Trey had been right. The room was dust-laden and musty. Joe stood in the doorway, watching as Darcy opened the old windows, letting in some fresh cool air.

The four-poster canopied bed was against the far wall. A delicate crocheted throw was draped over the high bed. Two tall tables served as night-stands complete with old-fashioned oil-burning lamps. A dresser with an arched mirror was against another wall while two chairs sat beneath the windows with a small table between them.

The wall opposite the dresser boasted a red-brick fireplace. Darcy nodded to it. “It shares a flue with the fireplace in the parlor. The only other bedroom that has a fireplace is ours which is above the library.”

Frank and Joe shared a look. “We’ll check the fireplace.”

Laura gave her sons an amused look. “Boys, that usually happens in movies.”

Frank grinned. “Well, as Dad always says, leave no stone unturned.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “I think someone else said that. He just uses it as his motto. I’ll flip you for right or left.”

Frank sighed. “I’ll take left. Save you having to flip a coin.”

“Fine, I wanted the right side anyway.”

Darcy laughed softly as she and Laura tackled the dresser drawers. “They sound like Trey and Trevor.”

“They seem like nice boys.”

Darcy nodded. “They are. I was so nervous when I first met them. They were little tykes, mind you, but I was still nervous.”

Laura gave her a puzzled look as she started taking items from one of the drawers. “Met them?”

Darcy nodded. “Their mother had died givin’ birth to them. Poor Sarah. James said she wasn’t made for having babies, especially not twins. He hadn’t realized the danger until too late. Trey and Trevor were just over a year old and oh my, they were a pair.”

“I would have never guessed,” Laura said softly.

“I adored them from the moment I saw them, but I was still nervous. I’d never been around little ones before.” Darcy gave a small laugh. “But they were angels...” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “With their halos supported by a pair of horns,” she added, smiling.

Laura chuckled. “Aren’t all boys?”

Joe glanced over at Frank. “Talking about us when we’re in the room,” he whispered.

“Would you prefer it when we weren’t in the room?”

“Oh be quiet.” Joe started at the base of the fireplace and proceeded to press or try to wiggle each brick. By the time he’d reached the mantel, he was ready to call it quits. All the bricks seemed firmly in place. He peeked into the fireplace and promptly sneezed.

“Nothing,” Frank muttered. “Did you check the flue?”

Joe gave his brother a withering look. “Considering that the fireplace in the parlor looked used, don’t you think the flue would have to be open in here?”

“You’ve got a point.” Frank crouched down to look at the hearth. “Did you check these?”

“Did you?”

Frank didn’t answer, he just started tugging on the bricks. Joe sighed and shifted to do the same when his foot hit the wooden floor. It made an odd sound and he stopped. “Frank...”

Frank looked over at him and at the floorboard that Joe was standing on. “I heard it.”

Joe knelt down and rapped the floorboard in question, then rapped one on either side of it. “Definitely different sound.”

The brothers moved an old faded Persian rug out of the way and found the edge of the floorboard. It wasn’t hard to pry it up. Nestled inside was a small lockbox.

Darcy came over to them. “Oh my.”

Frank pulled up the lockbox and found it tied shut. He untied the knot only to have the string break in pieces. He raised the lid to find a stack of parchment envelopes. “I think we found what we were looking for.”

Darcy took the top envelope and frowned. “This has Aiden Connelly’s name on it.”

Joe got to his feet. “See what’s inside it.”

Darcy opened the flap, noting the red wax stamped seal was broken, but she could still make out a stylized letter G. She pulled out a folded sheet of parchment and opened it.

She went pale and sat down heavily in the nearest chair. “Oh no,” she whispered.

Joe shifted to look over her shoulder, catching the signature of the letter writer. “Erin Gallagher.”

“They...” Darcy cleared her throat. “Callum had been right to distrust Aiden Connelly,” she said, barely above a whisper but her voice throbbed with anger.

Both windows slammed shut, making the window panes rattle loudly. The door swung closed and the temperature in the room plunged to nearly freezing. Laura blinked, startled and went to try the door. “It’s locked.”

