The Iron Door (Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries Book 8) by Bill Thompson

Author:Bill Thompson [Thompson, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ascendente Books
Published: 2022-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

As it turned out, object number 1644 was gathering dust in a storage room at the Smithsonian. A courier brought it to the White House at eight the next morning, and soon it stood on an easel in the Treaty Room. Frederic Remington painted the sixteen-by-twenty-inch work in 1893, and today it hung in an ornate gilded frame. They had seen the image on the sheet—Comanches on horseback chasing a pack of timber wolves—but the photo didn’t do it justice. The painting was a stunning piece, and they marveled at the artist’s attention to detail.

Nicole was already at work, leaving Jennifer, Harry and Brian to appreciate it, but the men were more interested in what secrets it might hold. Brian read the first line of the relevant stanza aloud.

Four four six one has frame and glass, and something hid—a needed clue to find the pass.

“There’s a frame but no glass,” Brian remarked the moment the delivery person dropped it off. He turned it over and found a backing of cardboard with an identification sticker from the Smithsonian. It was held together by small brads tacked into the frame on all four sides.

Harry said, “The next line refers to wings in the air inside the frame that protect a secret. We need to remove the backing. Maybe there’s glass underneath.”

“Think we’re breaking any laws?” Brian commented as they carefully removed the tiny nails from around the frame.

“Breaking and entering, I guess.” Harry grinned. “But for God’s sake, let’s don’t damage that painting. Destruction of public property—especially a Remington—might be a little hard to explain away.”

Brian slipped a knife blade under one side of the cardboard and slowly raised it. Beneath lay a surprise, another painting maybe a quarter the size of the Remington that was simply a sketch in ink—an eagle taking flight above a rugged cliff—drawn on a yellowed piece of paper and affixed to a thin piece of glass to protect it.

“Wings in the air inside the frame,” Harry whispered. “I can’t believe it. Wonder what secret the wings protect?” He turned the sketch over, but the back was blank.

“I think that’s the secret,” Brian said, pointing to something in the sketch. “Look closely under the eagle’s wings. See how it’s rising in the air above a cliff? What’s that?” He pointed the tip of the knife blade at a small black dot on the face of the cliff near where two mountains converged.

Harry squinted at it. “Do you think that might be a cave?”

“I don’t think. I’m absolutely certain of it.”

They took pictures of the hidden artifact before replacing it and the cardboard backing. Then Harry demanded answers, leading Brian to the sitting area by the fireplace.

“I haven’t been entirely forthcoming about what I’ve learned,” Brian began. “I was waiting to see what secret was hidden in the painting, and it only corroborated my theory. I know what the poem means because I deciphered it. I want Nicole to hear this too. When we gather for cocktails this evening, I’ll tell you everything.

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