Chapter Eight

About eighteen hours and some negotiating later, Ben, Abigail, Riley, Ian, Tanya, Phil, Viktor, and Powell were gathered together in Ian's sun room, and the notebook Tanya and Ian put the results of the translation of the journal entry on in the center of the table they were all seated around. "And you're telling us that you know where East Brunswick Avenue is?" Ben asked after a brief pause in conversation.

"We're born and raised Londoners," Tanya said.

"She's right. I'm pretty sure we can find our way around with some degree of ease," Ian added. "The matter of some debate seems to be the main riddle found in the entry. Any thoughts?"

"Well, the phrases 'where prying eyes dare not peek' and 'where eavesdropping ears fear to listen' suggest a...hallowed...ground, such as a church or churchyard, or perhaps a meeting place kept locked up, where local legend surrounding it holds that the people that go there have strange rituals and do weird, sometimes blasphemous, things."

"Such as the legends surrounding the Freemasons and Knights Templar at various points throughout history."

"Yes, exactly."

"That, plus the recent history of this hunt and where it's led us, leads me to believe I know what we're looking for."

"Ian, I hope I'm thinking the same thing you are," Tanya said.

"Can anybody please fill the rest of us in?" Riley asked.

"If memory serves me, there's a lodge somewhere on East Brunswick. A little driving through the moors and you've reached it."

"So, it's in the middle of nowhere?"

"Not exactly. Last I checked, it was on the outskirts of a small village, and since buildings don't grow legs and walk away, it should still be there."

"Sounds like another trip to London," Abigail said.

NTNT

Riley's phone rang, and as he had the last time his phone rang in the Howe household, he stepped out of the room into a private place to take the call. "Yeah?"

"Hello, Mr. Poole. Miss me?" The President asked on the other end of the line.

"What do you want?"

"Tell me what you know, and we can get this over with and go home. Sound good?"

"Sure as hell sounds familiar."

"Okay, how can I make this a sweet deal for you? What do you want in exchange for the information you have?"

"Who says I want anything?"

"I just want to know what'll sweeten the deal for Riley Poole, that's all. I didn't know it was too much to ask."

Riley chewed his lip and bounced around a bit on the balls of his feet, looking at Ian's ornate Persian carpet. Some time later, he looked up again and licked his upper lip. "What do you hope to gain by all this? Why are you so interested in us solving this Page Forty-seven mystery?"

From the other end of the line came a low, chilling laugh, and Riley was forced to fight the urge to jump, or worse: run away screaming. "Ah, Riley, Riley, Riley. You ask too many questions for your own good, you know, but if you didn't, your book wouldn't be quite as successful as it is, not even close. All we're trying to do is find a treasure, and we can, too, if everyone cooperates. Now, tell me what you know, and maybe I'll throw in a little present once we get where we're going, eh?"

"Why should I believe you?"

"You're not gonna have a choice." The President's voice could only have been warm if Hell had frozen over.

The line went dead, and Riley snapped his phone shut and pocketed it.

"Riley, you don't...look so well," Tanya said from the doorway to the sun room. Her brow was furrowed and her face angled slightly away from him. "I can't say you've seen a ghost, because the only ghost I know of is in the sun room watching over Ian, so what is it?"

"It's...it's nothing," he said. "Just another talk with the President."

"And why does he keep calling you? My brother and I are the only Howes among us."

"I think there's more to it than that."

"You're afraid he's going to follow us?"

"Well, he might, unless we start talkin'."

"Talking? Talking about what?"

"He wants to know what we know."

"So he's definitely on our trail. The question then becomes..."

"Why?" Tanya and Riley said at the same time.

"Everything alright in here?" Ian asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, we're fine," Tanya replied.

"Just...talking...about...stuff," Riley added.

Ian just nodded and walked back into the sun room. Tanya gave Riley a look before following her brother, and Riley suspended his hands in midair for a moment before letting them drop to his sides. He, too, walked back into the sun room.

"What was that about?" Abigail asked.

"Stuff," Riley replied.

"Good stuff? Bad stuff?"

"Dunno."

"So, about London," Tanya said to the whole group.

NTNT

Powell walked into the kitchen just after the sun set. Phil and Viktor were already seated at the table, having a few drinks. "This thae, uh, unofficial henchmen's meetin'?" Powell asked.

"More or less," Viktor said, reaching behind him to grab another shot glass from the counter. He filled it and offered it to Powell. "Care for a shot?"

Powell accepted the glass and took a seat at the table. "I propose a toast," he said, "tae what's hopefully our last trip tae London."

"I'll drink to that," Viktor said. Phil nodded in agreement, and the three raised their glasses and then downed the liquor simultaneously.

"I dunno about you guys, but I'm hoping that when this is over, we can all go back to our lives," Phil said. "I'm gettin' sick of treasure huntin'."

"Yer not thae only one," Powell replied, leaning back in his chair. "Yae know what I think? I think they're more sensible about it this time around, sae maybe this could work out well."

"I hope so," Viktor said. "I dunno how long we can keep this up. Another drink?"

"Nae, thank yae."

Viktor just shrugged and filled his shotglass. A second later, it was empty again. Everything was normal, at least, for a day like that one, Powell thought. So far, so good.