Escape Room Read online

  An oak desk with a single drawer sat in the corner, covered with a short stack of books, a clock, an inkwell and some loose papers. A single upholstered chair had been pushed under the desk. Several plants were placed around the room, including an ivy plant that spilled pleasantly off one of the bookcase shelves.

  The floorboards, constructed of wide mahogany planks, were covered only by a small rust-colored area rug in the middle of the room. A brass chandelier hung from the ceiling, and several paintings were arranged on a wall otherwise covered with wallpaper the color of rich burgundy.

  It was like stepping into the 19th century.

  “Welcome to Down House,” Leo announced with a flourish of his arm. “Home to Charles Darwin.”

  Jenny, Kate, Wolfie, Tahoe and Chance surveyed the room quietly. They immediately dispersed throughout the study, examining the paintings, scrutinizing the bookcase. Jenny was drawn to the globe, which she spun slowly, rotating it along its axis.

  Leo said, “Alfred Wallace has been missing for nearly a week now. Everything you need to find out what happened to him is located in this room. Are there any final questions?”

  Chance glanced at the others. Each of them stood in a different corner of the room. He watched as each of them shook their heads.

  “I’m good,” Tahoe said.

  “Me too,” added Kate.

  “Let’s get started,” Wolfie said.

  “Ready,” said Jenny. It’s the first thing she’s said since her initial introduction.

  “No questions,” Chance concluded.

  “Great,” Leo said. “That just leaves one final thing. Charles Darwin lived in the late 1800s, a time without much technology … and certainly no cell phones.”

  The group groaned in unison.

  “So, you know what that means. You will all need to hand over your cell phones. I’ll take them now, put them in a safe in the control room, and you’ll all get them back, safe and sound, when you escape.”

  Leo grabbed a silver platter from Darwin’s desk and approached each of them in turn. “I promise nothing will happen to your beloved phones,” he assured them. One by one, Jenny, Wolfie and Kate placed their phones on the platter. They looked like they were parting with a family member. Chance dropped his iPhone onto the platter with the others.

  “Studies have shown that some people can become violent when they are separated from their smartphones,” Tahoe said, placing her own phone on the platter. “Anything bad that happens because of this is on you, Game Master.”

  Leo grinned. “I accept that responsibility,” he said.

  “Can I keep my journal?” Jenny asked. She held up her brown notebook.

  “Absolutely,” the Game Master said. “That may actually come in handy as you work through the puzzles in this room.”

  “What if we have to go to the bathroom?” Kate asked.

  “Or we get hungry?” added Tahoe.

  “If you have to use the facilities, go now,” Leo advised. When nobody made a move toward the door, he added, “And as for food, Charles Darwin was known for eating all sorts of weird food — armadillo, rodents, even owl. But we won’t subject you to that.”

  “Damn,” Tahoe said. “The only reason I came here was for the chance to eat owl.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Leo said. “But we left a bowl of candy on the desk. I would advise not eating any of it until you gain your bearings.”

  Chance stood closest to Darwin’s desk. The bowl of candy, he saw, was filled with M&Ms. He resisted the temptation to grab a handful of the multi-colored chocolates. But there was something strange about the candies. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He was pretty sure there were no M&Ms in Darwin’s day.

  “If there are no more questions, it’s time to get started,” Leo said. “Remember these three things: One, be smart. Everything you need to escape is right in here. Two, work as a team. You are all here for a reason. Use each other, play off one another. Communicate. And finally, have fun!”

  With that, Leo bowed slightly, and stepped out of the door. It locked behind him with an audible click. Kate, who was standing closest to the door, jiggled the handle.

  “Locked up tight,” she confirmed.

  “So, boys and girls,” Tahoe said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  SIX

  For the first few minutes, chaos reigned. Chance adopted a studious approach for a moment, taking in the room it its entirety. And watched.

