The entrance to the College of Arms was impressive. Huge iron gates, topped with gold leaf, opened onto a square courtyard. A huge stone staircase led up to a raised walkway. The doors were tiny by comparison and stood at either end of the walkway.
Neil gazed around at the simple but imposing brick building. He was hoping this was the right place, but now that they’d arrived, he wasn’t sure what to look for.
“So, where do we start?”
Larry pointed at the college. “We know all this was built after the fire, so if there’s any jewel hidden, it would have to be inside, with the stuff they saved from the old building.”
“This is stupid,” Neil said. “It’s the same as the Globe Theatre. If there was a jewel, they’d have found it in the rubble.”
Larry shook his head. “This is different. The Globe was a private building. So it was finders keepers in that case. This is government property and always has been. Anything found here would be property of the monarch. And we know this monarch doesn’t have it.”
“Tick, tock,” said Jones, pointing at his watch and marching past them through the gates. Traffic had been brutal, and Jones had grown more and more angry as their precious minutes flew by. Isabella followed him quickly and waved to them to follow. They hurried up the steps and through the door on the left.
There was a large wooden counter at the end of the hallway. A woman with horn-rimmed glasses sat on a high chair behind the counter.
“We’d like to see any files you might have on Shakespeare,” Neil said, walking up to her. “We have an appointment under the name Nakamura.”
Nakamura had agreed to pull some strings with his friends in the international police to get them an appointment to see the Shakespeare records. He had promised to stress both the urgency and secrecy of their investigation. Neil hoped he’d been successful.
“Ah yes,” said the woman. She took some keys from a drawer and stood up. “Follow me.” Neil breathed a sigh of relief. The woman led them down a bright hallway toward a pair of oak doors. “All the records you will need are in here,” she said, opening the door and then standing aside.
They walked in, and she closed the door behind them. There was a click as the lock reengaged. Neil looked around the room.
It was small and square and had only one window, which seemed to be sealed shut.
An oak desk sat in the middle with a number of boxes and files laid out on top. A pile of white gloves sat next to a leather-bound book. There was an electronic buzz and then the woman’s voice came through an intercom that was next to the door. “You are being monitored at all times. You have fifteen minutes. Then we will close for the day.”
“There’s a hundred documents here at least!” Neil said.
“There are a hundred here at least,” Larry corrected him. “So let’s get to work!”
Neil put on a pair of white gloves and carefully opened one of the boxes. Inside were a number of stiff papers. “They all look like property deeds, some notices of funerals, and lots of pages of drawings.” Neil scanned through the pages. He didn’t see anything that resembled a jewel or any of the other clues. “There’s definitely no treasure hidden in here.” He lifted the papers out of the box and shook it, in case there was a secret drawer or compartment.
The others weren’t having any better luck.
Jones had the actual Shakespeare application in his hand and was alternately reading it and holding it up to the light. “Lemons are often used to write invisible messages. Maybe Kemp hid something in the documents.”
Neil suspected he’d be able to pick up whatever trace of lemon remained on the pages with his nose, but he wasn’t sure, so he let Jones continue.
Isabella was searching through a list of deeds for land that was owned in and around Stratford. “These seem pretty straightforward. They list all sorts of people, but there’s no marginalia or added notes that might be from Kemp.”
Larry was looking through a number of books, but was also quietly taking pictures with his phone. “In case we think of something later that might tweak our brains.” Neil had to admit this was a smart idea, but he also knew the Crayfish brothers were only an hour and a bit from figuring out they’d been duped.
Ten minutes later they had gone through all the documents as quickly as they could. They’d set aside about twenty documents that they thought might be worth looking at, including the application for the Shakespeare coat of arms.
“Some potential clues, but no jewel,” Neil said sadly.
Neil looked at the Shakespeare coat of arms again, and again and again. Had Kemp hidden something on the document? How would he have done that anyway? It wasn’t like it was his family’s document, so why would they even have let him loo . . .
Neil ran to the door and hit the button on the intercom. “Hello, hello?” he said.
“Neil, what is it?” Isabella said.
“An idea, that’s all,” Neil said.
It seemed to take forever, but the woman’s voice finally crackled through the speaker. “May I be of assistance?” she asked.
“I’m wondering if there are any files for the Kemp family. Does the Kemp family have a coat of arms registered here?”
There was a pause and the sound of paper being moved. The woman seemed to be shuffling through something on her desk. “Well, yes there is, but it is from well before the dates you requested.”
“That’s okay. Can we see the application?”
“I’m sorry, but you only have one minute left before—”
“Please,” Neil said, fighting a rising sense of panic and the excitement of feeling he was on the right track. “It’s—it’s my grandfather’s family name, and I came all the way from Canada to see it. Please?”
“I’ve never heard Neil sound so humble!” Larry whispered to Isabella, just loud enough for Neil to hear.
The intercom crackled again. “Fine. I will bring some files to you, but I cannot stress again that you will only have a short time before we close.”
“Thank you!” Neil was grinning, but there was no guarantee that this was right. What if he was just wasting more time?
“I think it’s the final misdirection,” Neil said as they waited. “Kemp sends Shakespeare here looking for the jewel.”
Larry swirled his chair. “But it’s not hidden in the Shakespeare family papers . . . it’s in the Kemp family papers!”
“It’s the last reference from the key code. “ ‘Point thee to a finer robe’ also refers to Kemp’s family. He’s saying his family is better than Shakespeare’s.”
Larry and Jones said, almost at the same time, “Let’s just hope you’re right.”`
The door clicked and the woman entered with a dusty old leather-and-iron box. Neil couldn’t be sure, but it looked eerily similar to the picture of the box Lane had found buried in the ruins of the Raven Theatre.
