Pirate

  “Tibetot?” Remi asked. “What rumor is that?”

  “That the baron is said to have come into a sudden and unexplained fortune quite possibly because he found the king’s treasure on his land. Most historians discount that telling.”

  “Back to Robin Hood,” Sam said. “Is it possible that there’s some history relating to him that isn’t mainstream? Say, if he were to steal the treasure, would there be a place he might hide it? And any experts who might speculate on a location? Something called the four caverns?”

  “There are two experts in the area that I know of offhand. The foremost is the retired professor I mentioned, Percy Wendorf. Back in the day, I would have pointed you to him in a heartbeat. Now . . .”

  “Now?” Remi asked, wondering what he wasn’t saying.

  “Just . . .” He gave a slight shrug, before meeting Remi’s gaze. “My friend is—was—a walking encyclopedia of anything to do with Nottinghamshire and the Middle Ages, including Robin Hood, the castles, King John, and, well, anything else you could think of. Lately, though, Percy’s been . . . a bit forgetful. It’s why he retired.”

  Before Remi had a chance to comment, Sam asked, “And this other expert?”

  “Malcolm Swift. Knowledgeable, to be sure. Just lacking that obscure knowledge that Percy always seemed to have a handle on. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend either. Being a bit prejudiced in his favor, I invited Percy to join us so that you could meet him yourself. Knowing Percy, I probably should have had someone pick him up. Like I said, his memory is getting a bit spotty.”

  He looked at his watch, then took out his cell phone. “I’ll ring up his wife. He was supposed to meet her first, then walk over here after.” He made the call. “Agatha? It’s Cedric. Any chance Percy’s still there . . . ? I see. What sort of problem . . . ?” His brows went up as he listened. “No. We can drop by . . . It’s no trouble . . . Yes. I’ll ring you up as soon as I get there.”

  He disconnected, his expression one of concern. “Apparently he left a message for his wife that he’ll have to reschedule. Bit of a problem.”

  “What sort of problem?” Sam asked.

  “That’s just it. He didn’t say. She hasn’t been able to get ahold of him since. Doesn’t answer his mobile or his texts.”

  “We have a car,” Sam replied. “We’d be glad to give you a lift.”

  “Brilliant. Thank you.”

  Percy Wendorf lived about ten minutes from the university. Professor Aldridge, sitting in the backseat, leaned toward the center, pointing. “Just up there. Next turn.”

  But when they arrived, a uniformed officer stood at the intersection. “Sorry. Road’s closed,” he told Sam through the open window. Unfortunately, the road curved, and they couldn’t see a thing except a thick cloud of black smoke swirling up above the rooftops before disappearing into the dark clouds that threatened more rain.

  “What’s going on?”

  “House fire.”

  “We’re trying to get ahold of a friend who lives there. Can you tell us how long?”

  “No idea. Once they have it under control, they’ll open up again.”

  Which told them nothing. He looked back at the professor. “Sorry. I guess this is the best I can do.”

  “There’s a footpath through the park that should get us closer. I doubt they’ll have it closed off. And if they do, we can at least see what’s going on from up there.” He directed them to the next street up the hill, where they eventually took a paved footpath between two cottages that allowed the area residents access to a small playground situated across the street from Percy’s house—which happened to be the one burning. A number of residents had gathered in the park to watch the firefighters in action, and the three joined them. The house, a two-story brick structure, appeared relatively intact from the outside, the rising smoke lighter than it had been when they first arrived. Remi hoped the fire was out.

  A tall, bald-headed man with wire-rimmed spectacles stood off to one side, alone, watching the firefighters. Aldridge pointed. “That’s Percy.”

  Forty-nine

  Sam checked the neighborhood for any sign of Fisk and his men. Only then did he let the others cross over to talk to Percy Wendorf. The man stood, transfixed, as the firefighters traipsed through his yard, dragging their heavy hoses back to their firetrucks. “My pansies . . .”

  Professor Aldridge clasped his hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Flowers will grow back. At least your house is still there.”

  “I suppose.” He turned toward them, eyeing Sam and Remi.

  Aldridge introduced them and Sam shook hands with him, saying, “Wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

  “Agreed.” Percy gave a tired sigh. “Though they tell me it’s mostly contained to the kitchen and front parlor.”

  Sam watched the firefighters rolling up their hoses. “Did they give any indication on what started it?”

  “It just blew up. Flames shot out. Lucky I wasn’t any closer.”

  After several minutes, one of the firefighters walked over. “Mr. Wendorf?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll be finished shortly. A bit of a mess in there. Water and such. Do you have insurance?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Give them a ring. They can recommend who to send for cleanup.”

  “Very good.” He stared at his home, clearly still in shock.

  Sam, realizing that Percy wasn’t in any frame of mind to ask any important questions, stepped forward to address the firefighter. “Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any idea how the fire started?”

  “From what he described when we got here, it looks like a chimney fire. Creosote buildup.”

  “You’re certain?”

  The man removed his helmet and then pushed back his hood, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “Quite.”

  Definitely good news—as long as they overlooked the damage to his home. Even so, Sam wasn’t about to dismiss any involvement from Avery or his men until he saw the evidence himself.

