Free December by Gabrielle Lord Page A

really means?’
    Unimaginable treasure and wealth . The phrase, so similar to my dad’s, repeated itself in my mind. No wonder everyone was after it. Was that the secret that was hidden?
    ‘Treasure?’ asked Boges. ‘Do you believe there’s some sort of buried treasure at one of Black Tom’s castles?’
    Dr Brinsley shrugged. ‘Possibly. But the Ormond Singularity runs out in a matter of days. On 31 December, at midnight, to be exact. I happen to know that because I’ve been working on old titles and legal documents awaiting repeal. We have to find places here to house them all.’
    I looked around at the already over-stuffed shelves, desks and floor, and understood his problem.
    ‘If something valuable—the treasure, so to speak—is found after that time,’ continued Dr Brinsley, ‘it will all revert to the Crown. Which, of course, is where it is rumoured to have originated .’
    ‘Let me get this straight,’ I said. ‘You’re saying that the Ormond Singularity began with the Crown? With Queen Elizabeth the First and theOrmond family?’ I asked him, careful not to let on how much we knew already.
    ‘It was something Queen Elizabeth granted to the Ormond family. Black Tom—the tenth Earl of Ormond—was her vice-regent here, protecting her interests against his Irish countrymen. He was the first Irishman to be given the Order of the Garter, and he wore it to bed every night.’
    ‘He wore it to bed?’
    ‘That is so.’
    Winter nudged me. ‘Sounds like a serious crush to me,’ she whispered.
    ‘But the Ormond Singularity is something much bigger than some decoration from the Queen,’ I said, thinking of the Ormond Jewel, ‘if you’re talking about something like hidden treasure , here in Ireland.’
    My brain started turning around at those words. Treasure … in Ireland . Suddenly something made sense.
    I turned to my friends. ‘Jennifer Smith said my dad had hurled a copy of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island across the room, frustrated that no-one could understand what he was trying to say. He didn’t want to read the book, he was trying to tell us about treasure in Ireland!’
    ‘Your father knew something about this treasure trove?’ Brinsley asked, frowning. ‘What else did he tell you?’
    Immediately, I realised I’d said too much. ‘I don’t know,’ I said, trying to brush it off. ‘He was so sick at the time, he was probably just hallucinating.’
    ‘That’s right,’ Boges added, shaking his head. ‘Cal’s dad died from an unknown virus that really messed with his head. He didn’t know what he was saying.’
    I could see that Dr Brinsley suspected we knew a great deal more than we were letting on. He turned his attention back to the Riddle on his desk.
    ‘Sacrilege,’ he said, examining the clean cut across the bottom, ‘cutting off the last two lines.’
    ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘So you said you have information about the last two lines, and where they could be?’
    ‘First things first,’ he replied. ‘Do you also have the Ormond Jewel?’
    I felt Boges kick my ankle, hard.
    ‘It’s in a safe,’ said Winter quickly. ‘Maybe we could organise for you to have a look at it.’
    ‘May I ask how you came by it? My grandfather told me that there was once such a Jewel but that it had been lost generations ago. There had always been some connection between the OrmondRiddle and the Jewel, he believed. Although what it might have been, exactly, he did not know.’
    ‘It was recently acquired by my family,’ I said, reluctant to say that Dad had bought it while he was over here.
    Dr Brinsley squinted at me, as though willing me to hand over more information. ‘The Ormond Jewel—perhaps you could tell me what it looks like?’
    Boges tentatively pulled out some photos of the Jewel, and looked to me for approval to hand them over. I nodded to him.
    ‘Here,’ he said, placing them in Brinsley’s eager hands. There were four photos of the Jewel; one showing it