  The rest of them raced through the room, ruffling curtains, pulling out books, rifling through the papers on the desk. Everyone shouted at the same time at each new discovery. Wolfie opened a cabinet door in the bottom of the bookcase, but it was empty. It closed with a metallic click. He climbed the ladder and ran a finger along the top of the bookcase. Jenny examined some faint writing on the globe. Tahoe stuck her head into the fireplace and looked up, expecting to see a chimney. Kate seemed transfixed by one of the paintings, a portrait of Darwin’s family in what appeared to be a living room. She ran a finger around the ornate gold frame.

  “I got something,” she announced. Everyone rushed to her side, excited by the discovery of their first clue. “There’s a button here, on the right side of the frame.”

  “Fast work,” Tahoe commended. “Push the damn thing.”

  Kate pressed the button. For a moment, nothing happened. Suddenly, a whirring noise, a low mechanical hum, filled the room. Then, a soft click.

  “Did something just happen?” Wolfie asked.

  The painting moved, ever so slightly. Kate grasped the frame with two hands, and gently pulled. The painting opened on a hinge like a door. Behind the painting, set flush into a recess in the wall, was a safe. Kate tugged on the silver metal knob.

  “Locked,” she said.

  Kate pointed to a mechanism on the safe door. To Chance it looked like a combination lock, with four rotating tumblers of digits.

  “We need the combination,” Kate said. “Start looking for numbers.”

  Chaos returned. Now armed with a definitive target, Chance joined the others and dashed about the room. Jenny returned to the globe. Wolfie pulled books from the bookshelf, flipping hastily through them. Tahoe and Kate leafed through the papers on Darwin’s oak desk.

  “I got something,” Jenny announced. “Try 1-8-4-4.” She read the numbers right from the globe.

  Kate darted back to the safe and slid the tumblers into place. “Nope.”

  “Look for a key too!” Tahoe shouted. “The drawer in this desk is locked.” She rattled the drawer to demonstrate.

  Chance joined Tahoe at Darwin’s desk, picked up a piece of paper. “There’s got to be something in all these papers,” he said.

  “Most of them are drawings, diagrams,” she replied. “Shells or something.”

  Chance gazed at the paper, at the finely drawn sketches of two dozen shells of various sizes and shapes.

  “Barnacles,” he said. “Darwin studied them.”

  “He’s a good artist,” Tahoe said. “See the shading here? That’s not easy. Darwin had a good teacher.”

  “You know a lot about drawing, huh?”

  “I paint,” she said. “And I can recognize talent when I see it.”

  Chase picked up another piece of paper from the desk. A letter. It was handwritten on thick stationery addressed to “My dearest Charles” and signed with only a set of initials — “AW.”

  “Did you read this?” Chance asked Tahoe.

  She glanced at the paper. “I, uh…no. I didn’t think it looked very interesting.”

  Chance read it aloud.

  I trust that your health has improved upon your return to Down House. London’s smog is certainly not conducive to unimpeded breathing!

  As a sincere thank you for reviewing my manuscript, I hope you will enjoy this set of four paintings of birds of paradise from Indonesia. A wonderful artist accompanied me during my travels and drew this set specifically for you. As you can see, the colors are quite viv
id, the ornamentation most spectacular. I have long pondered what forces both natural and unnatural created these garish tails, the intricate birdsong. Perhaps we might consider this question together upon my return?

  Until then, love to Emma.

  Yours in exploration, AW

  Chance set the letter down. AW. Alfred Wallace, surely. Above the fireplace, Wallace’s drawings hung in a row. Four framed pictures. The birds were, in fact, quite vivid, their bright and distinctive plumage providing a splash of color in the otherwise muted study.

  “Anything?” Tahoe asked.

  “I don’t think so. Certainly no combination or desk key.”

  Wolfie jumped down from the ladder with a thud. “This is getting stupid,” he said. “There are hundreds of books here. How are we supposed to find anything?”

  Jenny gave the globe a mighty spin. “Wolfie is right. I can’t find anything.”

  Kate asked, “Should we ask for a clue?”

  “Jesus Christ, people!” Tahoe shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “We’ve been here for five minutes. Can we try not to be such losers, please?”

