The Time Hunters and the Box of Eternity by Carl Ashmore Page B

    The Man with Many Names …

 
 
 
    Becky climbed down the ladder to find herself in a cramped store
room. Uncle Percy inched open the door, peered out, and upon seeing the coast
was clear, ushered them into a long, dimly-lit corridor at the end of which was
a lift. Reaching it quickly, they gathered inside as Uncle Percy pressed the
button marked ‘ Lobby. ’
    As they descended, Becky found herself nervous, scared and angry.
Emerson Drake knew they were here. How? Did he watch her read the card? And
what did his message to Uncle Percy mean? Her mind spiralled, searching for
answers, when her thoughts were cut short by the clang of a bell. The lift
doors opened and they stepped out. The view took Becky ’ s breath away.
    Enormous golden chandeliers shed light over the vast lobby as hordes
of elegantly dressed men and women sat on velvet seats, sipping champagne and
talking in loud, snooty voices; dozens of bell-hops, sporting circular red
hats, raced in all directions, heaving bulky suitcases. A banner that read ‘ Christie ’ s Charity Auction - ‘ A Taste of the
Caribbean ’ fluttered high above two bronze winged statues which surveyed the room like
gleaming sentries.
    ‘ Very posh! ’ Joe said, impressed.
    ‘ Indeed, Joe, ’ Uncle Percy said,
looking more relaxed now than he ’ d been in the last few minutes. ‘ I ’ ve never actually visited the Palmer House Hotel before … she really
is a treat, isn ’ t she? If I can draw your attention upwards. ’
    Becky looked up to see the most spectacular ceiling. Hand-painted
with rich, vibrant colours, there were twenty one giant frescoes, each one
depicting a different mythological scene.
    ‘ Painted by French
muralist, Louis Pierre Rigal, in 1900, ’ Uncle Percy said enthusiastically, ‘ each panel features a
famous Greek myth. For example, if you look over there… ’ he gestured to their
left, ‘ you
may recognise that particular one. It does, after all, include a couple of our
friends. ’
    Becky looked over to see that one of the frescoes contained the
image of a ferocious-looking Minotaur engaged in a mighty battle with a
muscular Greek warrior.
    ‘ Theseus and the
Minotaur, ’ Joe laughed.
    ‘ Since when did the
real Theseus look like Jason Statham? ’ Becky said.
    Uncle Percy looked baffled. ‘ Who? ’
    This time, it was Becky who gave a disapproving tut.
    ‘ Anyway, ’ Uncle Percy said. ‘ Much as I would
appreciate investigating the lobby further, the Auction starts in ten minutes.
And I think we should take a peek at the lots, don ’ t you? ’
    Becky trailed Uncle Percy into another room where she saw row upon
row of tables, buckling under the weight of thousands of pieces of pirate
paraphernalia: cutlasses, muskets, cannons, boarding axes, jewelry, tattered
black flags emblazoned with white skulls, and even a ship ’ s figurehead in the
shape of a mermaid.
    ‘ This-is-ace… ’ Joe gushed.
    ‘ It brings the
schoolboy out in me, too, Joe. ’ Uncle Percy pulled out a booklet from his pocket.
    ‘ What ’ s that? ’ Becky asked,
intrigued.
    ‘ It ’ s the auction
brochure, ’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘ I had Barbie acquire it for me in advance. ’ He flicked it open to
a page Becky couldn ’ t quite see.
    ‘ Yeah, but we know what
we ’ re
buying, ’ Becky said, slightly confused. ‘ The painting that was in the optomediaphibic folio, aren ’ t we? ’
    With a disinterested grunt, Uncle Percy continued to peruse the
page, glancing up from time to time to look around the room.
    Becky was about to scold him for his lack of interest in what would
be their million dollar investment when she heard Joe say, ‘ And there it is … ’
    Becky looked over to a collection of paintings being scrutinised by
a crowd of engrossed onlookers. One painting, in particular, had captured their
attention. It captured Becky ’ s, too. Twice the size of the others, the portrait of Blackbeard
looked positively fearsome. Sitting on a huge