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“Imagine,” Remi said. “Sitting on a car that valuable all these years and not even knowing it.”
“Considering the car’s missing and Uncle Albert’s accused of murder,” Oliver replied, “it doesn’t really matter at this point, does it?”
“We’re going to find it, and whoever’s behind setting up your uncle.”
Oliver gave a nod. “Let’s hope so.”
“You were saying something about a reward,” Sam said. “For the recovery of the treasure. Was it significant?”
“Truthfully, I have no idea. Why?”
“Right before we flew out, Selma found some reference to the robbery of the King’s Treasury. Something about not all of it being recovered.”
“What rubbish,” Oliver said. “Someone thinks that treasure’s sitting in the boot of the car?”
“That, or the reward you were talking about.”
Oliver shook his head. “As much as I’d love that to be the reason, I was there when we pulled that car from the barn. The only thing we found was decades of dust.”
“The possibility exists that someone thinks the treasure’s connected to the Gray Ghost.”
“I suppose it’s worth exploring,” Oliver said. “But the Gray Ghost wasn’t the only forty-fifty that Rolls-Royce gave out as part of the reward. There were two other forty-fifties included,” he said, searching a different shelf for the missing book.
“Three?” Sam said, looking over at him. “You mean there’s more than one forty-fifty from that time out there?”
“What? Well, yes. The Gray Ghost, of course, and two others, one to the American detective and one to the Viscount’s friend who helped the night they recovered it.”
Sam looked over at Remi. “We should have Selma look into those other two cars. Maybe there’s some connection.”
Remi made the call. When Selma answered, she put her on speaker, and Remi caught her up on what they knew so far.
Selma was intrigued. “Two other forty-fifties? During the same time?”
“Any chance you know what the value might be?” Sam asked.
“Not an exact price. More like hot gossip from the London Motor Show. Thirty to thirty-five million was the average value being tossed around. Lazlo said he heard that if it went up for auction, it might sell for as high as forty million.”
Sam whistled. “Quite a haul. Especially if there are two others out there.”
Oliver, who was still searching the shelves for the missing journal, nodded. “In fact, they were all outfitted by Barker and Company.”
Sam moved to Remi’s side, telling Selma, “Might be a good idea to see what you can find on those two cars. Never know what might turn up.”
“I’ll get on it,” Selma said. “Who were the original owners?”
“A detective who helped with the arrest in ’06,” Sam said. “The other person.”
Oliver’s nose was buried in one of the diarie
s. “I’m just looking it up now. This is the volume after the missing one. Rather boring in comparison, but it does mention something about the cars . . .” He turned a few pages, scanned, turned a few more. “The writing’s difficult to decipher at times. Some of the ink seems to have faded over the years.”
Sam looked over Oliver’s shoulder, trying to read it himself. “If it’s okay with you, we could overnight this to Selma, let her and her assistants take a look. They do a pretty good job when it comes to restoring documents.”
“I don’t see why not. As long as we get it back.”
“We’ll take good care of it,” Selma said. “How many volumes are there?”
“About twenty,” Oliver said.