  “Tahoe is right,” Chance seconded. “We can do this. Leo said all the clues are here. We just need to slow down and think this through.”

  “Maybe we need some chocolate to get our brains firing,” Wolfie said. He turned to the desk and lifted the bowl of candy. “Anybody else want some M&Ms? Hey, where the hell are the greens?”

  Shrugging, Wolfie scooped up a handful of the candies and held them in his fist above his open mouth.

  “Wait,” Chance shouted suddenly. “Don’t eat that.”

  Wolfie froze, his fist above his head, his mouth still open. All eyes turned to Chance. He had never been an attention seeker, and he instinctively looked down at his feet under the weight of their collective gaze.

  “Chance, you got something you want to share with the group?” asked Tahoe.

  Chance took a deep breath and looked up. You can do this, he assured himself. “The candy, it’s a clue,” he said, his voice low. “To the combination lock.”

  “A clue?” asked Wolfie. “How can a bowl of M&Ms open a safe? And this better be good, because I’m hungry as hell.”

  “Bring me the bowl,” Chance said. “Let’s see if I’m right.”

  All of them gathered around Chance. Wolfie placed the bowl on the desk.

  “It looks like a plain bowl of M&Ms, dude,” Tahoe said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” Chance acknowledged. “But look, Wolfie is right. There are colors missing. There should be brown, yellow, red, orange, green and blue, right?”

  “I guess I never thought about it,” Kate said. “But I think you’re right.”

  “But there are only four colors here,” Chance continued. “Brown, yellow, red, blue. No green, no orange.”

  “Okay, that is a little weird,” Kate said. “But I still don’t see —” She stopped when Chance held up a hand.

  “Count the candies,” Chase instructed. “Each color, count them up.”

  The others exchanged puzzled looks, but quickly followed his instructions.

  Jenny counted the reds. “Seven,” she announced.

  Wolfie: “Six brown.”

  Kate: “Three blue.”

  “And nine yellows,” said Tahoe. “Now what?”

  “It’s the letter,” Chance said, brandishing the sheet of paper still clutched in his hand. “This letter talks about a series of paintings, given to Darwin as a gift. Pictures of wild birds. Those paintings right over there.”

  Everyone stared at the far wall, at the small sketches in slim gold frames that hung neatly above the fireplace.

  “The colors,” Tahoe said, understanding dawning. “The color of the birds.”

  From left to right, each drawing depicted a different bird, sketched with fine-pointed colored pencils. Each bird was identified in tight cursive lettering at the bottom of each frame.

  The first was a brilliant red bird, with a kinky tail that resembled one of those old-style curled moustaches from the 1800s. The label identified the creature as Wilson’s Bird of Paradise. The second drawing depicted a large crested bird with a rich navy blue neck, a Southern cassowary. The next in the sequence was a dull-colored fowl with a massive beak, a Shoebill. The final picture showed a pair of Pakistani birds, bright yellow creatures with flowing white and yellow tail feathers.

  “In order, left to right,” Chance said. “Red, blue, brown, yellow.”

  “Red, blue, brown, yellow,” Tahoe repeated, catching on. “The order of the numbers of the M&Ms. That’s it.”

  They rushed back to the safe. Kate ordered, “Read me off the numbers.”

  “Red is first, and we had seven red,” Chance said. “Seven.”

  “Three,” Wolfie said excitedly. “Three is next.”

  Tahoe finished impatiently, “Brown, yellow … six, nine. Six, nine!”

  Everyone held their breath as Kate rotated the digits into place. “Seven … three … six … nine. Done.”

  The safe door popped open.

  Whoops of victory filled the room. Chance had to admit, it felt satisfying to solve the first puzzle. It was ingenious, the chocolate candies and the paintings. The Game Master had even made a point to warn the players not to eat the M&Ms too soon.

  From the safe, Kate slowly removed a small figurine. She delicately placed it on the desk.

  It was a turtle, perhaps four inches square and three inches tall, cast in bronze. There was no inscription.

