Page 168 - THE ATTACK ON THE FERRISWHEEL- 200 PAGES FREE OFFER

“Look here."

She bends down and takes a jewellery box in black wood, which has been
placed under the desk; she carefully puts it on the table in front of them. The

jewellery box is about twenty centimetres long and ten centimetres high. It’s a

deep black box with artfully crafted patterns painted with a red glowing colour.
"These are the old family heirlooms, baptismal spoons, jewellery and love

letters from Johan's great-grandmother to a man she has known, I believe."

Tom moves forward so he can see better her opening the box.
Inside are three fine gold necklaces with stones and emblems on a small lined

piece of raw material. Next to it are various gold rings - all jewelled, and six gold
bracelets, plus several silver and gold spoons with symbols and engravings; the

box is lined with blue plush. Tom is by no means an expert, but the sight of the

shiny diamonds and fine gold and silver pieces in the beautiful old jewellery box
is impressive he can tell. There is no doubt in his mind that what he sees is

jewellery created by the finest of jewellers one can imagine.

"Look here!" She gently lifts a small plush-bound plate aside that sits on the
jewellery box lid.

"Here are the letters I'm talking about."
She shows him the four fine yellow envelopes and gently opens one of them and

takes the letter forward and holds it in front of him.

The letter is dated October 1940.
“I can't read what it says, and I've never heard Johan mention anything about

either that or the other things. I mean, he once said he hid his grandmother's

love letters because he thought they were so cute. Secondly, I don't remember
what we've been talking about. I just kept the things because it was his. I have

not wanted to sell it, or actually wear it, even though it’s fine craftsmanship, and

my daughter feels the same way. We think it should’ve been handed over to the
police, who hopefully could get something useful out of it. "

Tom feels weird. He has the same feeling like he once had when entering a

closed-off and allegedly very sacred Inca temple, on his last visit to South
America. Like witnessing something very intimate.

"Beautiful!" he exclaims.
Beatrice takes out a fine gold necklace that consists of flat, neatly twisted pieces