As I walked slowly toward the bar, I took in the sight of photographs hanging crooked on the papered wall. Several showed dancers in this very room in 1920s outfits, and one depicted a three-piece band playing on the stage in the corner. The female singer wore a dazzling flapper dress and headband, with her hair styled in finger waves.
“Is this what I think it is?” I asked as I turned around.
Theo’s eyes were wide behind her glasses as she gazed around from her vantage point on Wyatt’s back.
“A speakeasy.” She said the words almost reverently.
Livy climbed up onto one of the creaky barstools. “What’s a speakeasy?”
“It’s a place where people would go to drink alcohol and dance back when alcohol wasn’t allowed,” I explained.
“Alcohol? Like beer?”
“Beer and other drinks.”
Livy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like the smell of beer.”
“You can set me down,” Theo said to Wyatt when they reached the bar.
“On one of the stools?” he asked.
“Maybe the chair.” She indicated one of two chairs tucked beneath the nearest of a half dozen small round tables.
He carefully lowered her to the floor and then guided her into the chair.
“Do you think Freddie knew about this place?” she asked.
“Someone’s been here recently,” I said. “There were footprints on the stairs before we came down.”
Wyatt let out a low whistle. He was behind the bar now, facing the bottles on the shelves, his back to the rest of us.
“What is it?” Theo asked eagerly.
“Someone might have been here recently, but this place must have been forgotten for a long time,” he said.
I joined him behind the bar. “Why do you say that?”
“These bottles. They date back to the 1920s. Some even earlier.”
“Maybe someone knew about them but didn’t bother to get rid of them,” Theo said.
“Maybe, if they didn’t know what they were looking at,” Wyatt conceded. “But some of these would be worth a lot of money these days.” He tapped a brown bottle. “Like this whiskey. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone would pay a few thousand dollars for it.”
“Seriously?” I said with surprise.
Livy popped up between me and the shelves. “Look at this, Auntie Em.”
She held up a small wicker basket. Inside was a vintage fountain pen, a lone pearl earring, and a single elbow-length glove.
“Where’d you find that?” I asked her.
She pointed to the lowest shelf. “Right there.”
“The speakeasy’s lost and found maybe?” I speculated.
“Can I see?” Theo called from the other side of the bar.
Livy scurried around to share her finds.
