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“Good man.”

Suddenly, I felt at home and at ease enough to take my business a step further.

“So, the foxy is still here, huh?” I asked and pointed to the thing with my index finger because other fingers were busy holding the glass.

“It is, sir,” he said. “Would you like us to put it down in the basement?”

“Nah, keep it here where it belongs,” I said taking a sip. “I say, Harry, do you remember the old pirate chest we kept in the attic?”

“I do, sir. We moved it together with all the other old furniture to the cellars.”

“I’d like to take a look at it if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all, sir. I’ll have Benny fetch the keys and open the basement for you. Would you like me to accompany you?”

“No need. Benny’ll do just fine. I’ll just finish my drink and meet him in the hall in, say, ten minutes.”

“Very good, sir,” Harry said and left the library thoughtfully leaving the tray with the crystal whiskey pitcher on the table.

All right. The wheels were in motion, so to speak. I would have one more drink and then I’d be ready to see it. One more drink.

***

We had a big basement under Maple Grove House. It matched all the floor space of the levels above. Since it was carrying the weight of the house, its walls were built to act as a continuation of the foundations, and they were much thicker than the walls above. There were two entries: one from the inside of the house, from the kitchen, and one from the backyard. Both entries led to passageways with storage spaces, wine and whiskey cellars, and pantries on both sides. The basement had one secret exit that was disguised as a dead-end, next to the farthest cellar, which led into the escape tunnel. Ezekiel Montague included that in the design of the house in case he had to flee the property. The exit was hidden in a maple grove about fifty meters away from the house. That gave us, the descendants, an idea that he had still had a few skeletons in his closet that’d been bothering him. Over the years, the tunnel proved to be an extremely helpful addition for those who knew where the exit (or entrance) was and wanted to get into the house unnoticed. Those were mostly male members of the family returning from some debauchery late at night. In fact, it started to get so out of hand that at some point my great grandfather ordered it sealed. After that, no one used the tunnel much. “No one” who didn’t want to be seen using it, that is. The basement was off limits to us when we were kids, but we managed to sneak in from time to time, with the staff who were down there getting groceries from pantries, fetching old and dusty wine bottles for a party from wine cellars or moving some ancient stuff around from one area of storage to another.