he didn't think she did, but if things continued like this, then she would find out soon enough. He still wasn't sure what the connection was between the two figures, but he had to figure it out first.
So were his thoughts the morning after lighting the fire in the parlor. He knew he was on the right track now. After the fire marshal left, he'd spent hours "consoling" Rose in the dining room, telling her the project was too much and that he had a potential buyer for the property, which was true in a way. He was going to buy the mansion, and if he tread carefully, Rose would sell it to him without question. He just needed one more "accident" to finally convince her, one that would preferably also injure that nosy friend of hers. The warning note he'd slipped under her door hadn't deterred her in the slightest, so an accident might have to do the trick.
Those thoughts were justified a moment later as he opened his newspaper over breakfast in his home. He was skimming over the usual headlines when one small article caught his eye, "Rick Arlen: Back With a Vengeance". Normally, this wouldn't have meant anything to him, except that his sister watched Light of Our Love almost religiously and of course, had gossiped about it when it hit the press that Rick Arlen was receiving death threats. What caught his eye though wasn't the fact that Arlen had renewed his contract or that a stalker had been pursuing him; no, what interested him was the following phrase, "a teen detective named Nancy Drew was on the case." It went on to say that Nancy had been acting as an extra onstage, but had really been called in by Mattie Jensen to investigate the stalker.
His thoughts turned to the girl now staying in the mansion. Nancy Drew, it was far too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence. It had to be the same girl. He looked again, but the article didn't provide much more information about her, nothing concrete to prove it was her. He wondered if he could get hold of William Pappas and ask him about her, but then shook his head at the ridiculous notion. If the man hadn't talked to the press about the girl, he certainly wouldn't talk to Louis. Nonetheless, he tore the article out of the paper and stuck it in his briefcase, promising to investigate the girl more thoroughly later.
As he drove to the Victorian, he kept thinking of what he was missing, and it was staring him right in the face. He remembered reading something upon first arriving in the mansion, which was why he spent so much time in the library, he was trying to find that particular book again. Most of the books were on various eras in United States, particularly California, history, which was where he'd found the biography of Lizzie Applegate and the first reference to the…that was it!
Pulling up to the mansion at that moment, he ran inside and went straight to the library, depositing his briefcase on the chair by the mahjong table, barely able to suppress a cruel chuckle at his hunch. Running his eyes quickly over the shelves, he pulled down a book called Through Our Own Voices, and turned to the page about a man who'd worked for Lizzie Applegate. There it was, Gum Bo Fu, which after a quick search on his computer, he found to mean "gold treasure mansion." That was it! Here, finally was the proof that the gold was hidden somewhere in the house. Now, where else had he seen…the poem in the Chinese room and the "gate to golden wonders." Now Louis was positive the poem held the key to finding the gold, the problem was it was too vague on the details, and he couldn't go back in and study it without Nancy catching him and demanding to know what he was doing in her room.
"Louis, are you in there?" he heard Rose call from the parlor.
"Coming!" he called back, hurriedly locking the book in his briefcase before exiting.
It turned out Rose had just wanted his opinion on a new piece of furniture for one of the bedrooms and after they had finished discussing it, he found it a good time to bring up the subject of their resident detective.
"Rose, how long have you known Nancy?" he asked casually.
"Ever since she was a child," Rose answered without thought. "Her housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, is a good friend of mine."
"She's a nice girl," Louis remarked.
"Yes, she is and very handy to have around in a pinch. I don't know what we would've done if she hadn't been there to put out that fire. All I can say is it's a good thing she doesn't panic in a crisis."
"She's very inquisitive. Has she always been that way?"
"Always. Even when she was a little girl, she was always wondering about things, asking questions, solving puzzles. Kate would buy her puzzle books and Carson would teach her how to think logically and methodically. From what Hannah's told me, lately she's developed a reputation in River Heights as something of an amateur sleuth."
"A sleuth?" Louis asked, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows.
"Mmhmm. Apparently, Nancy's always running into some kind of crime, and always puts the culprit behind bars. She was visiting her aunt in Florida about a month ago and got called in when a student was killed, then she was just in New York last week."
Louis felt his heart sink. "What was she doing in New York?"
"Someone apparently was receiving death threats, I didn't get all the details, but it sounded too dangerous for her to be involved in. Why don't you ask her about it?" Rose suddenly looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "Why the interest?"