  When they finally allowed Percy and the others into his home, Percy stood speechless, eyeing what was left of his parlor. The heavy scent of smoke hung in the air, and Professor Aldridge started opening windows. Sam walked over to the hearth, his feet sloshing in the wet, gray sludge on the floor. The initial burn marks appeared just outside the hearth, the stones blackened, the wooden floor adjacent to it charred. All that remained of an oriental rug was a dark, soggy mess beneath a charred upholstered chair, which sat several feet away from the hearth.

  The fireman was right, Sam realized. It appeared to have started at the fireplace and worked its way into the room from there. Though possible, he didn’t think Avery’s men would take such care in an arson to make it look as if it were the result of an accident.

  “Sam?” Remi stood in the arched doorway that led to the dining room. “There’s a to-do list,” she said quietly, “on the table. The first thing on there is to call the chimney sweep.”

  “That seems to be the clincher. Accident over arson.”

  “We can all breathe a bit easier.”

  “Except for the part about Nigel still being missing.”

  Remi glanced at Percy, who stood looking around at the fire damage, refusing to leave when Professor Aldridge tried to lead him from the room toward Sam and Remi. “If we’re going to ask him to help, he certainly can’t stay here,” Remi said.

  “No,” Sam replied. “We could put him and his wife up at our hotel. At least until this place is cleaned.”

  They posed the idea to Aldridge, who immediately declined the offer. “As generous as it is, I’m not sure that’s the best course of action for him.”

  Before he had a chance to explain, a woman, mid-sixties, walked into the house, then stopped just a few feet in as she looked around. Undoubtedly Percy’
s wife, Agatha. “Oh no . . .” She held her hand to her mouth as she took in the damage. “Percy. You didn’t light a fire, did you?”

  “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I left a note to call the chimney sweep. I told—” She gave a deep sigh. “Never mind,” she said, her gaze lighting on Sam, Remi, then Professor Aldridge. “I see you have guests.” She walked over, took Percy by the arm, and Sam was certain the sparkle in her eyes was from being near tears. “Let’s all go into the kitchen where it’s cleaner, shall we?”

  “Yes,” Percy said. “Good idea.”

  The look that passed between Agatha and Professor Aldridge told Sam that today’s fire was not totally unexpected. Aldridge eyed the wet floor. “I’ll go see if I can find a mop and broom and start sweeping out some of this water. First, I’ll introduce you to Percy’s wife.”

  They followed him into the kitchen. Percy was seated at the table. Agatha smiled at them as they walked in. “How frightfully rude of me for leaving you standing there. And with guests. I’m not normally this inconsiderate.”

  “Nonsense, Agatha,” Aldridge said. He turned toward Sam and Remi. “Percy’s wife Agatha.” As they shook hands with her, he said, “Agatha, this is Sam and Remi Fargo. They’re here looking for information on some archaeological artifacts, and, well, Percy was supposed to meet us. He never made it.”

  “Understandable,” she said, glancing toward her husband. “Normally, Percy’s very good with lists. Perhaps I should have written ‘Don’t light the fire’ and called the chimney sweep myself.”

  “I simply forgot,” Percy said.

  Agatha gave a tired smile. “I know.”

  “Maybe,” Aldridge said in a quiet voice, “it’s time for live-in help?”

  Agatha’s eyes glistened and she turned away, busying herself with the dishes in the sink. Eventually she took a seat at the table, giving another tired smile. “Rather like sitting around a campfire, what with the smoky scent all about.”

  Percy looked at his wife. “I forgot to call the chimney sweep.”

  “I see,” Agatha said, patting his hand and smiling at him. “So what sort of artifacts are you discussing, Percy?”

  “Artifacts?” Percy eyed Sam and Remi. “I . . . Aldridge? Are these the people?”

  “The couple I told you about.”

  “Right . . . We were supposed to meet. Slipped my mind. Almost burning down one’s house will do that.”

  “Indeed,” Aldridge replied. “But they’re here now.”

  “Yes,” Percy said to Sam and Remi. “I expect you’ll want to have a look for yourself.”

  Sam felt Remi tapping his foot with her own. “Maybe,” he said, “we should reschedule.”

  Remi gave a sympathetic smile. “You probably have enough on your plate right now.”

  “Actually,” Agatha said, “it’ll be best if he’s out from underfoot. I expect I’ll have a lot of calls to make while you’re all off doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “Very good,” Aldridge said. “It’s settled, then.”

  As they left the house and walked through the park toward their car, Sam told Remi quietly, “We’ll catch up to you,” then slowed his pace, signaling for Professor Aldridge to follow suit. Sam waited until Remi and Percy were out of earshot. “In light of Percy’s memory issues, maybe we should go with this other expert?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes,” Aldridge replied. “This is beyond his usual forgetfulness. But he seems to have more trouble when he is out of his element. When something happens to throw him off his game. Like starting a chimney fire.”

  “But if this other expert is willing to help . . .”

