A Christmas Mystery

I don't plan on writing any other stories but I wanted to challenge myself to write a Christmas story that was different. There is absolutely no sex, just a story that I hope you will enjoy. Everyone except Mark is real. The relationships are also real. The story though is fiction. On a side note, after my sister, a writer, read it she said wanted to kill me when I said it only took a few hours to write.

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My name is Mark, I'm 26, an only child, and I'm from a small town in Bedford County, Virginia. You know the kind of place. Friendly and everyone knows everyone. Now, Bedford County isn't known for much but there is one thing that just about everyone in Bedford County knows about ... buried treasure. In 1885 a group of three codes was published called The Beale Papers describing a great treasure that was buried somewhere in Bedford County. But, like I said, it was in code so you had to break the code to find the treasure. If you are interested in seeing what I wasted weeks of my life on, search Wikipedia for Beale ciphers.

Anyway, I eventually gave up my dream to become rich and famous by breaking a code that might have been a hoax in the first place and started to really think about what I wanted to do with my life. After high school, I didn't really have a plan so I just took odd jobs while trying to figure it out. I enjoyed puzzles but was not really interested in Math or Science so I decided that I would concentrate on English or History. My parents were happy when I told them that I decided to go to college but not so happy when I said that I didn't want to go to a local college. I told them I would return for Christmas and summer recess but I could tell they still weren't happy.

Small town life was not really what I wanted but I wasn't ready to trade it for big city life either. I settled on the University of California in Santa Barbara, a decision that changed my life more than I could have imagined.

Some people go to college to party but that isn't me, so no wild drinking or sex orgies. I guess I was your typical, boring, serious student and I still had small town morals.

After studying at the college for about two years, I took a course with a history professor named Dr Harold Marcuse, a man with a passion for the subject. That was the moment that I knew that History would be my calling too. So, one day after class I approached the professor.

"Dr Marcuse?"

"Yes, Mark, what can I do for you?"

"I am considering making History my college major and I wonder if you would be willing to talk to me about my career choices if I do that?"

"Sure, I'd be glad to. Can you meet me at the campus coffee shop at noon?"

"Perfect. My next class isn't until 2:30. See you there."

I arrived at the coffee shop before Dr Marcuse and as was my habit, I started work on a crossword puzzle in a newspaper I had picked up. I still loved puzzles even though I had no luck with the Beale codes.

"Mark?"

"Oh, sorry professor, I didn't notice you. I was just doing a crossword puzzle. Please sit."

"Do you do crossword puzzles often?"

"Yeah, I've always enjoyed puzzles, for as long as I can remember."

"Maybe after our conversation about careers you can help me with a puzzle that I inherited."

That remark really threw me. A puzzle that he inherited? After that I could barely concentrate on the professor's words about careers in government and education. I just wanted to hear about the puzzle.

"Professor, thank you for taking the time to talk to me about careers but now can you tell me about the puzzle?"

"Well, it was passed down from my grandfather to me. It was supposedly given to him by a very good friend. Unfortunately nobody has been able to solve it yet. Would you like to see it?"

I could barely contain myself as I said "Yes."

"OK. I'll bring a copy of it to our next class. I have to go now. I have some student papers to grade. Nice talking to you, Mark."

I don't know how long I just sat there. A puzzle, maybe a hundred years old. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep much just thinking about it. I couldn't concentrate much on the professor's next lecture. All I could think about was the puzzle. After class I walked up to him and he handed me an envelope.

"Mark, I hope you have better luck than our family has had in solving this puzzle."

"Professor, is there anything else you can tell me about the puzzle?"

"The story that I was told is that it was handed to my grandfather Herbert Marcuse on Christmas Eve in 1963 and it had been in the possession of the other person's family for 100 years."

"Do you know who the other person was?"

"Unfortunately that information has been lost over time."

"Well, professor, I'll do my best."

With the envelope in my possession I walked nervously back to my dorm room. I was lucky enough not to have a roommate to distract me. I had so many questions. The professor said this puzzle was 159 years old. Was it real or a hoax like the Beale papers? Why did the person write this puzzle? Who was the unknown friend and was giving it away on Christmas Eve important? My mind was going crazy and I hadn't even opened the envelope yet.

I don't know why but my hands were shaking as I carefully opened the envelope.

I unfolded the paper and read the letter.

This paper has been included with my will and is to be given to my son Benjamin. I have always been a private person and my greatest accomplishment was published anonymously by someone without my knowledge. Much later I tried to claim ownership but many do not believe me. At this point in my life I don't care what the rest of the world believes. I just would like my family to know the truth so I have included this message. The message is just for family so it has been written in code but I am confident Benjamin will figure it out.

