Arthur contacted the police before anyone opened the wooden case again. When investigators examined it, they found every journal exactly where it belonged. Nothing had been stolen. Yet tucked beneath the false bottom of the case was a space that looked as though it had recently been opened.
The restoration apprentice identified from the security footage was questioned that afternoon. He admitted entering the workshop but insisted he believed he was helping preserve part of the collection. According to him, the historian had called late that evening, claiming she had discovered evidence that one of the journals contained a document at risk of being damaged by old glue. She asked him to retrieve it so she could verify its condition before the workshop reopened.
But the envelope he handed her wasn’t a conservation report.
It contained a hand-drawn map my grandfather had hidden inside the false compartment decades earlier. Investigators later learned the historian had spent months researching the workshop’s history after discovering references to an unfinished restoration commissioned by a famous collector. She believed the map led to a long-forgotten storage room containing priceless clocks that had never been recorded in the workshop’s inventory.
She never realized Arthur already knew about the hidden compartment.
Years earlier, my grandfather had shown him the false bottom and instructed him never to disturb it unless ownership of the workshop stayed within the family. When Arthur checked the case the morning after the transfer, he immediately noticed the tiny brass pin holding the compartment closed had been reinserted upside down—a detail only someone unfamiliar with the mechanism would miss.
The map was recovered before anyone could use it, and the hidden room remained exactly as my grandfather intended until Owen and I opened it together.
Inside were unfinished clocks, handwritten designs, and one final letter resting on the workbench.
Owen looked around in amazement.
“I thought Grandpa left me a workshop.”
I smiled.
“He did. He just saved his final masterpiece for the day the right person inherited it.”