  “We cracked the case,” Wolfie announced. “The turtle kidnapped Wallace.”

  “Fear the turtle,” cracked Tahoe.

  Kate inspected the figurine, even the patterns on its shell for some kind of hidden message. But there was nothing there, just a turtle set into a small pedestal base.

  Despite the discovery of the unhelpful statue, the group’s spirits were buoyed by their first success. They dispersed once again throughout the room, but this time their searching was more orderly, not as rushed. The clues of the candies and the paintings focused them on what to look for, and to look more closely.

  “Hey Chance, take a look at this.” It was Tahoe. She was staring at the Darwin family portrait again. “There’s something about this photograph,” she said. “Something, I don’t know, familiar about it. I think I need a fresh set of eyes.”

  The portrait was a daguerreotype, a photograph tinted to a rust color around the edges, of the Darwin family gathered in their living room for a requisite family picture.

  Charles Darwin and his wife, Emma, had 10 children. Two died in infancy, and another daughter died at the age of 10. Darwin blamed himself for their premature deaths. Emma had been his first cousin, and he suspected that their inbreeding had somehow led to inherited weaknesses in his children. He hadn’t yet figured out the mechanism, the idea of heritable genes was still decades away from being discovered, but he had been working on an idea that might just explain for their illnesses.

  Darwin and Emma stood in the middle of the room, flanked by their children on either side. None smiled widely. Chance imagined that Darwin’s children probably didn’t love posing for the laborious photographic process. With such a large number of people crowded into the frame, little in the background was visible. They in the middle of a room, on a floor of wooden boards and a small circular rug. Behind them was a large bureau, topped with a display of white plates.

  “Her necklace?” Chance asked. He pointed to Emma’s distinctive-looking pendant that hung from a chain. There was a faint image on the pendant. “Does that look like Jesus to you?”

  Tahoe squinted. “Yeah, I think it is. So?”

  “Seems like a strange thing for the wife of Darwin to wear, doesn’t it? His theory of evolution essentially obliterated belief in religion.”

  “Maybe this picture was taken before he published his book.”

  “Or maybe it’s nothing.”

  Tahoe glanced from the portrait to t
he middle of the study, then back to the portrait. Her face brightened. “There,” she said. “It’s the rug.”

  Chance’s brow furrowed. “What? It’s just a rug. Can’t even tell what color it is.”

  “You don’t need to know the color,” she said. “Because it’s right over there.” She turned and pointed to the center of study.

  Chance saw immediately that she was right. The small rug in the room had the same embroidered design of swirling flowers and branches. The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile.

  “Give us a hand over here!” Chance shouted. “We need to move this globe.”

  It took three of them — Chance, Jenny and Wolfie — to lift the globe and move it to the corner of the room, out of the way. Kate and Tahoe were already rolling up the rug before Chance even had an opportunity to catch his breath.

  There was nothing under the rug.

  Tahoe shoulders sagged. “Damn, I really thought we had something there.”

  “Leo said there would be red herrings,” Chance said. “And we just wasted precious time.”

  “We have 40 minutes left,” Kate announced.

  “There’s got to be something with that turtle,” Wolfie said. “Let’s go back to that. And that bookcase is hiding something. No way they have an entire bookcase on that wall without a clue somewhere in there.”

  Deflated, they turned from the slightly discolored floor, leaving the rug folded up. Chance started to move to take another look at the turtle, but stopped when he noticed Kate staring at the bare spot on the floor. “Kate?”

  Kate dropped to the floor on her knees. She ran both hands along the wooden slats, feeling for the grooves. She knocked on several of the slats with her knuckles, head tilted, listening intently to the sound each made. Then, she turned to Chance and smiled. “Watch this.”

  With a fist, Kate rapped hard on the end of a wide slat. A half-second later, a small knob sprung up from the floor. It was little more than a nub, barely visible, but large enough for Kate to grasp with her thumb and forefinger. She tugged on the knob, and the wooden plank swung open.