Troy, New York

December 23, 1823

9, 152, 16, 8, 1, 90, 47, 37, 2, 59, 6, 48, 10, 3, 205, 7, 25, 104, 127, 88, 53, 78, 5, 38, 35, 20, 7, 47, 53, 2, 4, 127, 3, 127, 85, 52, 8, 2, 43, 1, 7, 123, 160, 274, 56, 4, 1, 15, 16, 104, 48,

140, 243, 267, 19, 20, 9, 203, 198, 17, 46, 8, 1, 6, 14, 7, 168, 169, 123, 4, 3, 259, 8, 52, 86, 87, 167, 57, 3, 259, 1, 51, 43, 219, 114, 13, 14, 6, 9, 8, 167, 88, 56, 57, 259, 3, 25, 123, 203, 267, 219, 3, 264, 8, 12, 123, 47, 102, 123, 1, 202, 4, 245, 33, 46, 10, 3, 51, 114, 1, 48, 114, 126, 99, 51, 33, 7, 25, 162, 47, 1, 51, 34, 3, 218, 252, 162, 243, 16, 126, 158, 159

I now realized how important this puzzle was to the family. It was obvious that Benjamin never figured out his father's last message and, in an effort to solve it the family passed it to a friend in the hope he could do what they couldn't in 100 years. I quickly looked on both sides of the page. Neither side had the writer's name. He really made my job difficult.

I just looked at the letter in disbelief. It was a code like The Beale papers ... all numbers. The trick to solving the Beale papers was finding something called a key document. One person chooses any document and numbers the letters of it in order.. Then the person uses those numbers to write a message. The person getting the message then uses a copy of the same document to read it. In the Beale papers one key document was the Declaration of Independence. So, in one of the Beale papers the numbers 115, 73, 24, 807 could be translated by writing the 115th letter, the 73rd letter, the 24th letter, and the 807th letter of the Declaration of Independence.

I failed at finding any other key documents for the Beale papers. How was I going to find the key document for this one? My head hurt at the possibilities. Maybe sleep would help, I thought, so I just put the papers down and closed my eyes.

Morning came quickly and I knew I couldn't tackle the codes until after my classes so I just dressed, shaved, brushed my teeth and prepared for another school day.

When I returned home, I tried to make some sense of the letter. At least I had a new clue. The writer had a son named Benjamin but I didn't think that got me any closer to the answer.

What else did I know? The letter was given to Herbert Marcuse in 1963 after being in the other person's family for 100 years. So that gets us to 1863. Did the key document have anything to do with the Civil War? Maybe the Gettysburg Address or The Emancipation Proclamation. I'll have to pull them up on my laptop and print them out. Thank God for technology. I don't have to spend a whole day at the college library.

It didn't take long to realize that those two documents were not the key document.

I then thought that maybe I could get some information on Herbert Marcuse on Wikipedia. Maybe there is some mention of his friends. Unfortunately that was a dead end too. It listed him as a German philosopher who influenced many of the radical left but no mention of his friends. I needed another break to clear my mind.

The next day I had a class with Dr Marcuse and after class he came up to me.

"Any luck yet, Mark?"

"Sorry, Dr Marcuse, just a few leads that haven't gotten me closer."

"Well, don't get discouraged. The secret has remained locked away for almost 160 years."

"I'm not ready to give up yet. Hell, I just started."

"OK, I really hope you can solve this mystery. Take care."

As I walked away I had the feeling that there was something in the letter that I missed but I didn't know what it was.

It was exactly 3:15 AM when I woke up from a deep sleep. They say the brain works even when you are sleeping and I realized what it was about the letter that bothered me. The letter was included in the man's will around 1863 but the letter was dated December 23, 1823. That had to be important. I would have to investigate if anything memorable happened on that date.

Researching a date is not usually as easy as researching a name but a miracle happened when I googled December 23, 1823. There were links to The Troy Sentinel newspaper. Something happened in Troy, New York on December 23, 1823 and Troy, New York was written on the mystery letter. That couldn't be a coincidence!

I clicked on the internet link and there it was, on page 3 of the Troy Sentinel, mixed in with all of the regular news. It was a poem. The newspaper admitted that although they did not know who wrote it, they liked it so much that they printed it anyway. It was titled "A Visit from St. Nicholas" although we all call it now "'Twas The Night Before Christmas".

I printed out the original poem since there were spelling differences from the modern version and I started substituting letters for numbers. Slowly the message appeared.

Troy, New York

December 23, 1823

I don't know who gave my poem to the newspaper. I wrote it just for you, my children.

There is a first draft copy behind our family painting. It is my legacy to you.

Clement Clarke Moore

I don't know how I got to sleep that night. My adrenaline level was through the roof. Now the pieces fell into place. Wikipedia lists Benjamin as one of the sons of Clement Clarke Moore and Herbert Marcuse was listed as a good friend of Barrington Moore Jr who was one of Clement Moore's descendants.

I practically ran to class the next day to show Dr Marcuse the translation. He said he is going to try to contact members of the Moore family to tell them the news. Christmas break is just around the corner and what a perfect Christmas present this will be.