The Secret at Jefferson's Mansion (4 page)

“Well, we were upstairs, and Dr. Spender and Mrs. Peeps were in his office,” Marshall said. “And we know Mr. Tea was in town. So there was no one left to see a crook sneaking in.”

“But, Marsh, the crook wouldn't know there was no one around,” KC said. “A stranger wouldn't know about the horses, either. Something smells funny, that's all.”

They found Mr. Tea working on the basement door. He had spread a tarp on the wet ground and was kneeling on it. The old lock was on the tarp near an open toolbox. Mr. Tea was pulling a shiny new
lock from its container. He held a thin screwdriver between his lips.

“Hello,” KC said as she and Marshall approached the man.

Mr. Tea dipped his head and muttered something that sounded like “Hiya.”

He took the screwdriver from his mouth and glanced at the kids. “They think I did it,” he said.

“But you weren't here,” KC said. “Dr. Spender said he sent you into town to buy that lock.”

“It was Pearl Peeps who sent me, not the doc,” Mr. Tea said. “So you're right, I wasn't here, but they still think I'm involved.”

Mr. Tea looked KC in the eye. “I love this place, respect it,” he said. “There is no way I would steal some old kiddie horses.”

KC remembered something. “Were you looking through the windows yesterday around noon?” she asked.

“I've enough to do around here without peekin' in windows,” the man said. “Besides, right after we locked the horses in the case, Mrs. Peeps reminded me to go into town for this lock. I stopped and had lunch with my wife before I came back.”

Mr. Tea placed the new lock into the hole left by the old one. “My wife will tell you the same thing,” he said. “I was ten miles away eating soup when the horses went missing.”

KC and Marshall left Mr. Tea to his job. “Come on, I want to check something,” KC said.

She walked around the building, stooping to look at the ground under the windows. “Yesterday I thought I saw someone looking through a window,” she said. “Whoever it was would have seen us put the horses in the case.”

“Well, if you're looking for the peeper's footprints, don't forget it rained last night,” Marshall said. “They'd get washed away.”

“Maybe not,” KC said. She pointed up at the roof. “The roof overhangs the edge
of the house. So the ground under it might stay dry.”

KC stopped under one window next to a shrub covered with red berries. “I think this is the window in the main room,” she said. Ignoring the wet grass, she got down on her knees. She moved the palm of her hand across the dirt. She felt a dent. “Look, Marsh!”

Marshall knelt down, too. “What am I looking at?” he asked.

“The ground is flat here, like someone walked on it,” KC said. “But look at this.”

She put her fingers in two deeper dents, closer to the building. “I think these holes were made by someone up on tiptoes,” she said. “The windows are high, so anyone looking in would have to stand on his toes!”

“You could be right,” Marshall said.
“But whose feet are they, and what was he looking at?”

“That's what we have to find out,” KC said. She stood up and walked to the other side of the bush. Behind it, a door was partly covered with branches.

“I wonder where this goes,” KC said.

“I bet we're about to find out,” Marshall said.

Marshall held the branches back while KC grabbed the black door handle and tugged. It opened to a set of stone steps leading down into darkness.

“Where's your flashlight?” Marshall asked. His voice sounded hollow.

“Upstairs in my backpack,” KC said. “Leave the door open so we can see.”

She started down the stairs, and Marshall followed. On the third stair KC
kicked something. It clattered down the steps.

“What was that?” Marshall asked.

“Something shiny,” KC said. She made her way to the bottom of the steps and groped around. “Found it!” she said.

It was a flashlight. KC clicked it on.

“Who would leave a flashlight here?” Marshall asked.

“Good question,” KC said. “But I'm happy they did.” She moved the light's beam around. They were in a small room. The floor was packed dirt, and old wooden shelves filled three of the walls.

“Are those wine bottles?” Marshall asked. He picked up an empty, dusty bottle and sneezed.

Suddenly the cellar door slammed.

“What happened?” KC asked.

Marshall ran up the steps and tried to shove the door open. It wouldn't budge. “We're locked in!” he said.

“Maybe there's another door.” KC shone the flashlight around the room. She saw only crumbling shelves and cobwebs. Then she noticed something else. Two of the shelves were missing. In their place was a narrow door. “Look, Marsh,” she said, pointing the flashlight beam.

Marshall hurried over and pulled the door open by its small round handle.

“It's the wine elevator!” KC said. “We must be right under the dining room.”

“We can yell and someone will hear us!” Marshall said.

“No, wait a minute!” KC said. She lowered her voice. “Whoever locked us in might be up there.”

KC shone the light on the shelf inside the little elevator. She touched the ropes. “Marsh, why is the elevator down here?” she asked. “When Mrs. Cross showed it to us yesterday, it was upstairs.”

“Someone must've sent it down,” Marshall said. “KC, the horses!”

“What are you talking about?” KC asked.

“I think the crook sent the horses down in this elevator!” Marshall said. “Whoever took the horses out of the case had to hide them fast, so he lowered them down to the basement.”

“Why do that?” KC asked. “Why not just walk out the front door with them?”

“Someone might be coming in and see him,” Marshall answered. “Or her. The question is, where are the horses now?”

