The Adventure of the Travertine Nose-- Part XI

Suite at Rackrent

You are baffled as to how the Adams Family butler got your bag to your room before you. He didn’t pass you on the stairs. But, forget that. Your suite is fantastic! Fantastical is a better word. The stone floors are scattered with jewel-colored Persian rugs. Massive wooden buttresses cut across the ceiling, and a gossamer canopy spills from one of the beams like a turquoise waterfall behind the massive oak bed. There are actually a set of stairs beside it, which you will certainly need. Built-in bookcases line all four walls, even framing the fireplace. The bird-of-paradise wallpaper starts far up the wall, where the bookcases end. The double doors between your bedroom and bathroom are paned with ruby-colored glass.
“Excuse me, Madam,” the butler/driver startles you. He deposits the boxes from your shopping adventures on a low table.
“I’m sorry, but do you have a name?” you ask. “I feel strange not calling you anything.”
“Calling me, Madam? There’s a bell on the mantle…”
“Addressing you, I mean.”
“Roy, Madam. The name is Roy.”
Easily enough to remember. Not a Jeeves or a Raffles, or Baffles or Ruffles. Just Roy. He bows and exits, closing the doors behind him.
A library ladder is propped up against one wall. You can see there’s a track on which you can hook and slide the ladder. You can that on top of the bookcases, there are numerous bell jars containing taxidermy animals—it’s a virtual menagerie of stuffed birds and forest folk, who seem to be pausing simultaneously in the act of collecting nuts, sparring, foraging. You get the sensation that time is standing still. Will the presence of all of those bared canines affect your sleep? Will you dream of your travertine god fighting with a mongoose or a pterodactyl? Shivering, you glance to the table and wonder which of the boxes your black dress is in. You can hear some overindulgent singing wafting up from below—no doubt Lady Rackrent. As she sings, the bell jars rattle on the shelves and suddenly the room seems alive; the perfectly-preserved creatures might very well liberate themselves at any moment from the library shelves.
“Here you are, Madam,” a voice says behind you.
“Oh! Christ, Roy. You startled me.”
“Ray, Madam.”
“Sorry. I mean thanks.”
He deposits two more boxes on your bed and closes the doors behind him. Your heart is hammering so wildly, it might tear a hole through your tweed jacket. You’re shaking terribly. You ball up some firewood and ball up scraps of a newspaper you have no intention of reading. Fire devours the newspaper the moment you light the match. Probably you should have rung for Roy. Ray. But he’s so—startling. It burns beautifully. The hearth is an inferno. So why are you still shivering? You stop again to collect more wood from the pail and notice something odd; there’s a weird cut-out shape hiding beneath the rug. You lift the corner of the rug and spot a mismatched square stone in the otherwise slab floor. The stone has a brass circle pull on it. The hardware looks ancient and the stone looks like a back-breaker. But could this be a trap door?
You can’t help yourself. You grab the ring and pull. Then you realize you’ll need to stand to get leverage. Standing, you yank the stone as mightily until it gives—at the very moment that several of your vertebrae reposition themselves in your spine. You’re in pain, but you’ve done it! You’ve discovered a trap door. You snatch the candle from the little shepherdess statue and shine it into the cavern. All you can see is steps.

Can you stomach another slippery descent into the netherworld? If your curiosity can’t wait… and you trust the look of that trap door, then hold that candle tightly and down you go. Choose ‘A’.

But wait a minute. If you wait to tell Basil about your discovery, then he’ll surely want to come and you won’t have to go alone. Nor will you have to take a candle when he’s got a flashlight. That’s what you’ll do… you run the bath water and dance around in a lather of anticipation. Choose ‘B’.