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“It doesn’t seem to me that we’re making much progress getting to my treasure,” Grandma said. “We’ve got clues, but we only have two of them, and we don’t know what they mean without the rest of the clues.”
“I’m good with clues,” Potts said. “What are they?”
“Ace it. And Philadelphia,” Grandma said.
“I see your problem. Standing alone those clues aren’t helpful. How many more clues are there?”
“Four more,” Grandma said. “The six gangster owners of the Mole Hole each had a clue to a treasure.”
“And you want their treasure?” Potts asked.
“One of the gangsters was my late husband,” Grandma said. “I got a rightful claim on his share.”
“That sounds fair,” Potts said. “What’s the treasure?”
“We don’t know,” Grandma said, “but we hear it’s worth a lot of money. Three of the gangsters are dead, including my honey, Jimmy. The other two are scumbags who are trying to kidnap Stephanie and me.”
“What about the last one?” Potts asked. “Will he give you his clue?”
“We’re working on it,” Grandma said.
“We should go talk to him,” Potts said.
“His wife just died,” I said.
Potts looked to Grandma and then to me. “Is that a problem?”
“I guess we could offer our condolences and work the treasure into the conversation,” Grandma said.
Our food arrived. Turkey dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy for Grandma. A burger, no bun for Potts. Grilled cheese and fries for me. This is the joy of a Jersey diner. Something for everyone.
“What about the tu
nnels?” Potts asked. “Did you find any clues down there? Sometimes in the movies there are symbols etched into stones or brick walls or wooden beams.”
“No luck with the tunnels,” I said.
“My friend Morgan is the fry cook at the Lucky Lucy Cafe. He says there’s an old, mostly sealed-up entrance to a tunnel in the basement, and when the Margo blew up it filled the entire café with smoke.”
“I told you about that!” Grandma said to me. “Remember, I heard it from Dottie.”
I had totally forgotten about the Lucky Lucy. I wasn’t too keen on going back into the Mole Hole tunnel to look for symbols that had been carved into now charred wooden braces, but the hope that a tunnel entrance from the Lucky Lucy was still at least partially intact was enough to motivate me. “Do you think your friend would let us see the sealed-up entrance?”
“I don’t see why not. He should be working until closing today.”
* * *
I parked in the Lucky Lucy’s small side lot and removed a giant Maglite from the driver door’s pocket. Good for illumination and cracking skulls.
We walked around to the front and looked up. A large sign displayed the Lucky Lucy’s name along with a logo of four playing cards, all aces.
“You think that’s the Ace it?” Grandma said.
I didn’t want to jinx anything, but I thought there was a pretty good chance.
“Only one way to find out,” I said. “Let’s talk to Morgan.”
The Lucky Lucy had booths along the walls and a few tables in the center of the room. All mostly full.
