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Authors: Simon Cheshire
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any kind. It wasn’t particularly light or heavy, and it
didn’t appear to be made of anything unusual.
‘It’s obviously got some connection to mirroring, or symmetry, but what?’ I mumbled.
‘Maths again,’ sighed Jack.
‘Perhaps it’s a reflection, rather than a mirror,’ said Muddy. ‘The next part of the line mentions glass, and that reflects.’
I snapped my fingers. Which I only did at that moment because I couldn’t get a huge exclamation mark to ping into view above my head. ‘We’re thinking too small. Most of what
we’ve done so far has involved the house itself, and moving around it. We’re now standing as far as you can go on this side of the house. If we mirror the exact spot we found the
key on the other side of the house, what do we get?’
As one, we charged out of the room and across the landing at the top of the stairs. Keeping a careful three-dimensional picture in our heads of the key’s hiding place, we hurried across
the house, judged the correct position as closely as we could and found ourselves at the end of a corridor, standing in front of:
‘A side window,’ said Jack. ‘“Mirror the prize and see the trees”!’
‘But you can’t see any trees from here,’ said Muddy, peering out and pulling a face. ‘All you can see is the roundabout and the shopping mall.’
‘I thought I could hear you lot thundering about.’ At that moment, Izzy appeared along the hallway, clutching a pile of papers to her chest.
‘Perfect timing!’ I cried. ‘Have you found any pictures?’
‘Of . . .?’
‘Of this house in the 1840s?’ I said. ‘I need to confirm a theory.’
‘Actually, yes,’ said Izzy. ‘I’ve been able to find masses of stuff. Here, there’re pictures amongst all this.’ She handed me the papers and I started
flicking through them eagerly.
‘Give us the edited highlights of what you’ve found,’ I said, still zipping through one sheet after another. ‘This whole mystery contains more questions than two quiz
books and a TV game show.’
‘OK,’ said Izzy, adjusting her specs. ‘Tonight’s headlines. Silas Middlewich came from a very poor family himself. Which makes the way he exploited poverty-stricken
people here all the more shameful, I reckon. He got his money, the money to build this place, by getting involved in buying and selling local plots of land. These deals were highly illegal, it
seems. Dozens of wealthy locals, including the mayor, a Mr Carmichael, and a factory owner called Isaac Kenton were also involved, but nothing was ever proved. It’s thought that Middlewich
got the whole thing hushed up. It’s also thought that Middlewich murdered Isaac Kenton’s wife. She vanished without trace in 1844, the same year this treasure trail was written. Again,
nothing was ever proved.
‘And Middlewich was himself murdered?’ said Jack.
‘Yes, in 1845,’ said Izzy. ‘By this Martha Humble I mentioned before. Nothing more is known about her, only that she accused him of swindling her husband, whoever he was.
Anyway, Middlewich was so hated around town that the local teacher, a man called Josiah Flagg, organised a kind of anti-Middlewich committee. The town constable, Mr Trottman, even had this house
raided twice, looking for evidence against Middlewich. But Middlewich was obviously too good at covering his tracks. I tell you, Jack, your parents now own a house built by an absolute and total
crook.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ I muttered to myself. I stopped sorting through Izzy’s papers and looked up at the three of them. ‘I know who this treasure hunt was meant for. I
know who Silas Middlewich meant to leave his treasure to.’
‘Who?’ said Muddy.
‘Think about how the parchment is written, about how we’ve gone about deciphering it so far. From what Izzy’s told us, there was someone who would have had an easier time
following this treasure hunt than most people. In 1844, anyway.’
Have you worked out who
didn’t appear to be made of anything unusual.
‘It’s obviously got some connection to mirroring, or symmetry, but what?’ I mumbled.
‘Maths again,’ sighed Jack.
‘Perhaps it’s a reflection, rather than a mirror,’ said Muddy. ‘The next part of the line mentions glass, and that reflects.’
I snapped my fingers. Which I only did at that moment because I couldn’t get a huge exclamation mark to ping into view above my head. ‘We’re thinking too small. Most of what
we’ve done so far has involved the house itself, and moving around it. We’re now standing as far as you can go on this side of the house. If we mirror the exact spot we found the
key on the other side of the house, what do we get?’
As one, we charged out of the room and across the landing at the top of the stairs. Keeping a careful three-dimensional picture in our heads of the key’s hiding place, we hurried across
the house, judged the correct position as closely as we could and found ourselves at the end of a corridor, standing in front of:
‘A side window,’ said Jack. ‘“Mirror the prize and see the trees”!’
‘But you can’t see any trees from here,’ said Muddy, peering out and pulling a face. ‘All you can see is the roundabout and the shopping mall.’
‘I thought I could hear you lot thundering about.’ At that moment, Izzy appeared along the hallway, clutching a pile of papers to her chest.
‘Perfect timing!’ I cried. ‘Have you found any pictures?’
‘Of . . .?’
‘Of this house in the 1840s?’ I said. ‘I need to confirm a theory.’
‘Actually, yes,’ said Izzy. ‘I’ve been able to find masses of stuff. Here, there’re pictures amongst all this.’ She handed me the papers and I started
flicking through them eagerly.
‘Give us the edited highlights of what you’ve found,’ I said, still zipping through one sheet after another. ‘This whole mystery contains more questions than two quiz
books and a TV game show.’
‘OK,’ said Izzy, adjusting her specs. ‘Tonight’s headlines. Silas Middlewich came from a very poor family himself. Which makes the way he exploited poverty-stricken
people here all the more shameful, I reckon. He got his money, the money to build this place, by getting involved in buying and selling local plots of land. These deals were highly illegal, it
seems. Dozens of wealthy locals, including the mayor, a Mr Carmichael, and a factory owner called Isaac Kenton were also involved, but nothing was ever proved. It’s thought that Middlewich
got the whole thing hushed up. It’s also thought that Middlewich murdered Isaac Kenton’s wife. She vanished without trace in 1844, the same year this treasure trail was written. Again,
nothing was ever proved.
‘And Middlewich was himself murdered?’ said Jack.
‘Yes, in 1845,’ said Izzy. ‘By this Martha Humble I mentioned before. Nothing more is known about her, only that she accused him of swindling her husband, whoever he was.
Anyway, Middlewich was so hated around town that the local teacher, a man called Josiah Flagg, organised a kind of anti-Middlewich committee. The town constable, Mr Trottman, even had this house
raided twice, looking for evidence against Middlewich. But Middlewich was obviously too good at covering his tracks. I tell you, Jack, your parents now own a house built by an absolute and total
crook.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ I muttered to myself. I stopped sorting through Izzy’s papers and looked up at the three of them. ‘I know who this treasure hunt was meant for. I
know who Silas Middlewich meant to leave his treasure to.’
‘Who?’ said Muddy.
‘Think about how the parchment is written, about how we’ve gone about deciphering it so far. From what Izzy’s told us, there was someone who would have had an easier time
following this treasure hunt than most people. In 1844, anyway.’
Have you worked out who
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