Chapter 14
Mike’s Confession
Nat woke with a start when the car pulled up in front of their house.
‘What the dickens?’ Mike burst out of the driver’s seat so quickly Elijah had to put the handbrake on for him.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Nat, rubbing her eyes.
‘Someone’s broken into our house!’ yelled Mike.
Nat leapt up the steps, clutching the box they’d found in the secret room. The front doors were wide open, and the place was a mess. Drawers had been pulled out and their contents emptied on the floor. The sofas were turned on their end and slashed. Every single cupboard had been opened. Mike stormed up the hall, and his bellowing told them the burglars had been in every room. Kathleen started to cry.
‘This is because of us,’ whispered Jack.
Nat nodded. Mike didn’t have any enemies; he was always helping people. And it was too thorough to be a random burglary.
‘Attic,’ said Jack.
As they sidled up the hallway, Mike came storming back down. ‘Bloody bastards,’ he yelled.
‘Did they take anything?’ asked Barnaby.
‘The TV’s still there, the stereo, computer. But they’ve trashed the place – it’s like they were looking for a needle in a haystack.’ Mike picked up the phone and dialled the police.
Upstairs, Nat and Jack could hear him yelling down the phone. They ducked past the hat rack and sidled around the old mattresses. Footsteps in the dust told them instantly they weren’t the first people up there that day, but the secret room looked intact from the outside. Jack motioned that he’d crawl in first. Nat stood in the gloom alone and fretted.
‘It’s clear,’ said Jack. ‘But check this out.’
Nat ducked through the squeeze. Written in the grime on the floor was a chilling message; ‘We will find it. Then we’ll finish you.’
Nat looked at Jack in horror. This was not a game any more.
By nine o’clock, they were snuggled in the kitchen with mugs of milo brimming with marshmallows. Mike had piled them on, explaining that in times of shock you needed more treats. Kathleen was curled up on the couch; she’d refused to sleep by herself in her room. The house had been put back together; Elijah and Barnaby had righted the couches and stacked crockery back into cupboards, while Riki had re-folded every towel and facecloth that had been thrown from the linen cupboard onto the floor. Laundry powders had been tipped out; wardrobes had been stripped. And still, no-one could find a single thing that was missing.
Now Nat watched her Dad force two more pink marshmallows into his mug.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘There’s something I have to get off my chest.’
Nat dunked a biscuit into her drink and held it out for Pi to peck at, but her ears were straining at attention.
‘There’s another side to the stories of Natalia,’ said Mike. ‘But it was only ever whispered. Partly because in hard times you don’t repeat silly stories; it’s difficult enough getting by.’ He shook his head. ‘People in the village were very cruel about my Grandpa’s tales. And partly because it had to do with witchcraft, and excuse me Riki, but some people know how to deal with that more than others.’
Jack had forgotten his drink; he was staring at Mike in amazement. He looked at Nat and she knew what he was thinking; their father had never talked about anything like this before.
Mike cleared his throat. ‘When my grandfather was young, his mother used to take him for walks across the farm. The story of Sinbad’s treasure was old even then; a magical chest hidden in a remote valley. There are treasure stories up and down this country, but they say that the Sinbad tale has always been local.
‘One day, they walked out to the cliffs at the end of the valley. My grandfather was shown a locked chest. A huge eagle landed, and his mother reached up and removed a key from the eagle’s neck. She unlocked the chest and opened it enough for him to see that it was full of precious gems. The key went back round the bird’s neck. Natalia spoke; it flapped its wings and disappeared.’ Mike leaned forward. ‘He remembered that the bird blocked out the sun. There’s only ever been one bird that big.’
‘The Haast Eagle,’ said Barnaby.
‘It wasn’t supposed to have lived in the North Island,’ said Elijah.
‘Or been alive a hundred years ago,’ added Mike. ‘My grandfather remembered everything about that day. But people told him he was a fool.’
‘It’s pretty far out,’ said Jack. ‘But from what you’ve told us, he wasn’t the lying type.’
Mike slurped at his marshmallows. ‘Nope, he wasn’t.’
‘I believe his story,’ said Riki. Mike stared at her. ‘It’s well known in our family that Rewi looked after a pair of eagles.’
‘So if the part about the bird is true – what about the rest?’ asked Elijah.
‘There’s nothing on the cliffs out there,’ said Mike. He glanced around before adding, in a much softer voice, ‘I’ve looked.’ Jack sniggered. ‘I have!’ he said. ‘When I’ve been rounding up sheep, I’ve checked a few places out. I know every inch of this farm – there are no treasure chests.’
Everyone swung their heads back to Riki. She grinned. ‘How much do you want to bet?’
‘Ten bucks,’ said Mike. ‘And it’s a wasted bet!’
‘Twenty,’ said Jack and Barnaby together.
‘You haven’t got twenty bucks,’ said Mike.
‘If Riki reckons it’s worth having a look, I’m in,’ said Elijah.
‘There’s nothing there,’ said Mike.
‘But the rumours persist!’ said Barnaby.
‘All rumours need is boredom and a bit of oxygen,’ said Mike. ‘When so many soldiers came back with Sinbad stories after the Great War, people figured Rewi must have been telling tales in the Middle East. They spread from there.’
‘And kept spreading,’ said Barnaby. ‘Right down to today, when a couple of guys ransack a house looking for clues to ancient treasure.’
‘The thing is,’ said Mike, ‘I might be the one to blame for that.’
‘How?’ asked Jack.
‘I told you about those shifty characters in the pub the other day. They were spouting all sorts of stories. So, thinking it was all fun, I spouted some back.’
‘Dad, no!’ Nat couldn’t believe it.
‘I was just being friendly – I told them about the secret room and some of the old tales.’
‘Which led them straight here.’ Jack shook his head. ‘Stranger danger, Dad.’
‘This time tomorrow they won’t be welcome anywhere in town,’ said Mike. ‘I apologise if this scared anyone. I’ll take full responsibility.’
‘Mr. Sheppard,’ interrupted Riki, ‘Do you know where your grandfather used to go walking on the farm?’
‘Vaguely,’ he replied. ‘He used to say; walk east down the valley, following the river until it drops along the boundary line and out of sight.’
Riki thought for a moment, and without anyone saying another word, hope seemed to creep back into the room. ‘I can make sense of that,’ said Riki. ‘I’d say that your grandfather was telling the truth all along.’