She headed for the wardrobe, clambering over stray boxes and past the grandfather clock. She found the necklace hanging on a hook along with a collection of scarves. She spun, holding it to her neck, modeling it for him. He laughed.
They held their lamps together, searching the necklace for a hidden key. Nope, nothing.
“We might suck at this,” she said, any last glimmers of hope draining from her eyes.
Drug-addled footsteps dragged in the hall. Someone pounded their door, cackling and shouting. The drunken guard dogs must have scattered. Whoever was outside walked away.
“What time is it? We’d better leave before nightfall. It gets creepier after dark,” she said.
Fernando checked his watch. “Three thirty. Huh.” He looked up at the grandfather clock, then back at his watch. “How’s it keeping time? You haven’t wound it in years, right?”
She stepped back to view the clock, tracing her flashlight over its ornate face, bronze and gold, with emerald-green enamel details on the Roman numerals. He was right. It kept perfect time.
“Jesus, it’s gorgeous,” he said.
They opened the body’s glass door, where a pendulum inside swung. Behind it, glinting in the spotlight they’d created, was a key. He reached for it, but she smacked his hand away, then pointed. The pendulum’s arm had been sharpened to a knife point on the edges. One false move and it would slice his wrist.
“Was your aunt’s girlfriend the Marquess de Sade? Did Serafina have a steampunk kink or something? This is getting ridiculous.”
“She liked wild women with wild minds. Admit it, it’s cool.”
“I never said it wasn’t. But how do we get the key?”
She looked at her pocket watch, stuck at 4:44, pulled out the key, then shone her light onto the clock’s face. A ring in the center moved with the hour hand. She shifted the beam until she found what she was hoping for—a faint outline of a keyhole. It was blocked.
“What time’s it now?”
“Three seventeen.”
“There’s a chess set in here. I suggest we entertain ourselves until four forty-four, to see if that keyhole opens. If it does, we’ll try this key.”
“And hope it doesn’t shoot a poison dart into our eyes.”
“Also that.”
They passed the time playing half-hearted chess while someone smashed bottles in the hallway. The sun would set soon. As 4:44 neared, they watched, key in Sterling’s hand. Fernando hummed a few lines of “As Time Goes By” as the face turned, and the keyhole neared. He stopped singing when it slipped into place.
Sterling took a breath, inserted the key, then turned it clockwise. It fit. The pendulum kept swinging, but the clock’s face shifted, revealing a hidden image encircling the numbers. An alphabet, scrambled. She tried to read it, but the mechanism began to crush the key.
“Righty-tighty, lefty-loosey!” he shouted, waving his hands. She wrenched the key counterclockwise. It was getting harder to turn. The outer ring was concealed again, but the pendulum stopped. The key fought against her grip. She strained to hold it.
“Grab it!” she cried, and Fernando snatched the second key from the back. She let go, and her key spun back around on its own, then spat itself out of the clock’s face and into Sterling’s waiting hands. The pendulum swooshed down.
“We fucking did it!” she shouted, breathless, tossing him a high five, which he missed. She jumped for joy, squealing.
“We. Are. Unstoppable!” he said, taking her hands, bouncing.
“We. Are. Amazing!” she said between leaps.
“Your. Aunt. Was. Insane!” he said, still bouncing.
“I. Know!”
He stopped, panting, waving the key with a weary hand. “What sort of Edgar Allan Poe wannabe was this clockmaker bitch?” he said.
Sterling wheezed, holding his shoulders. “She was an odd one, but their relationship was adorable. They wrote each other love letters in code. Did you see that alphabet thing appear when I turned the key the wrong way?”
“I did. It’s so fucking extra.”
