The Key

Chapter Nine

"Legal? Rightful? Owner?" Ian repeated.

"Yes! Legal and rightful!" The Registrar stated again. "Do you have za document from za bank?"

Ian stared at the man for a couple of seconds which felt like hours.

"What document?" Not trusting anyone.

"I have a letter from Miss Chloé Lester dated, signed and witnessed zat says I have za legal right to hand over zese documents to za person zat holds za document from za Bank of Geneva, of which I have a photocopy. If za document matches my document zen I am able to hand you zese documents."

Ian could not believe the lengths to which Chloé had gone.

He handed over the document to prove that he should have the legal documents concerning Chillon Castle.

After looking around the outside of Chillon Castle - not able to gain entry. He let Jean-Luc go and he started to walk the streets of Geneva trying to assess the situation fully.

This was a lot to take in, in a very short period of time.

First, Cassandra was found dead at the bottom of a cliff. Second, Cassandra was not dead. Third, it was Chloé who was dead. Fourth, she is a twin. Fifth, a key found in her stomach. Sixth, the key led to a safety deposit box in Geneva, Switzerland. Seventh, the contents of the box is empty but for a poem. Eighth, the poem is written in Latin AND backwards. He now lost count and soon to run out of fingers to count on. That poem leads to a castle. The castle belongs to Chloé Lester. Chloé! ........The irresponsibly, flighty twin, apparently. The one that couldn't finish anything. The one that hopped around the world with no plan. How is all of this possible?

The key in effect was the key to the key to the front door of a castle.

At Chloé's funeral there were several men, Richard Tate and James Tate and Walt Lockard. Who was that mysterious woman that placed that single rose on Chloé's coffin? Ian continued to ponder.

His mind was exploding with all these revelations. Chloé was certainly unique right to the end and even after her death. Ian was more engaged in this mystery than ever before.

Ian knew there was more to this than what seemed obvious. He needed to think so he started walking along the shop fronts facing Lake Geneva. He could think better pounding the pavement.

As he walked down the street he could feel a presence behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. Although the street had lots of people walking up and down he still felt that someone was following him. He continued to walk looking oblivious to what was going on around him but sharply astute and keenly aware of everything. Hypersensitive. When he came upon a shop that interested him, he first looked into the window at the items displayed, then he slipped inside.

Quickly turned to look out the front window to see who would pass the shop. Lots of pairs of women chatting, many couples engrossed in each other and the romantic atmosphere of the quaint ancient town.

Ian thought he better backtrack to see what he could see. He went outside the front door of the shop and turned right. The row of small shops were facing Lake Geneva. Nothing obstructing their view of the beautiful water and the Alps beyond. As he got to the end of the row of shops a narrow ancient one-way street appeared. The street had stood there for what seemed to be a thousand years. Cobblestone and antique brick buildings lined each side of it. He stood with his back against the building. Looking to the left and then the right he could not see anyone that seemed suspicious, just more of the same kind of people, couples arm in arm or holding hands and women friends laughing and talking, going about their business.