Murder at Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page B

stating. “Much simpler, no?”
    “How much is one of these French louis worth?” Julie inquired.
    Professor Cleverly clutched his chin as he did a mental calculation. “A golden guinea was equal to thirteen pounds Scots in old money, so, let me see … between two and three hundred pounds in actual value today? But historical value? Almost priceless if it is part of the Jacobite gold.” He opened his arms wide. “Reputedly, there were not only louis of France, but crusadoes of Spain and English guineas donated to the Jacobite cause, as well. The location of the gold was kept secret in the hope of another rising in Scotland, but with the passing of Charles Edward Stuart in seventeen hundred and eighty-eight, all hope was finally lost.” Humphrey gazed at nothing in particular as though caught in the past.
    “Here’s to a new chance at Independence,” John said brightly, clinking glasses with Alistair and Jason. “No offence to the Sassenachs here …,” the medic added, referring to the two English ladies from Derby.
    “None taken,” Helen said cheerfully. “We’re very pro Scotland, aren’t we, Julie?”
    “Definitely,” her friend replied, sneaking a glance at Drew’s handsome profile. Helen and Julie exchanged knowing glances, Drew clearly oblivious to the forces at work on his future.
    Glasses were refilled. The mood around the fire grew more animated still. Crystal clinked and toasts were made.
    “The gold has to be there, don’t you see?” Catriona said, unable to drop the subject. “Buried in the keep like the poem says. Now, thanks to Jason, we have proof !”
    Jason smiled, while Drew scowled.
    “How come your ancestors never found it?” Vanessa asked. She and her daughter had been quiet for much of the discussion, but had paid close attention. Ace Weaver had dozed off after Professor Cleverly recited the poem, and no one seemed to give him another thought.
    “They tried,” Catriona replied. “They all but tore the castle apart looking for it. But it must be buried really deep under the flagstones. Or else they didn’t know where to look. The ground will have to be dug up.”
    Rex inwardly groaned at the thought of the heavy equipment that would be brought into the valley, no doubt at the expense of several trees. He had bought Gleneagle Lodge to get away from noise and disturbance and crowds of people. Now he would have to postpone his weekend and holiday visits until the work was completed. No doubt nature would flee as well. The news did not bode well for the coming year. He was almost sorry he had thrown a party. Bad news could wait, and certainly had no place ruining his Hogmanay celebrations.
    “Don’t worry, Rex,” Helen consoled him in an undertone. “It may never happen.”
    “It could be a fool’s errand,” Alistair warned the Frasers. “One of your ancestors may have already found the gold and spent it.”
    “That cannot be the case,” Ken argued, his mouth a small square in his short-clipped gray beard. “The family fortune would have been restored, and clearly it wasn’t. Malcolm Fraser was a miser and would not have told anybody of its exact location. Many a clan member went mad or suicidal from despair looking for it.”
    “The inbreeding would have accounted for much of the insanity,” Alistair remarked to general amusement. Even the Frasers took his comment in good spirit. Margarita Delacruz crossed herself again.
    “The treasure came to be a curse, to be sure,” Ken Fraser related. “But for the gold, the clan would have gone about their business and continued to thrive instead of staking all on a gamble. The priest mentions gold bars or ingots in his journal. These possibly came from Spain.”
    “Gold bars don’t fall under the same category as coins, do they?” Jason asked.
    “Finders keepers in this case, I believe,” Alistair opined, consulting Rex with a look of inquiry.
    “Might depend on what markings, if any, they have on them.”
    “What