"She's been asking a lot of questions lately. I just wondered if she'd always been that way," he replied smoothly, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head.
Rose seemed to accept that answer. "She hasn't been bothering you, has she?"
"Certainly not," he lied. "In fact, her questions show a deep interest in your project. I find that encouraging."
"So do I, she's been a saint these last few days."
"Who's been a saint?" asked Nancy, coming into the dining room at that moment.
"Hello, Nancy," Rose smiled. "You have. Did you need something?"
"I wanted to ask you something, Rose," she nodded.
"I'll leave you two to chat then," Louis said, getting to his feet. As he passed her though, he noticed her giving him an odd look, a scrutinizing look. And he had a feeling he knew why. As soon as he was out of sight, he bolted back to the library and opened his briefcase. Just as he thought. Things had been moved around. The book was still there (his only consolation being that even if she had flicked through it, there was no guarantee that she'd found the appropriate page), but one of his letters was lying in a different place and he saw with a sinking feeling that the article about Rick Arlen was out of place also.
That did it, she had to go.
He quickly picked up his briefcase and left for his gallery, thinking that getting some work done would clear his head. He could come up with a plan for getting rid of her and keep thinking of where to look for the gold…unless she found it for him, then he dealt her. He knew he had to get out before he accidentally let something slip, so he quickly left the mansion, got himself a cup of coffee, and arrived at his gallery, where he locked himself in his office so he wouldn't be disturbed. He had some planning to do.
If he had waited five more minutes, he would have noticed the sun was streaming through the stained glass over the doorway onto the phoenix heads on the bannister, onto a gaping hole where there should have been a ruby eye.
And hidden beneath a river of colors
Will lie a gate to golden wonders.
"This is it," Nancy whispered breathlessly, as she stared at the floor where there was printed on the wood a phoenix. After all the references to phoenixes, she wasn't surprised that another one would be concealing the gold, acting as a sort of guardian, entrusted to the task by Lizzie Applegate herself.
After all the secrets, the clues and the puzzles, it had all led up to this moment. She knew upon first reading the poem in her room that it contained directions, but it wasn't until reading Lizzie Applegate's papers, and finding the Chinese symbols all over the house that she connected the dots. The poem was right about one thing, the beginning was more difficult than it seemed. She wasn't sure if it was detective instinct or sheer dumb luck that she found the keys to the attic and the writing desk, but without them, she couldn't have found the rest of the clues. But once she had found them, the rest fell into place rather quickly.
Now, here she was.
She was glad she was alone at the moment to witness this, everyone else was at the Winter Festival; and call her selfish, but she wanted to experience finding the gold on her own before she turned it over to the authorities. Knowing that she had little time though before the others got back, she reached for the crowbar she'd found in the attic, grateful that she'd thought to bring it downstairs with her. It took a few moments, but finally, she felt the wood give and pried the opening loose. She gasped at the many coins lying in the hole, glinting in the sunlight.
"Gold! And to think I was standing on it all this time!"
She heard someone laugh behind her and the next second, she felt something come down hard on her head and blacked out momentarily.
So much for being alone in the house.
So what did you think? Good? A couple of clarifications as to why I wrote it the way I did, particularly Louis's section. I based this story off the very first time I played the game. That time, the fire in the parlor happened a little early, and that segment came before spying on Louis in the library. After that, there was a point when I wasn't sure what to do next and I had already found the library secret passage and I was about to go back and see if there were new clues, and when I zoomed in on the andiron to open the bookshelf, I actually heard Louis give an evil laugh outside in the parlor. Then came spying on him and getting the gum bo fu book. That kinda spoiled it after that that Louis was the villain. So that's the reason I wrote his section the way I did. With Lizzie Applegate/Elizabeth Valdez, that last paragraph about a double life came on the spur of the moment, but I thought it a good way of how she relates to her husband, and no matter what, she was the perfect guardian for the gold. And with Abby, she struck me as a very interesting character; she genuinely believes in spirits, but at the same time, she's got a sensible head on her shoulders. She knows how to use that belief to garner some publicity for the B&B, so playing that game now as opposed to when I was 11...back then, she seemed creepy, now she's actually pretty fun. So her section was fun to write. I didn't spend very much time with Nancy's section because the others were all honestly way more interesting to write.
Please read, review, favorite, all the good stuff! Thank you for reading!
