Andrea Blumberg

I had been wanting to do a puzzle where its very nature as a puzzle was hidden.  Unless you knew it was a puzzle, you wouldn't even think to try to "solve" it.  I also wanted to have multiple layers to it, so that each clue would send you back over the same territory to find new information each time.

The present for this one was a novelty ice cube tray that made ice cubes in the shapes of gems, and I wrapped it in gold wrapping paper.  The puzzle for you to solve is "where in Justin's house did he go looking for (and find) it?"
 

THE RHYME OF THE ANCIENT BURGLER

by Samuel T. Icegolder
 

An ancient burglar meeteth three young men in “Bar H2O” and detaineth one.

It is an ancient Burglar,

And he stoppeth one of three.

‘By thy long beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?
 

‘Unhand me, let me go my way!’

‘Refuse me not, young Gael!

I guarantee, you’ll profit well

To listen to my tale.
 

‘Envisage with your inner eye

A circle made of jewels.

Diamonds fine and rubies rare,

And sapphires clear as pools.

‘Far finer than some heap of rocks!

I knew within my bones

The ancients truly worshipped these,

The authentic “Callanish Stones.”

‘Vainly, for them, had I scoured the Isle

The length and breadth across,

Until one fateful February

I met a man called Ross.’
 

Eyelid twitching, the old man paused,

And growled for a beer.

‘Sir, this is a water bar,

We don’t serve spirits here.”
 

‘I‘ll have an “Ice”,’ the young man said,

‘And one more for my mate.

Go on,’ he urged, ‘what happened next

On that chill and wintry date?’
 

Nettled by the dearth of drink

His words did hoarse unfold:

‘I answered his ad for a jewelry smith

Adept at smelting gold!

‘I knew that Ross’ secret safe

Teemed like a treasure chest,

And with my genius smelting skills,

I planned to defeather his nest.

‘For five long weeks I worked, and watched,

And schemed my clever schemes.

I caught his codes, I learned his ways,

I dreamed his glitt’ry dreams.

‘Certainly my aim was theft;

But also liberation.

A gem deserves a sparkling life,

Not safe-bound hibernation!

‘Now, first: I craved a foolproof plan,

For Ross was well defended.

Two alarms, a bodyguard

The safe always attended…

‘Well, always but for once a day

When Ross went out to dine,

And Lou the bodyguard made his rounds,

And for a minute the office was mine.

‘On that one minute hinged my chance,

And ne’er would it get better.

Resolute, I made my plan,

And followed it to the letter!’
 

Dropping his voice to a scarce heard rasp,

He prepared to divulge his deeds,

As the waiter splashed down two ice waters,

Dripping with sparkling beads.
 

Slowly, the old man slid his aside

With one extended finger.

‘I saw Ross leave, then Lou arose,

And me, I did not linger.

‘Nimbly, I nipped up behind old Lou

And followed him past the vault.

He left the room, I doubled back,

And made my swift assault.

‘Easy as cake I cracked the safe

And switched the jewels with paste.

Returned to my work as the door opened in,

And my heart within me raced.
 

‘Everything went just as smooth as glass,

But Ross was a suspicious sort.

Noting my diligent post-lunch labor,

He came my path athwart.

‘Unflappable, like a block of ice

No sun has hopes of melting,

He glared at me with his beady eyes

As I kept quietly smelting.
 

‘Minute upon minute drifted down

Like snow between us piling.

Bending over, he grabbed my wrist

And then…..he started smiling!
 

‘“Excellent work,” he said at last,

“I can always judge a man.

Remind me: you deserve a raise.”

So devious was his plan!
 

‘Woefully smug, I dropped my guard,

I let the hour grow late.

I had my hand on the exit door

When his voice said softly, “Wait.
 

‘“Let me help you with your bag,”

And he took it from my grasp,

First hefting its weight with a skeptical squint,

And then, undoing the hasp…
 

‘Lord, for a whisky,’ the old man moaned,

His eyelid insanely ablink,

‘There’s water, water every where,

But not a drop of drink!’
 

‘Have no fear,’ the young man cried,

‘For I am next of kin.

Elizabeth, get this man a Bells!’

And he turned back with a grin.
 

Long stretched the silent seconds out

In thirsty expectation:

The man for his drink, the boy for his tale,

Both bathed in perspiration.
 

Possessed, at last, of his amber ambrosia,

The old man cradled it dear,

Then knocked it back in one swift gulp.

‘Yellow, was I, with fear.
 

‘Old Ross upturned my haversack,

And shook out, with a clank,

Some books, my lunch and the large gold bar

I was taking to the bank.
 

‘Unsatisfied, he dropped the bag,

And seized me by the sleeve,

Patted my pockets, found nothing but fluff,

And, stunned, he let me pack up and leave!
 

‘Trembling still, as I arrived home,

I oped (with stolen keys)

A house I’d sacked while its owners snacked

On the fruits of the Antipodes.
 

‘Oh, home perhaps, but not home free,

For in front of the swift-setting sun

I could see Ross’s car sailing over the hill;

He had figured out what I had done.
 

‘Frantic, I stashed all the stones in that house

And plunged down the path to the quay.

I tell you, that man was a demon made flesh!

Nothing else could have caused me to flee.

‘Desperately, I jumped in a boat,

A long yellow double canoe.

Thrashed past the shallows as Ross skidded up.

His vehicle powerless to pursue.

‘Elated at last, I had just to await

The arrival of sunset’s sweet chill,

To sneak back to the house under cover of night—

Then my downfall flew over the hill.

‘My heart did stop, my jaw did drop

To rest upon my knees.

Swift swooped the chopper and Lou – that rat –

Forced me out to the open seas.

‘On waves and spume I frothed and fumed

About my treasured loss.

Unhinged, I wished I’d wrecked the Rat

And killed that Albert Ross!

‘Now left alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide, wide sea,

My eyes grew dim, my tongue swelled dry,

My boat became debris.

‘Death did hold me in his hand

And speak my final sentence.

Then a fishing boat plucked my bones from his bosom,

And allowed me my repentance.

‘Had I but known those stones were set

On staying on the isle,

I’d not have crossed their minion, Ross,

Nor undergone this trial!

‘Enough,’ said he, ‘my tale is done

The future lies with you:

You’re from that land, and with your hand

My curse you can undo.

‘My callous crime was not their theft,

But how it did unfold;

‘Tis a feckless fool who would free a jewel

By imprisoning it in gold.

‘Oh, go ungild that glistering ice

So I’ll no more be cursed

By the baleful backlash of my acts:

This torturous tic, this thirst!

‘Unravel, friend, the covert clues

To find the stash sublime

(They’re hidden, akin to gems in gold,

In the body of this rhyme).’

The Burglar left him to his quest,

The riddle to untwine;

Unless your wits untwist it first;

The riches, then, are thine.

Copyright © Andrea Blumberg 2016