Chapter Nine
Dead End?
Sarah: (gasp) It's Dr. Sno!
Meg: Our eighth grade science teacher? The guy who hates my guts because I told him that he made a mistake checking one of my tests?
(Dr. Sno approaches Ratigan)
JWJ: Oh crap...
At Number Fourteen, Gloucester Court
There lies what you seek
Beneath an emperor
And within another of the same
Safe and concealed
Here in the heart of London
Be cautious of where you tread 16
May you not go in haste, 1
I do not give a jumble of words 20
Or put this clue to waste 2
Use your brain, and what you've learned 8
On this crazy chase, 10
To find your longed for prize 10
And end this maddening race. 11
Use your native tongue, madame 20
The letters you learned from youth,
They will do better in solving this riddle
Than old Hebrew could do.
Basil pressed his fingertips together. "Interesting wording. Wouldn't you say so doctor?"
"Very extraordinary," Dawson agreed.
Following true to the last line of the first part of the clue, we were on a train headed to London.
Basil took out a pencil and paper and pointed to the paper that Dawson had copied the bell's clue onto.
"You copied it almost exactly as it was on the bell. Good work," Basil muttered. "All right, let's get down to solving the clue. We've seen the number sequence before. That will probably give us the location of Number Fourteen Gloucester Court."
Mrs. Butler looked as baffled as I felt. She cleared her throat. "Mr. Basil, it says right there, 'Number Fourteen, Gloucester Court. I know where Gloucester Court is."
"So do I," I said. "It connects to Rosebud Lane."
"No," Mrs. Butler said. "It's at the end of Second Street in Soho. Rosebud Lane is by St. Mary's Hospital in the East End."
"No, I know this specifically. I had a friend who lived there," I said shortly.
"But I have friends who live in Gloucester Court, and it's in Soho."
"That can't be right. I remember the sign for Gloucester Court in the East End. It sticks out in my memory."
"Mr. Basil, certainly my husband put the Eye of Diom in a better place than near Rosebud Lane. It has to be in Soho. Maybe he hid it with our friends. I wouldn't be surprised."
Basil tapped his fingers lightly against the window of the train. "This is why your husband was so brilliant in hiding these clues, Mrs. Butler," he said, smiling.
"So I am right?"
"No, you're most likely wrong."
"Most likely?" she questioned at the same time I said, "So I am right?"
"No, you're probably as far off as Mrs. Butler."
"But Mr. Basil, I know for a fact that Gloucester Court is in Soho!" Mrs. Butler said impatiently.
"But I know it's by Rosebud Lane," I said.
"And I don't doubt that both of you know a different Gloucester Court."
"What?" we asked in unison.
Dawson cleared his throat. "Sometimes street names are used more than once," he stated.
"What Dr. Dawson is trying to say," Basil explained, "is that there is more than one Gloucester Court in London."
"More than one?" I said, incredulous. "Well, then how many are there?"
"There are over fifty, if my memory serves me correctly."
"More than fifty?" Mrs. Butler mouthed. "Fifty?"
"Impossible! I've lived in London for almost ten years, and I never noticed any more than one Gloucester Court. Surely you must be joking!" I exclaimed.
"You see but you do not take the time to remember," Basil said matter-of-factly.
"How are we supposed to find Number Fourteen in fifty Gloucester Courts?" Mrs. Butler asked in a high-pitched voice.
Basil tapped the paper with the clue written on it. "This."
She bit her lower lip, as if trying to hold in an emotion.
"You remember the number sequence from the clue about Sophia Schintzhofer?" Basil asked gently. She nodded. "This is the same idea. We have to count out the sixteenth letter from the beginning for the first letter, one for the second one, twenty for the third, and so on. See, your husband was even kind enough to place the number next to the line it corresponds with."
"He didn't do that the first time," I said.
"Maybe he figured that we would get the number sequence mixed up with the first part of the clue."
"What is the first part for, then?"
"Butler probably meant for the second part to name some building on one of the many Gloucester Courts so we could find that building more easily. The first part probably tells us where in the building we will find the clue. Or, as this riddle suggests... the Eye of Diom."
Everyone watched with baited breath as Basil began to count out letters and write the answer on the spare piece of paper. No one could see what he was writing.
After the last letter had been copied down, Basil looked puzzled. He rechecked his counting. Finally he handed the paper to Mrs. Butler.
"Well, this is what I got."
I leaned over as Mrs. Butler scrutinized the paper. All I saw was R-M-W-R-B-Z-R-M-M.
"Is it scrambled?" she asked, but just as quickly corrected herself. "No, it wouldn't be, would it? All consonants and no vowels."
"Are these initials for something, like some secret society?" Dawson asked, taking the paper from Mrs. Butler to examine himself.
"Could be..." Basil said slowly. He held out his hand for the paper, which Dawson gave to him after quickly scanning it. The detective began to count some more letters.
"Secret society? No secret society would have that long of a title, would they?" I wondered aloud. "Would they Basil?"
"Perhaps the numbering was meant to go the opposite way," Dawson suggested. "Maybe we were supposed to start from the end of the line and move on to the left, instead of starting at the beginning of the line and moving to the right."
"That's what I had thought," said Basil, thrusting the results of his second counting into Dawson's hands.
"S-E-O-T-E-C-E-D-O?" the doctor read.
"That's a scrambled word!" Mrs. Butler said excitedly.
"That's not what Thomas Butler meant for us to find," Basil said.
"But the first group of letters didn't mean a thing," I said. "This group at least has vowels. This must be some word or name that we need!"
"Do you see the line, 'And end this maddening race?'" he asked, handing me the clue.
"Yes."
"Find the eleventh letter, going from right to left."
I counted. "It's D."
"And what about the tenth letter? Count that out for me."
I felt slightly irritated at his impatient tone of voice, but I did as he requested. "D again. So?"
"Why did Butler write number eleven, when he could just as easily written number ten?"
"I don't know. Maybe he liked the number eleven."
"He would have put number ten there instead of eleven."
"How do you know that?"
"It's simpler."
"Basil, there's no rule stating that when you have a choice between ten or eleven, go with ten."
He was getting just as impatient, but he was trying his best to hide it. "It's more logical that way."
I stared into his eyes, hoping to understand what he was thinking. He turned red and tried to avoid my gaze.
I sank into my seat, exhausted from lack of sleep and continually butting heads with Basil. Why was he not looking at me? I had thought we were over the silly childish stage of being bashful around each other. But it felt like the more intimate we got with each other, the more argumentative and secretive we became.
I remembered that we were on a case and quickly running out of time. I looked at the paper in my hands and studied the clue again. Who could make sense out of this one?
Little did we know that another mouse in another compartment was wondering the same thing.
He had copied the riddle down too, but could not get an iota of sense out of it. He glanced at the mouse sitting across from him. He had seen him somewhere recently...
That was it! It was that butler from the Manor. But what was he doing here? Why was he not with his mistress?
The mouse pulled his hat lower over his eyes. He did not want Luther to recognize him.
Meg: We interrupt the insane author's notes for this important announcement: Sorry for the delay in uploading this chapter. I did not have the riddle written when I wrote Chapter Eight because I wanted to put it in Chapter Nine, but every time I sat down to write Chapter Nine my heart wasn't into it. Long story. And if anyone is brilliant enough to figure out the riddle (it is solvable, but I definitely wouldn't be able to solve it if I had not written it) then you should be a code breaker for the Army or something.