At the bottom was what had once been the cellar, about eight feet wide and six feet from the steps to… a heavy wooden door? Shelving remnants hung on both sides of the space where produce and preserves would have been stored. But it was the door that interested Harry. At this point, he decided he should be sharing this with Ms Harris and retraced his steps.
“A bunker?” she repeated, her eyes wide with surprise. “Why would anyone have a bunker around here?”
“I hope we’ll find some answers when we open that door. Are you ready?”
She nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Harry had brought a couple of portable emergency lights which provided plenty of light as they looked around. The longest wall, opposite the door, was lined with shelves that were overflowing with books and notebooks, and there were boxes of files on the bottom shelves. There was an old table at one end, which apparently had served as a desk, while a wooden rocking chair, a side table, and a reading lamp occupied the other end. Ms Harris started inspecting the books while Harry examined what was on the ‘desk.’
“Oh, my stars!”
Harry looked up. “Did you find something?”
“Mr. Hogan, from what I can tell, these are all first editions, and some of them are very old, even back to Charles Dickens.”
“I guess Young had a reason to be paranoid about them.”
“Oh, yes indeed. Some of these are priceless and it all belongs to any living descendants of the Youngs. We must try to find them.”
“They had no children.”
“Perhaps nieces or nephews…”
“That’s always a possibility,” Harry agreed. “I’ll get Bertie on it when she gets home in a couple of days. She’s good with that sort of thing, researching and following leads on the Internet. But this still doesn’t solve your problem.”
“You’re right, of course.”
“We need to narrow down the nights and times and, hopefully, catch them here, whoever they are.”
She nodded. “You’re in luck. This is Thursday, and they should be here around ten tonight.”
“Good. I’ll be waiting for them.”
“Would it be okay if I wait with you?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “If you want to, I guess. It’s cold down here and maybe a bit damp so be prepared.”
“I’m curious about who they are and what they’ve been doing. I will see you later.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shortly after ten that night, Harry was sitting at the desk and Ms. Harris was in the rocking chair when they heard footsteps approaching. She switched off the small light she held. Meanwhile, Harry had the end of a rope in one hand while the other was poised over the switch of a portable floodlight.
The door creaked open and Harry counted seven cell phones coming into the room. When they were all inside, he gave the rope a quick yank and the door shut behind them.
Low voices whispered, “What was that?” and “Who shut the door?”
Then it sounded like all five said: “Not me.”
And then… “Someone’s in here… who’s here?”
Harry hit the switch and seven people blinked as the powerful light hit their eyes, temporarily blinding them. Harry stepped behind them, blocking any chance of a quick escape. “What do we have here? Underage drinkers? Illegal drug users? Ghost hunters? What mischief are you up to?”