She laid it down on the desk and unlocked the clasp that held it shut. The old lock creaked and groaned but, with a click, opened.
“I will give you two minutes,” the woman said as she walked back outside and locked the doors again.
Neil sat down quickly in the chair. “That’s all this should take.” He took a deep breath and then opened the box as carefully and quickly as he could with shaking fingers. The hinges were as tight as the claws of a live lobster. This box hadn’t been opened in ages, maybe centuries. He was sure of it. The jewel that had been waiting for Shakespeare, and that had then waited for centuries, was now about to be revealed.
Jones, Isabella, and Larry leaned over Neil’s shoulders in anticipation.
The hinges creaked and the lid reluctantly gave way. A musty odor reached Neil’s nose, and he had to turn his face away as the light from the windows reached inside the box.
Isabella gasped.
Larry made a sound like a falling bomb.
Jones gave a heavy sigh.
Neil looked back at the box. It was . . . “Empty?” The inside of the box was lined with a kind of purple silk, but that was it.
“Empty,” Jones said. He slammed his fist down on the table, sending the other papers jumping and then landing in a whiff of dust.
Neil shook the box. This couldn’t be. Was Shakespeare supposed to have felt the same anguish when he opened the box?
“Maybe Kemp laughed into the box and then closed it,” Larry said, banging his head lightly on the table.
“Or had second thoughts and took the jewel away?” Isabella suggested.
“Or someone got here first!” Jones waved his hand with such force it created a small breeze that passed over the empty box and carried with it just the faintest odor of . . .
“Honey?” Neil said. He sniffed again to be sure, jamming his face right into the box. Definitely honey! “There’s something else in here!” He began to run his fingers all around the inside of the box. Corner to corner and then up the seams. There was nothing. He smelled again. Was the smell coming from the lid?
Neil turned the box upside down and started to search the inside of the lid. A small knock revealed that there was a false lid with a compartment behind. “Yes! But where’s the latch?” Neil ran his fingers around and felt the smallest bump in the fabric.
There was a click, and the lid came apart.
“Is there a jewel?” Isabella asked.
“It’s another piece of paper,” Neil said, confused. “It looks like more poetry.”
Larry came over and looked. “Oh my . . . that’s not poetry. It’s a list of plays. And look at the bottom of the page.”
Neil and Isabella followed Larry’s finger to a scribbled signature.
Will Shaftsbpear
Larry just let out a low whistle. “The jewel isn’t a real jewel after all!”
Neil felt his hand shake. He was holding one of the most valuable pieces of paper in the world. A true Shakespeare signature was worth millions. He’d picked up enough of Rose’s conversation to figure that out.
“Now let’s find Rose,” Jones said.
Suddenly, the intercom crackled. “Mr. Kemp, I’m afraid that time has—wait, who are you? What?” There was a loud noise from somewhere in the background, followed by a scream and shouts and a very clear and loud “Run!” Then the intercom squawked and died.
Jones immediately took in the dimensions of the room and started to bark out orders. “Neil, secure the signature. Larry, shove that desk against that window. Isabella, formation two.”
“Formation two?” Neil said. In a panic he rolled up the precious jewel and stashed it in his coat pocket.
“You and Isabella need to have a serious talk,” Larry said, shoving the desk quickly against the wall.
Formation two seemed to consist of Jones standing on the table and then bending down to form a kind of human stepladder. Isabella climbed on his back and took what Neil thought was a tube of lipstick from her pocket. She flicked off the cap, then jammed the tip hard against the glass, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
“That’s some lipstick! Now you know what to get her for Christmas!” Larry said.
Jones took Isabella’s feet in his hands and then lifted her up. She gripped one edge of the sill and then pulled herself up and out.
There was a pounding on the door, followed by the rattling of keys.
“Hurry!” Jones said.
Larry ran over and Jones lifted him the same way.
There was a click in the door as whoever it was found the right key. Neil ran over to Jones. “Put your feet in my hands.” Jones said, lifting him up almost effortlessly. Neil grabbed one of the iron supports of the window.
“Jones, c’mon, take my hand.”
Jones waved him off. “First of all, you couldn’t lift my pinky finger. Second of all, you are going to need some time to escape.” Jones rolled up his sleeves. “I’m going to buy you that time with a few teeth, and they won’t be mine.”
The door slammed open and Neil saw two figures silhouetted in the entrance.
It was Cullen Skink, or Lord Lane, or whoever he really was. Behind him, partly in the shadows, was a woman. Was it Rose? Was it the woman from the front desk? Was it someone else?
“Get out of here!” Jones yelled before sprinting over to the figures. Neil took one look back and then jumped. He hit the ground and fell over, rolling on the hard stone. The impact sent the jewel flying. Neil grabbed it before the wind could take it and shoved it back into his pocket.
“Not very respectful of history,” Larry joked as he reached down and helped him up. “There’s a gate over there. Let’s go.” There was a low brick wall a short distance away, with scary-looking iron points on top.
“What about Jones?” Neil said. “He could get killed back in there.”
Isabella didn’t slow down. “Formation two. No questions,” she said. They sprinted over to the gate, and Isabella bent down to act as the stepladder this time. Neil and Larry jumped over, and then Isabella jumped up, grabbing an iron bar. Neil stood on top of Larry on their side and helped pull her over.
They landed in a heap, with Isabella smack on top of Neil.
“Ouch!” Isabella said, her chin banging into Neil’s forehead.
“I think I broke a rib!” Neil said, gasping for breath and grabbing his side.
“That move always looks more romantic in the movies,” Larry said.
“Never believe what you see in a movie,” Isabella said.
“No kidding,” Neil said, getting to his feet with a grimace. They ran off down the street.
“Where to now?”
“I think it’s time we had a meeting with the Queen,” Neil said. “To go over the menu.”