The Hayloft. A 1950s Mystery

sometime ago and perhaps carried around for a while. It hadn’t always been in the binder.
    I read what it said. “N hidden in blue box in the hayloft, southwest corner, hole in the floor under the bales.” The map clearly labeled the “N” that marked the necklace as being in the southwest corner also.
    “But Eddie told us the necklace was hidden in the northwest corner of the hayloft,” Kate said.
    I had spotted that discrepancy at the same time.
    “Eddie lied to me—to us. I’m not surprised. He’s always lying.”
    “Is that your mother?” I asked, hearing the sound of a car in the driveway.
    “She’s home early. Quick. Put the notebook back where you found it.”
    I complied, closing the notebook and placing it under the nudist magazines. Then I slid the drawer shut. We scurried out of the room. As we did, I saw the magazine Kate had been looking at sitting on the bed. I picked it up.
    “There isn’t time to put it away,” Kate said. “Hide it and take it with you.”
    She shut the door to Ed’s room. The only place I could think of to hide the magazine was under my shirt and undershirt, stuck into my belt. It felt cold against my stomach. I quickly tucked my shirt back in and realized that I had to be careful how I moved or the pages of the pulp magazine would crackle.
    “Will your mother be okay with me being here with you?” I asked, belatedly, as we heard her at the front door.
    “Sure. You’re my cousin. You’ve been helping me with my homework.” She pulled me into the living room and sat me down beside her on the sofa. She flipped open one of her schoolbooks.
    “Besides, you’re taking me to the autumn dance.” She gave me a quick kiss just as the door opened.
    ***
    Aunt Dorothy got home before I did. She parked her car in a garage-like room at the end of the barn beside the road. I saw her car through a barn window as I walked past, after parking my car in the shed on the side of the barn nearest the railroad track. Uncle Jeff parked his car in the old carriage house, located at the end of the driveway where it curved behind our house and became the start of the lane. One advantage of living on an old farm was that there were lots of buildings in which to park cars.
    I walked around the house and went in via the kitchen door, which Aunt Dorothy had left unlocked. She had changed from her good clothes into a housedress and was already preparing dinner. I said hello to her and took a cookie from the cookie jar. Now that I was convinced Ralph had created the paper that told about hiding the necklace, I had more questions.
    “Did you ever talk to Ralph about the diamond necklace?” I began, tentatively.
    “I might have mentioned it once or twice,” she said, “but I think I told you that I never put any stock in those stories. I don’t believe there ever was a necklace in the family, or if there was, it’s long gone.”
    “So there is no reason to believe that the necklace actually existed.”
    “No reason. In fact, I had forgotten all about it until the Drucquers showed up a year ago and started talking about it. If there are any rumors being spread, you can credit them with doing the spreading.”
    She said this so positively that it was hard not to believe her. And I had never known Aunt Dorothy to lie. So how did Ralph find the necklace, if indeed he did? And if not, why did he draw the map and write about the location of the necklace?”
    “By the way, I’ve asked Kate to the autumn dance a week from Saturday.”
    “Kate Drucquer? Well, she is a sweet girl, although perhaps a little young for you. But didn’t Tom take a liking to her? Of course, he’s only seen her the one time.”
    Tom. I had forgotten all about him. Well, it was too late to do anything now. I needed to make a phone call to Barney, to talk him into asking Sylvia to the dance. I took the top off the cookie jar and extracted another cookie.
    “What’s that rustling noise I hear whenever you move?” Aunt Dorothy asked. “It sounds like somebody turning the pages of a newspaper.”
    It was the magazine. I made some lame comment about my underwear being too stiff and headed for the stairs, which I took two at a time. Once up in my room, I removed the magazine and slid it through the crack between the bottom of my dresser and the floor. I hoped Aunt Dorothy wouldn’t find it there. I needed to examine it more closely to get some answers to questions I had.
    But the next thing I did was to