Griffin of Darkwood (15 page)

“I wish I’d been there!” cried Emma. “Tapestries and a griffin! It’s gotta have something to do with the curse.”

“That’s what I think,” said Will. “I’ll show you tomorrow. You’re not going to believe it!”

“Madeleine de Luca’s staring at us,” said Thom.

Emma and Will talked in whispers, making plans, but Thom was silent, his eyes dark with worry.

“You three look very secretive,” said Star, coming up to them with a smile. “It’s time to go now, Emma. Granny Storm’s getting impatient.”

John Fairweather looked exhausted and Thom said, “I better go too.”

After his friends had gone, Will hung around until only a few people were left, looking at books and chatting with Vespera. He was bursting to talk to Favian about his discovery.

Favian was talking to a man in a black
suit. Will caught scraps of the conversation. The man said, “This is the perfect place to hold readings…tremendous atmosphere…I could organize a series of famous authors and poets…”

When the man paused for a breath, Will said, “Favian, can I talk to you?”

Favian frowned. “Good heavens. Are you still here? I’m busy right now. It will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“It’s important,” said Will.

But Favian turned back to the man. “I’m intrigued by the idea. We could start –”

“Favian,
please
.”

It was hopeless. Favian didn’t even hear him.

Will walked through the dark village to the castle. When he got back to the tower, he scrambled up on the bed and pulled himself through the trap door and onto the roof. Stars twinkled overhead and the night air was cool on his cheeks.

Suddenly a light flickered in the ruined courtyard, crisscrossing back and forth.

He watched the light bob in front of the keep. After ten minutes, the light moved back across the courtyard and disappeared.

Mr. Cherry
, thought Will, his stomach tightening.

Only a pile of fallen stone separated Mr. Cherry from the magnificent tapestries in the great hall. Was he after the tapestries? Did he know about them?

Only a pile of fallen stone. Was it enough?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Thieves!

In the morning, Will slipped
his scrap of tapestry into his pocket and left the castle.

“Where are you going?” shouted Thom from his window as Will passed underneath.

“To talk to Favian.”

“Wait for me!”

A
Sorry We’re Closed
sign hung on the bookstore door, but Favian opened it when Will knocked and they went inside.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Will burst out.

At that moment, there was another urgent knock on the door.

“Who on earth?” Favian opened the door again and stuck his head out. “I’m not open yet. I came in early to clean up from the poetry reading last night.”

A woman in a charcoal suit and crisp white blouse, carrying a brown leather briefcase, stood in the doorway. “Just a few minutes of your time,” she said. “It’s terribly important.”

With a sigh, Favian opened the door wider and ushered his visitor in.

“I’ll get right to the point.” She set her briefcase on the rolltop desk. “My name is Kate Winters. I’m a private investigator. I’ve been driving all night. Nothing looks open, but I saw your light on. I’ve been trying to locate a couple called Chadwick and Charmaine Neale for four years. They’re a pair of international art thieves. There’s a warrant out for their arrest.”

She opened the briefcase and removed a large photograph. Favian peered at it and Will and Thom sidled closer so they could see too. The photograph was of a man with glasses and a moustache and woman with long blonde hair walking down a street.

“This photograph is twelve years old. When it was taken, they were going under the aliases of Cheryl and Chauncey Turner,” said Kate. “They were the housekeeper and gardener at Langton Hall. The police arrested them for stealing eighteenth century watercolours. They spent four years in Stonewall Prison.”

She took out another photograph of a black-haired woman and a bearded man and slapped it down. “Charles and Christine Renshaw. Same people. They’re masters of disguise. Employed as a housekeeper and chauffeur by a spinster called Esma Jameston. She collects rare hand painted music boxes.”

“Let me guess,” said Favian. “They stole them.”

“Sentenced to fifteen years. Escaped from Stonewall in a laundry truck after serving six years. No one’s seen them since.”

Will stared at the photographs.

“What does this have to do with us?” asked Favian. “Have the police hired you to look for them?”

“Esma Jameston has. She wants her music boxes back. I was hot on the trail until a few weeks ago, and then it went cold. Until yesterday. Esma’s nephew was here on a bus tour. He said he’s positive he saw Chadwick Neale. He would have followed him but he disappeared down one of those funny little streets. Called something like Shadow Alley.”

“It’s the Cherrys!” said Will. “In the photographs. I saw Mrs. Cherry once without her wig, washing dishes. I thought it was a stranger with long blonde hair.”

Favian took a closer look. “I believe you’re right!”

“I presume Sparrowhawk Hall is a lovely old estate full of rare art,” said Kate.

Favian shook his head. “Actually it’s mostly a ruin. There’s some ghastly family portraits and that’s about all. I have no idea what the Cherrys could be after.” He tore his eyes away from the photographs. “What happens now?”

Kate slid the photographs back in her briefcase and snapped it shut. “Nothing. We don’t want to alert them. I’ll contact the police at once.”

“The nearest detachment is in Chipping,” said Favian. “They won’t get here until tomorrow.”

“Everyone must stay away from the castle,” said Kate. “The Cherrys are dangerous.” She looked sternly at Thom and Will. “Do you understand that?”

The boys looked at each other and nodded.

Will waited until Kate had left. “The castle’s not just full of family portraits!” he said. “There’s three huge tapestries! They’re in the great hall.”

Favian stared at him. “Tell me everything. No, wait a minute. Vespera will want to hear this too.”

He used the phone behind his desk and in ten minutes Vespera appeared, her frizzy hair blown every which way and her cheeks rosy. “There’s going to be a storm,” she said. “Thunderclouds are building up over the hills. Now what’s this all about, Favian?”