Frank got to his feet and moved to try and open a window but it wouldn’t budge. “It happens every time the truth comes out,” he said, his breath fogging in the chill air.

“Meaning Aiden doesn’t want anyone knowing the truth,” Joe said. He turned to Darcy. “I think you should agree to the show, Mrs. MacBannon and lay this thing to rest once and for all.”

Darcy shivered. “All these years everyone’s believed the worst of Maureen and Glenna Murphy, the poor nanny...” She lifted a shaking hand and wiped a tear away.

“We need to get out of here,” Frank said, shaking from the cold.

Darcy didn’t move, she just stared at the letter in her hands. “He killed them. He killed his own daughter and his wife. If Glenna hadn’t returned...”

The temperature dropped even more and the light bulb overhead flickered like it was going to go out. Darcy shook her head. “Oh, Maureen...”

The door shook in its frame and then popped open. A scent of lilac filled the room as it began to warm up. Darcy’s hazel eyes went wide as she stared at the now open door.

Slowly, the windows creaked up a bit but not as wide as they had been open. For a moment, the lilac scent grew stronger and then faded away on a warm breeze that wafted out the cracks in the windows.

“Th-that’s never happened before,” Darcy said, still whispering.

Joe and Frank shared a look and then went back to the lockbox. “I wonder if there’s more in here,” Frank said, moving the stack of parchment envelopes.

Joe pointed to a sheaf of papers. “Look.” He pulled out the old yellowed papers. One side of the small papers were jagged. He handed the papers to Darcy. “I think we just found the missing pages from Maureen’s journal.”

Darcy took the papers, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I never thought there’d be anything in this room to help us. I never thought we could stop the haunting. I grew up with it, I just figured the children would grow up with it. When Trinity was a little girl, she even played with Aishling. I saw no harm in it but all these years...”

Laura stepped over to Darcy. “It’s all right. The truth will come out now.”

Darcy looked over at the boys. “You really think that we should let the TV show go on? Won’t that just cause more problems?”

Joe shook his head. “Not if you give them this new information. They’ll help tell the world the truth. That possibly Glenna saved the other little girl single-handedly. That possibly if she did kill Aiden it was in self-defense, not cold-blooded murder.”

Darcy gave a slow nod. “Let me call James, tell him what we’ve found.” She got to her feet and started for the door, only to stop. “Oh no.”

Laura arched an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Trey and Trevor. They’re up to something, possibly causing a bunch of little practical jokes or worse. Last year they rigged a séance that scared Trinity nearly to death. Oh dear.”

Joe and Frank shared a look. “We’ll go look for them, tell them what we found.”

Darcy gave them a pleading look. “Please. We need to tell the world the truth and knowing Trey and Trevor, they definitely have something wicked up their proverbial sleeves.”

Joe tugged on Frank’s arm. “We’ll go looking now.”

It wasn’t until they were back outside on the sidewalk that Frank turned to Joe. “Now how do you figure we’re going to find them? Dublin’s a big city.”

“True, but we know for certain where Trinity is. We’ll just ask her.”

Frank sighed and shook his head as they headed for the Shelbourne. They followed O’Connell Street and crossed the River Liffey. They passed by Trinity College and squeezed down Grafton Street past tourists and busy shoppers, finally reaching St. Stephen’s Green.

They entered the lobby of The Shelbourne, relieved to see Trinity at the desk. Joe took a deep breath. “Trinity, do you know where your brothers are?”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “What have they done now?”

Frank moved closer. “It’s what they might do.” He quickly told her what they had found and how actually letting the TV show do an episode on Driscol Manor House might just end the haunting.

Trinity stared at him, stunned. “You’re kidding. You really found proof? Wow.”

Joe cleared his throat. “Trey and Trevor?”

Trinity took a deep breath and leaned over the front desk, dropping her voice to a whisper. “They have a friend over on Grafton. He owns a little second-hand shop. Paddy finds things all over the city, knows how to rig just about anything.”

Joe frowned and glanced at Frank for a minute. “I thought Paddy was a police officer.”

