Lawrence Stewart makes his way through the halls of the Rollins’ house with a sense of familiarity of someone who’s been there hundreds of times. His daughter’s relationship with Patty has spanned years, and in that time the families have visited each other often. Lawrence always appreciated the taste Patty and Tom have in their decor. A good portion of it has come from trips around the world the two have families have gone on, but every now and then there is a piece that he hasn’t seen before, and he loves trying to pick them out during each visit.
Or maybe that’s just the thief in him always scanning the area for differences. Differences stand out. Differences are opportunities.
Although, he’s less inclined to take advantage of friends, and so he purposefully has never mixed friends and business like this. It was Evie who pushed the case and did everything in her power to convince him this was a job worth taking. He expressed his concern multiple times, and pushed back as much as a father of a 51-year-old-woman could, but his daughter is an experienced and smart woman. She understands the risks. At least he hopes she does.
He stops in a small library towards the front of the house. The smell of books has always been a favorite aroma of his, and the simple fireplace ties in the room together perfectly. It’s his favorite room in the house. The bookcases cover two of the four walls in the room, with leather chairs on one side, and windows to the front of the house covering the last wall. On either side of the windows are two new decorations he hasn’t seen.
Approaching them, he takes a closer look for any indication that they might be what he’s looking for. Scanning the edges, he doesn’t see anything sticking out. He lifts one of them off the wall and turns it over.
Nothing.
Twisting the object in front of the nearby sconce for any change in texture yields no results as well.
Damnit, he thinks.
Placing it back in it’s spot, adjusting it slightly to make sure it’s straight, he considers the source of the job. The contract came from an anonymous contractor, as it normally does, so that wasn’t what made the hair on his neck stand up. That came when the job started having direct connections to him and his family. Evie tried reassuring him the reason is that they’ve been in the game so long, it was bound to happen at some point.
However, for Lawrence, he always made it a focus, both professionally and personally, to never ignore coincidence. This time it hits close to home, and that doesn’t sit right with him. Regardless, his daughter is old enough to make her own decisions, and he won’t leave her to tackle a job like this alone. When she asked him to help as an extra set of eyes, he said yes without hesitation.
The contract came in the form of a riddle, which isn’t uncommon, but typically at his age, Lawrence would ignore it for the simple fact of not wanting to put up with the games. Even Evie is old enough, and successful enough, that she should have ignored it. When the two discussed the possibility of him helping, she even said she debated taking it on, but something about it drew her in, she told him.
Maybe the inclusion of the Rollins’, Lawrence thought to himself as he sipped his drink in the library. Is it possible, she feels responsible to “protect” them somehow if they are at risk? Is she worried another thief might resort to violence, so she took the job to ensure that wouldn’t happen?
Too many questions to consider, and honestly, it’s too late now. Lawrence agreed to help, so here he is helping in any way he can. So back to the task at hand.
He leaves his favorite room and ventures down the hallway in the opposite direction of all the commotion. From his understanding, someone is starting to call the party together. Most likely for dinner, which means he should be free to look for his bounty as closely as he wants.
The next room down the hallway is a dining room, separated from the bulk of the house in order to have more intimate gatherings. The room stretches enough to hold a table of twenty-two. A bit excessive for people like the Rollins’, however maybe the room was designed with aspiration in mind. Any more government contracts for Tom, and he may very well start rubbing elbows with some senators and congressmen. Better to have the room for such situations rather than scrambling to find an alternative at the last minute.
Walking down the stretch of the table, Lawrence stops to look over the fireplace and the decorations that surround it. Tom has made a point to keep these areas as minimalistic as possible, however it’s obvious that Patty has found a few knick-knacks to strategically place around it.
One that catches his eye is quite a bit larger than your typical desktop memorabilia. Lawrence takes a step closer to the fireplace and leans as much as he can over the hearth.
This shield, it’s not something he’s seen before. The ornate design of, presumably, a family crest is absolutely breathtaking. The craftsmanship is exquisite, and from his knowledge of European artifacts, it ranges between a couple hundred years to possibly five hundred years old; most likely from the Mediterranean.