KC aimed her flashlight beam at the old dusty walls. “The thief must have taken the chest out of here and hidden it somewhere else.”

“Right, because he knew the cops would search the building!” Marshall said.

“And whoever it was probably locked us in here,” KC said.

“So what do we do now?” Marshall asked. “Wait till your mom misses us?”

“No, she won't worry for at least an hour,” KC said. “And I sure don't want to stay here that long!”

KC stepped closer to the wine elevator. She studied the shelf and the ropes. “Marsh, do you think you could pull me up if I squeeze into this thing?” she asked.

“What?” he squeaked. “And leave me here?”

“Only for a minute,” she said. “I'll come back and unlock the door.”

“What if the bad guy sees you?” Marshall asked.

“If I see anyone, I won't say that we got locked in,” KC said. “I'll just pretend I'm fooling around with the wine elevator. You know kids, always getting into mischief!”

“Can you fit in there?” Marshall asked.

KC handed him the flashlight. Then she folded herself onto the little shelf. “Now try to haul me up. It's only about ten feet.”

Marshall set the flashlight on a shelf, grabbed the ropes, and gave a yank.

KC moved up about a foot.

“Hey, it's easy,” Marshall said. “Jefferson did something to make it real light.”

“Okay, pull me all the way up,” KC said. “And don't let go until you feel me get out
in the dining room. I'll be back soon.”

Marshall pulled on the ropes and KC slowly rose inside the wine elevator. Suddenly it was dark. She could see nothing. But she heard her own breathing, the whisper of the ropes, and the squeak of the shelf.

After a moment she bumped her head lightly. She had reached the top. She put her ear against the inside of the little door. She couldn't hear any voices, so she gently pushed the door open.

The dining room was empty. KC untangled her legs and stepped out of the elevator. She dashed out the front door and raced around the side of the house.

KC saw how the door had been locked. Someone had wedged a screwdriver under the handle. KC knew she had seen other
screwdrivers like it in Mr. Tea's toolbox!

She pulled out the screwdriver and yanked the door open. Marshall almost fell on her. “What took you so long!” he said.

“Why?” KC asked. “Did a spider scare you?”

“Ha!” Marshall said.

Just then they heard a car engine on the other side of the building. A car door slammed. Then a dog barked.

“That must be the detectives!” Marshall said. “I never met an FBI dog before.”

Before either kid could move, a figure came out from behind the building. The figure was tall, moving fast toward the thick woods, and draped in a long coat. KC couldn't see the face because of the fog. She couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.

“Come on, Marsh!” KC whispered. She grabbed Marshall's arm and dragged him toward the woods. A wide path led through the trees. Parts of it were covered in pine needles, but in most places it was raw mud.

Even with the fog, it was easy to see deep footprints. The kids hurried, following the tracks in the mud.

KC almost stepped on something furry on the ground. She picked up a wet, muddy wig and showed it to Marshall. “Recognize this?” she asked.

Marshall shook his head.

“William Randolph was wearing it an hour ago,” KC said. Suddenly she knew exactly where she had seen this Mr. Randolph before. And it wasn't in her book of presidents!

“What's going on?” Marshall whispered. “Why was he wearing a wig?”

“I'll tell you later,” KC said. “Come on!”

KC and Marshall jogged along the muddy path. The fog was as thick in the woods as on the lawn. At times, it was like running through clouds. Then the path got wider. Someone had planted shrubs and covered the path with shredded pine chips.

Marshall grabbed KC by the arm. “Check it out!” he whispered.

Straight ahead of them was a high black fence. Through the rails KC and Marshall saw tombstones. Fog clung to the stones.

“It's Jefferson's cemetery!” KC whispered.
“Let's follow the fence and see if we can find a way to get in. Stay in the bushes if you can.”

“Get in? Who wants to get in?” Marshall moaned.

“We do,” KC said. “I think William Randolph stole the horses and hid them in the cemetery. He must've thought no one would look here. But now that the detectives and their dog are here, he came to get them!”

Before long they came to a gate. The bars were thick black iron with spikes on the top. There was a padlock hanging from a chain, but it was unlocked. KC pushed the gate open. She prayed it wouldn't squeak.

It didn't. The kids crept through the gate. Suddenly KC stopped. She put her
mouth to Marshall's ear. “Listen!” Then she pointed to their right.

A figure was crouched under a tree. KC heard clinking and thunking noises and realized the figure had a shovel. He was digging.

“Oh gosh, it's a grave robber!” Marshall whimpered.

“No, it's William Randolph, horse thief,” KC said.

Holding her breath, KC inched closer. She drew Marshall behind a tall tombstone.

The noises stopped. KC peeked from behind the grave marker. Randolph was holding the chest of horses. He wiped it off with the sleeve of his raincoat.

They watched him pull a cell phone out of his pocket. His voice carried easily. “Hello, Yellow Cab?” he said. “Pick me up
on the road below Monticello. A big tip if you get here in five minutes! I'm going to the Virginia House bed-and-breakfast.”

The man turned and jogged toward the gate. KC and Marshall were well hidden behind the tombstone. When they could no longer hear his footsteps, they started after him.

“Why is he going there?” Marshall asked. “I don't get it.”