Trinity laughed. “He is, so his sister runs the shop when he’s working.” She grinned. “It’s a long story. Anyway, Paddy’s off on Tuesdays, usually, so he’d be there. It’s a little shop right by Conn’s Camera Centre.”

Joe shared another look with Frank. “Okay. Thanks, Trinity.” They waved good bye and left the Shelbourne, heading back to Grafton Street. “Con,” he said, bursting into laughter.

Frank grinned. “Who knows, maybe it’s a relation. After all, Riley is an Irish surname.”

The brothers hurried down Grafton, luckily this time going with the flow of pedestrians. Paddy’s little shop was squeezed next to Conn’s Camera Centre and only boasted a narrow bright green door and one small window, displaying old packing cases, and even older telephones.

Frank and Joe walked in to find the front of the shop empty. The stuff scattered on tables and shelves looked part rummage sale cast-offs and part junk. Joe picked up what looked like a large needle with a bent tip. “What the heck is this?”

“Cead mile failte,” said a female voice from behind them. “I’m Amena Thornton. Paddy’s busy at the moment, can I help you?”

Joe smiled at the black-haired girl. “I was wondering if Trey and Trevor MacBannon are here.”

She nodded. “They’re in back with Paddy. Friends?”

Frank nodded. “You could say that.”

“Come on back then. Paddy’s riggin’ a few things for tomorrow night.” She nudged Joe who was closer. “It’d be even better if it was Halloween.”

They stepped back behind the counter and found a back area worthy of a mad scientist. More bizarre stuff was scattered around, some of it cobbled together with wire and glue looking like mutated creatures or something. Paddy had the same black hair and blue eyes as his sister. He spared them a glance and then looked at Amena.

“Trevor, Trey, found some friends of yours.”

Trey’s smile vanished when he saw them. “What are you doing here?”

“How did you find us?” Trevor asked, sounding equally disgruntled.

“We found letters written to Aiden Connelly from Erin Gallagher. We also found the torn-out pages from Maureen’s journal. We know Aiden killed one of his daughters and his wife. Glenna acted in self-defense not premeditated murder,” Joe said, instead of answering Trevor’s question.

Trey stared at him. “Where?”

“In the original master bedroom,” Frank answered. “Along with musty air and dust-laden drapes.”

Trevor took a deep breath. “Paddy, wait a minute on that stuff.” He turned back to Joe and Frank. “So...Mam sent you to find us?”

Joe nodded. “If the TV show does an episode on your house, tells the world the truth, it might just end the haunting.”

Trey frowned. “So...you’re sayin’ we shouldn’t rig anything to scare everyone?”

“Considering what happened in the room after we found the letters, you won’t have to,” Frank said.

Trevor glanced back at Paddy. “Just hold on to that stuff. There’s always Halloween, especially if we lose our haunted house status.” He turned to see Joe and Frank staring at him. “Hey, it made for great parties on Halloween.”

Joe shook his head. “You two...”

Trey grinned. “Yeah, we know. Let’s go. Thanks, Paddy.” He gave Amena a quick kiss on the cheek. “Later for you, girl.”

Amena grinned and waved them out of the store. The four of them started back for Parnell Square on the north side of the Liffey. Trevor shook his head. “So...” He nudged his brother. “You know, Uncle John actually did us a favor. Guess we should hold off on the bog.”

Trey grunted. “A few Yanks managed to ruin all our fun. No more haunted house, no more playing in a bog...”

Joe glanced at him and saw him grinning. “So...Amena?”

“You scoping my girl now?” Trey asked.

Joe laughed. “No. I have one of my own at home.” He jabbed a thumb in Frank’s direction. “So does he.”

Trey gave a decisive nod. “Good. Scoping my girl would have led to a dual at dawn with pistols.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Considering he doesn’t get out of bed till half past ten every morning, I wouldn’t fret too much, Joe. Idle threats from that one.”

“Maybe for him, but not for you.”

Trevor laughed and took off running down O’Connell Street, dodging around the pedestrians. Trey started running after him. Frank watched them go. “Well, it’s been an interesting visit here so far.”

“And we still have the rest of the week,” Joe said, laughing.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.