Favian filled Vespera in on Kate Winter’s visit. “So the Cherrys are crooks!” she said. “I never liked the look of them!”

“And now your turn, Will,” said Favian.

Will poured out his story. “The tapestries are amazing,” he finished. “You’ve got to see them!”

“To think of you in that secret passageway,” said Vespera. “You’re giving me goosebumps.”

“You’re a brave young man,” said Favian.

“There’s gotta be a fourth tapestry,” said Will. “They tell a story, but the story’s not finished.”

“But a fourth tapestry,” said Favian. “If there was one, why wouldn’t it be there with the others?”

“I don’t know,” said Will, “but I know it existed. I’ve got a piece of it.” He took the scrap of tapestry out of his pocket.

“How on earth did you get it?” asked Favian.

“It was with a picture of my grandfather Sterling Moonstone,” said Will.

“Your grandfather was Sterling?” said Vespera.

“We just found out,” said Favian.

“Do you think that Morgan Moonstone wove the tapestries?” said Will.

“What an astounding idea!” said Favian.

“That would mean that they’re magic!” said Will. “It’s because of Hannah I found the tapestries. No one’s ever told me what really happened to her.”

“She disappeared,” said Vespera. “She was missing for a day and a night. Lord and Lady Linley were frantic. She was found wandering in the forest near the castle. She was delirious. She babbled on about a secret passage and tapestries. We always thought there was more, something she wasn’t telling us. She was so very ill.”

Vespera squeezed Favian’s hand. “We were best friends, you see, the four of us. Favian, myself, Sterling and Hannah.”

“And then what happened?” said Thom.

Vespera said softly, “Hannah slipped into a coma and died. Shortly after that Lord Linley boarded up the castle and he and Lady Linley moved far away. That was over forty years ago. We were all so surprised to hear that the castle was for sale.”

“Do you think Hannah saw the same tapestries that Will saw?” asked Thom.

“Yes,” said Vespera. “And somehow she ended up in the forest, lost and desperately ill.”

“Now what happens?” asked Will. “The Cherrys are after the tapestries. I know it!”

“Once the Cherrys have been arrested, I’ll arrange a bulldozer to move that rubble blocking the front doors to the great hall,” said Favian. “The tapestries are national treasures. They should be preserved. And in the meantime, we’ll just have to wait for
the police.”

“I pray they’re not too late,” said Vespera.

“Let’s go tell Emma,” said Thom.

“Just remember what Kate said,” Favian cautioned. “Stay away from the castle.”

Thom shivered. “I never want to see the castle again.”

“That’s fine for you to say, Thom, but I live there,” said Will.

“You can stay with me or Vespera tonight, Will,” Favian said.

Will and Thom left the shop.

“What if Mr. Cherry goes into the tower and finds the secret passageway?” asked Thom.

“I moved the stone back,” Will told him. “If you didn’t know it was there, you’d never see it. I only found it because of Hannah’s note.”

He clamped his hand over his pocket. “Hannah’s note! It’s gone. I must have dropped it somewhere.” He groaned. “What if the Cherrys find it?”

Thom’s eyes widened.

“I have to go back,” said Will.

“You can’t. Kate said the Cherrys were dangerous. We promised not to go to the castle.”

“We never promised anything,” said Will. “I have no choice.”

Thom’s face turned white. “Then I’m coming with you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Trapped

Will and Thom raced across the courtyard.
Ominous black clouds darkened the sky, making it feel like evening. They met Emma and Peaches outside
The Winking Cat
.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” said Emma.

“We’re going to the castle!” said Will. “The Cherrys are trying to steal the tapestries.

They quickly filled Emma in.

“I’m coming too,” said Emma. “Safety in numbers”

When they got back to the castle, the pink van was parked in its usual spot in the weeds. Were the tapestries inside? Had the Cherrys somehow managed to drag them through the secret passageway? They tried to peer through the windows, but the glass had been smeared with mud and they couldn’t see anything.

“We need to sabotage the van,” said Emma.

“Nails,” suggested Thom. “We could stick them in the tires.”

Will remembered seeing a rusty can of nails in the old shed. He ran and got them, and he and Emma jabbed them into the tires while Thom acted as the lookout.

Will’s heart thudded as they climbed the spiral stairs to his tower. There was no sign of the note. Was that a faint smell of garlic?

He wouldn’t relax until he saw that the tapestries were safe on the walls of the great hall. “We’re going in!” he said. “Help me move the bed.”

When the bed was under the stone sparrowhawk, Will said, “Watch this!” He climbed onto the bed and pushed the bump in the sparrowhawk’s beak. The stone slab swung backwards.

“Wow!” said Emma.

Thom’s eyes popped wide open. One by one they climbed through the hole in the wall.
“Hooo-whooo-hooo,”
howled Peaches from the middle of the bed. Emma leaned down and hoisted him up, his paws scrabbling on the stone wall. She dragged him through the hole and he followed them down the steep cobwebby staircase.

Will shone the torch ahead into the gloom. When they got to the bottom, he said, “We’re going this way.”

“Where does that go?” said Emma, pointing up the other tunnel.

“Don’t know.”

No one spoke as they walked along the narrow passage, ducking their heads at the low places. They went up the four steps cut out of the rock and down the long slope.

“We’re under the ruins now,” said Will. “We’re coming to the keep.”

Two more corners and his torch beamed onto the rough steep steps set into the stone wall. They climbed up slowly. Will opened the door at the top, and one by one they scrambled into the enormous room.

Daylight from the narrow windows shone on the great tapestries. Will’s shoulders sagged with relief. “They’re still here.”