THE HIDDEN KEY

Mystery of the Hidden Letter

Gilford paused on the landing and turned towards his father's room...the door had been forced off its hinges and lay splintered across the floor. He glanced in; the bookcases had been pushed over, the round table in the middle of the room had been overturned and the floor was covered with books.

As he slowly approached the doorway. His stomach began to harden while he gazed around. Who could have done this...and for what were they searching?

He hurried into the room and stopped before picking a book up from the floor. His gaze narrowed while he stared at the cover before he opened it...a folded piece of paper cascaded from the pages. Why was this inside the book? Could this be what they were searching for? No...why would they be looking for a letter? Unless...

Glancing back across his shoulder towards the doorway, he opened the letter and started to read it. Who was my father supposed to have met? What's so important about the key that the person wanted to speak to my father about?

He turned and made his way across the room, stepping over the books while clutching the paper in his hand as he glanced around the room. Did my father write something about the key in one of his other books...if he did, which book was it? He paused for a moment, glancing at the letter. Who were they trying to keep the key from, and what did it have to do with my father?

Gilford folded the letter and turned towards an old wooden scribe desk in the corner of the room and tapped his lips with his finger. No...he wouldn't have kept a book inside his desk...or did he? He rushed over towards the desk, opened the lid, and peered into the compartment, hoping to find another one of his father's books inside...but there was nothing except for an empty inkwell with an old goose feather quill poking out of it with dust and cobwebs that filled the air making him cough.

He turned away, sighing deeply while shaking his head as he made his way back towards the doorway. I need to find the person who wrote the letter. But I don't even know where to start. As he walked outside the room, his friend, Raveil came up the stairs.

Raveil paused...eyeing up the piece of paper in Gilford's hand. "What is that?"

"It's just some old notes that my father left me." He stared at Raveil. "How come you're not down at the tavern?"

Raveil crossed his arms. "You were supposed to have met me there."

"Really? When did I say that?" Gilford crossed his arms.

"This morning." Raveil arched his eyebrows. "Or don't you remember?"

Gilford gazed at Raveil. "I didn't see you this morning."

"Then if it wasn't you..., who was it? Raveil slowly uncrossed his arms and walked towards Gilford.

"Maybe it was someone pulling a prank." Gilford laughed and turned away, gazing back inside his father's bedroom at the carnage the intruder had left. Where can I find the person who wrote the letter? He turned back to Raveil. "What are you doing now?"

"I'm planning on heading home. What are you going to do?" Raveil stared at Gilford and raised his eyebrows, still eyeing up the piece of paper he was holding. "What was the note about?"

"Oh, nothing important." Gilford scrunched the paper up in his hand. "Just a list of jobs that needed doing, but I've done most of them now."

Raveil nodded and turned away. "I'll see you later if you're not busy."

"We'll have to meet up for a pint." Gilford smiled.

"I'll speak to you later." Raveil glanced back at Gilford as he started to make his way down the stairs.