  “Maybe give Percy a chance. He lives for this sort of thing. And I know Agatha agrees with me. I ran it by her first. She’s the one who insisted. He’s happiest when he’s in his element, and the tunnels below Nottingham, well, are definitely his element.”

  “Is it possible he can just point us to the cavern entrance?”

  “I suppose so. Though he does enjoy walking through them. I’m sure that’ll be fine. In fact, I believe he’s mapped most of them out on some chart, if that’ll work.”

  “That’ll work perfectly.” Sam watched as Percy pointed something out to Remi in the hedge, some bird, as both started laughing when it flew off. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. “Let’s go find this chart.”

  Fifty

  Sam expected that Percy and Aldridge would be returning to Percy’s home, not to a shopping district in town.

  Percy directed Sam where to park. “The entrance is about a five-minute walk from here,” he said, leading them down a cobbled street past several storefronts. He stopped before a tailor’s shop. “The map’s in here.”

  Remi looked up at the sign. “You’re kidding.”

  Percy’s face lit up as he held open the door. “Quite unexpected, wouldn’t you say?”

  Remi then glanced around the shop. “I guess I was expecting something . . . different.”

  “The entire city is sitting on tunnels and caves. A lot to look through.”

  Apparently Percy was related to the owner, a second cousin, who was used to Percy’s unexpected visits. He walked them to the back of the store, then opened a door. A stone staircase led down to darkness, and Percy stood there a moment, eyeing it. “Don’t forget the electric torch on your way down.”

  Aldridge opened a nearby cabinet. Several flashlights stood on the shelf, and he handed one to each of them.

  They started down the stone steps, the temperature cooling as they descended. “This is my favorite,” Percy said, “the first I’d ever been in. I knew, from that moment on, I wanted to explore every one of them.”

  Sam brought up the rear, wondering exactly where it was Percy stored this map. “How many caves are there?” he asked.

  “Over seventy-five, and counting. Most have been lost due to building and garden encroachments. Others have slowly collapsed after eight hundred years. Sadly, few people even know they exist outside of those opened as an historic attraction.”

  “And this cave?” Sam asked, shining his light on the fairly smooth walls, noting that shelves had been carved into the side where things had been stored. “What was it used for?”

  “The previous shop owners used it as a wine cellar.” He led them through the cavern into a tunnel that opened into another wider space. “Hand-carved. Sandstone. Centuries before that, people lived in here. Actually, in caves all over the city. The entrances were carved aboveground to prevent flooding when the river overflowed. It’s all quite fascinating.”

  “One question,” Sam said when he realized this last cavern was a dead end. “What does this have to do with Robin Hood and your map?”

  “Robin Hood?” Percy turned a confused glance toward Aldridge. “I thought they wanted to see this one. Did I tell you it was the first one I’d ever been in?”

  “You did,” Aldridge said.

  Sam looked at Remi, who kept a bland smile on her face as she ran her hands along the cavern walls. He should have insisted they contact the other expert, especially after the incident with the fire. “We appreciate your bringing us here,” Sam said, “but we were hoping to learn about any caverns that have some connection to Robin Hood, King John, William the Marshal, and the four chambers.”

  “You mean the four caverns?” Percy asked.

  “I believe so,” Sam said. Percy’s recognition of the name had to mean they were on the right track. “Do you know where it is?”

  “It’s been a while, but I believe I can find it again. Don’t recommend it, though. Very dangerous. Places to fall. Wrong turns. There are so many better places to explore.”

  “But we love exploring,” Remi said slyly. “Maybe you could tell us how to get there?”

  “Getting toward midday, don’t you think? Haven??
?t had lunch.” He turned and started walking toward the outer cavern and the stairs that led up to the shop. “I feel as if I’m forgetting something but, for the life of me, can’t remember. Why do they want to go there?” he asked Aldridge.

  “They’re looking for historical artifacts.”

  “Ah, yes. Now I remember. Won’t find much there. A lot of tunnels to get lost in. And some Celtic carvings on the wall. That’s about it. Any artifacts are long gone.”

  As they followed him up the stairs, Sam asked Aldridge, “You’re sure this is a good idea?”

  “Don’t forget, Percy’s off his game today. The fire definitely rattled him. Naturally, if you’d rather go with that other expert, I’d be glad to call him for you.”

  “In this case, we’d better.” He didn’t want to count on the failing memory of a retired professor when it came to saving Nigel’s life and he pulled Remi aside and told her who Aldridge was calling.

  “I have to agree with you. Except . . .”

  “Except what?” Sam asked.

  “He did mention the four caverns and Celtic carvings. That fits right in with the four chambers that Lazlo mentioned and the Celtic knot on the cipher wheel. Which means he knows what he’s talking about.”

  “When he remembers what he’s talking about.”

  “It seemed to me he has more of a problem with his short-term memory. Since the caves are something he’s been visiting since he was a boy . . .”

  “It’s not so much that, Remi. We came here for a map and got a tour of a wine cellar. What if something else happens to him and we end up on another wild-goose chase? Bad enough we’ve gotten Nigel mixed up in all this. And, right now, our priority is to rescue him—never mind Percy has no idea of the danger. Which brings me back to my original concern.”