Lawrence leans that much further to brush his fingers over the designs. He grasps the edge of it to feel the weight. It’s a bit awkward to pick up at this angle, so he takes the step to stand on top of the hearth. If someone were to walk in now, it would be a difficult situation to explain himself out of, but not impossible. The thought lurking in the back of his mind forces him to look over his right shoulder and the door he came through in anticipation of someone walking through.
The lack of concentration forces him to stumble a moment, almost knocking the shield off the wall, and creating such a noise that would have invited everyone in to investigate.
Lucky for him, he caught himself on the sandstone mantle before dropping anything.
Taking a moment to catch his breath after the near miss, he steadies himself and reaches up to grab the shield. He lifts it off the three nails holding it in place, and cautiously takes a step back off the hearth. The shield is heavy, but only enough to make it awkward.
Lawrence, now back on the floor, exhales the built up tension and anxiety. He turns and places the shield on the table behind him, being careful not to knock the glass centerpieces at the same time. When he has it safely on the table, he begins searching the edges for evidence of the clues the contractor stated.
Sadly, nothing sticks out. This shield hasn’t been tampered with in centuries. At least not from what Lawrence can see. He grabs the edges to lift it off the table, but has trouble and almost drops it. Before fully lifting it, he adjusts his grip.
There.
Something rubbing his fingers in a strange way, different from what he felt before.
He pauses, then sets the shield back down. He lifts it up to flip it over, but carefully. His ears perk up to a distant sound down the hallway, and places the shield back on the table. When nothing follows, he refocuses on his task.
Gripping the shield, he picks it up to flip it around, and once he feels comfortable, sets it back down on the table.
There it is.
A stray piece of fabric off to the side, hidden behind the leather of the back of the shield. Something hidden within the shield. He rubs his fingers across the opening where the fabric is coming out and senses a lack of connection between the two pieces; enough room for him to grip it and pull it apart. Rather than doing that, he pulls the fabric a bit to see if it comes loose.
It does.
This must be it. The fabric is ancient, most likely it comes from another time period than the rest of the material of the shield.
This must be the “secret of the sigil” the contractor stated in their request. It has to be.
Lawrence takes a step back and considers his options. He glances at his watch and isn’t thrilled about the time. The party is still in its infancy. That’s no good. Not for sneaking an object of this size out of the house without drawing any attention.
He lifts it up and places it back over the mantle of the fireplace.
He’ll talk to Evie and they’ll make a decision together.
Once the shield is back in place, Lawrence takes a step back and surveys the room, looking for any inconsistencies that might draw attention to his presence here. After he decides that everything looks as it did when he walked in, he picks up his drink and leaves the room.
Now, to find Evie.
Lawrence retraces his steps in hopes of coming across his daughter, however on the way he hears a slight commotion from another hallway, towards one of the front sitting areas. A clatter of plates and footsteps shuffling back and forth on the hardwood floor. It sounds as if someone almost ran into someone else. Normally, he would ignore it, but before he can push the thought to the back of his mind, he hears his wife’s voice.
His head turns toward the direction of the sound, and seeing a small gathering of people he decides to check on her. Before he can get close enough to interact, he sees a young man turn the corner coming from the hallway that leads towards the kitchen. If he had to guess, it looks like his grandson.
Good, I’m glad Nicolas is looking after his grandmother. Even so, I better make sure she’s all right.
Lawrence decides the detour to check on his wife is worth it, so he passes the hallway to the kitchen. His grandson is a few steps ahead of him, and as he approaches the room he can see the top of his wife’s head over the shoulder of a man. He doesn’t believe he’s seen the man yet tonight, based on his attire, but when he shuffles from his right foot to his left, he catches a glimpse of his wife’s face.
The look of shock on her face is indistinguishable. She’s perplexed by something, and it seems to be this man, and…his grandson? Her eyes are darting back and forth between the two, and her mouth is wide open.
Before he can open his to call after her, the man blocking his view of her turns ever so slightly, apparently to check on whomever might be behind him.
At that moment, he sees the face of someone he thought he would never see in the same home as his family, and the glass in his hand drops and shatters on the floor.
Writing by Adam 