Free Second Sight by Amanda Quick Page B

the many disturbing items in the society’s collection that she had photographed. It was not difficult to recall the strongbox.
    “I remember it,” she said. “You said that it wasn’t considered particularly valuable but what about the gold in the lid?”
    He shrugged. “It is only a thin sheet.”
    She cleared her throat. “No offense, Mr. Jones, but such things are relative. Gold is gold, after all. The box may have appeared far more valuable to a poor, hungry thief than it does to you or the other members of the society.”
    “A thief intent only on financial gain would have tried to take one of the smaller, gem-encrusted artifacts, not a box so heavy it requires two men to lift it.”
    “I see what you mean,” she said slowly. “Well then, perhaps the thief assumed there was something of great value inside the strongbox.”
    “The box was empty and unlatched because the object that had once been housed inside was stolen several months ago.”
    “Forgive me, Mr. Jones, but it would seem that the society has a rather serious problem guarding its antiquities.”
    “I must admit that lately that does appear to be the case whenever I’m involved.”
    She elected to ignore that strange remark. “What was originally stored in the strongbox?”
    “A notebook.”
    “That’s all?”
    “Believe me, I am as puzzled as you are,” he said. “Let me explain. The box and the notebook it protected were part of the contents of a secret laboratory built by a notorious alchemist who lived in the latter part of the seventeenth century. The alchemist died inside his hidden room. The location was lost for two centuries Eventually the laboratory was discovered and excavated.”
    “How was it discovered?” she asked.
    “Two members of the society succeeded in deciphering some coded letters that the alchemist wrote shortly before he disappeared into his laboratory for the last time. In the letters there were hints and clues that were eventually pieced together.”
    “These two members of the society you just mentioned,” she said. “Were they the ones who excavated the laboratory?”
    “Yes.”
    “One of those two people was you, wasn’t it?” she guessed.
    He stopped his restless prowling and looked at her. “Yes. The other man is my cousin. We were inspired to carry out the project because the alchemist is a family ancestor. He also happens to be the founder of the Arcane Society.”
    “I see. Go on.”
    “The alchemist was convinced that he possessed some psychical talents. He spent years working on a formula to enhance those abilities. He was, in fact, obsessed with his research. He indicated in some of his last letters that he was close to perfecting his formula.” Gabriel moved one hand slightly. “My cousin and I suspect that was what was in the notebook that was stolen out of the strongbox.”
    “For heaven’s sake, what person with any common sense would be so foolish as to believe that an alchemist who lived two centuries ago had actually developed a formula for enhancing psychical talents?”
    “I don’t know,” Gabriel said. “But I can tell you this much. Whoever he is, he was willing to kill for that damned formula.”
    Another chill iced her spine. “Someone was murdered because of this ancient notebook?”
    “One of the workmen who helped pack the crates containing the contents of the laboratory was evidently bribed to take the notebook out of the strongbox and deliver it to someone. The workman’s body was later found in an alley. He was killed with a knife.”
    She swallowed hard. “How dreadful.”
    “My cousin and I spent a considerable amount of time trying to find out who had bribed the workman and murdered him but the trail went cold almost immediately,” Gabriel continued. “Then, three months ago those two men came to Arcane House and attempted to steal the strongbox.”
    “I don’t understand. It the thief already possesses the alchemist’s notebook, why would he take