I pulled the handle apart once more, setting aside the smaller piece. Then I slid the larger piece to the left, so that it came free of the pegs. Once again I pushed and pulled at them, thinking the stubborn drawer must finally yield to my mechanical prowess, but alas, I was destined for disappointment once more.
As I squatted on the floor, eyeing my venerable foe, I hit upon a fresh idea. Taking up the U-shaped handle, I fed it through one peg only, then attempted to twist it.
Snick!
A broad smile lit my countenance as the drawer popped open, and I leaned forward eagerly to discover what treasures it might hold.
Chapter 17
As the drawer slid open my first reaction was disappointment, for it appeared to be empty. Then I realised there was a large metal box sitting inside, similar to a valise or a travelling case, but laid on one side. The tarnished bronze lid was easily mistaken for polished timber, which is why I'd missed it at first glance. The box had the same dimensions as the drawer it occupied, with two recessed handles in the lid, one at each end. As I began to lift the metal case clear of the drawer I discovered it was surprisingly heavy, and it took some effort to regain my feet and place the box on the desk.
I had barely done so when I glanced towards the door. If anyone should enter, I would be caught snooping in another man's effects, and my hopes of placating the scar-faced man with a purloined treasure or two would be dashed. So, I rearranged the ledgers and paperwork to form a sort of wall across my desk, a barrier almost a foot high that would suffice to conceal the box from anyone standing in the doorway.
Next, I flanked the box with a pair of ledgers. These were additional insurance, for the instant someone knocked upon my door I'd have only to place the ledgers on top of the container to conceal it completely.
Now, fully prepared against discovery, I turned my attention to the box itself. The surface was absent any features aside from the two handles, although it did have finely engraved lines that gleamed dully in the gaslight. They formed curls and whorls like the markings on a five pound note, but did not appear to serve any useful purpose. I was reminded of the cube in the sitting room which I had inspected on my first visit to the house, and I suspected the case was of similar origin.
Next, I turned my attention to the front, where I found two dozen inlaid squares arranged in a single line that stretched almost the entire width of the surface. Each square was approximately half an inch to a side, identical in appearance and shading. All except the last, to the far right, which had been engraved with an 'X'.
I tried opening the lid, and was not surprised to find it tightly sealed. The squares had the look of buttons, and when I tried pressing a few they emitted a faint click and remained pushed-in. Pressing them again had no effect, but pushing the button marked with the 'X' forced all the others to pop out once more with a series of loud clacking noises.
I held my breath and glanced towards the door, fearful the strange rattle would attract unwanted attention. I took up a ledger in each hand, ready to cover the case the instant I heard footsteps, but a minute passed and the house remained silent. With no immediate signs of discovery, I replaced the ledgers and resumed my inspection of the case. I decided the buttons had to be the key, so to speak, but without markings there was no clue as to the sequence or pattern required to open the case. I tried several combinations, but each time I was forced to use the reset on the indented buttons. After the rattling sound of failure echoed around my small office for the third time in a row, I shrugged off my coat and laid it over the case to muffle further noises.
On a whim I tried the digits from Pi, pressing in the third, fourteenth and fifteenth buttons, counting carefully so as not to make any mistakes. Unfortunately, nothing happened. Then I discovered the buttons could also be moved vertically, albeit only a fraction of an inch. That meant they could be up, down or centered and pressed-in or flush with the surface, which multiplied the possible combinations exponentially. My heart sank at the realisation, for this combination would not be easily guessed, nor chanced upon by happy coincidence.
After the threats and terrors I'd faced in the recent past, both mental and physical, it was galling to be defeated by a handful of buttons. But, short of applying a crow-bar, I could see no easy way to open the metal case, and so I placed the box in its former home and secured the drawer with its two-piece handle. I would continue thinking on the lock when I had the opportunity, but in the meantime the box was best left alone.
As I tidied my desk I consoled myself with the thought that, failing all other options, I could hand the unopened box to the scar-faced man. Let him puzzle over the combination, and perhaps he might leave me alone whilst he did so!
It took me a good half-hour to finish the letter to my parents, and when it was done I blotted it, folded it in three, and sealed it for delivery. I had finished the missive with a few sentences about the city, including my journey on the underground railroad and the ever-present smog from coal fires and furnaces. I did not mention a single one of the dangers I faced.
After a glance at the desk drawer
