I found Dad.
“What is going on?”
He led me away from Richard.
“Remember that strange calcium deposit I mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“The pipe had failed in an unusual way. The buildup suggested something outside the pipe was creating pressure.”
“So?”
“So I excavated around it.”
“And?”
“I found a box.”
I stared at him.
“A box?”
“A sealed metal box. Buried underground.”
He explained that according to old permits, the pool had been constructed about twenty-two years earlier near the original property line.
When Dad uncovered the box, he noticed faded writing on the side.
A family name.
He recognized that the house currently standing there had not always existed.
So instead of opening the box alone, he contacted Eleanor.
She had lived on the street for fifty years.
She knew the family named on the box.
The previous property had belonged to a Hungarian immigrant named Tibor, a watchmaker who spent decades repairing watches and clocks.
