It had taken them most of the day to break through the cellar wall - a whole day of hard labour with pickaxe and sledgehammer. Now, under the iron beams that formed the foundation of their late grandfather's house, the Helmann twins were tired and covered in masonry dust. But they were only one hammer blow away from -
"Why did the old fart have to hide it?" Sam complained.
Her brother, Vivian, shook his head. "What makes you think I know? I didn't even know that he existed until I read the will."
"Yeah, well. Let's get on with it. Less talk, more walk."
Vivian hefted his hammer, then glanced back at his twin sister. "Keep back."
Sam retreated a couple of steps - as much as she could in the tight confines of the cellar - and hid her face in the crook of her arm. "Go for it."
There was a hollow crunch as the sledgehammer hit the wall, cracking it enough to open a small hole through to the other side. "There. Get the pickaxe." Together the wins pulled at the concrete, turning the wall into rubble. "I think we can get through now."
Sam, being the more slender of the two, was the first to go through the hole. Her brother called through after her, "Anything?"
"Gimme a minute." Sam looked around, the beam of her headlamp lighting the walls and the floor.
"If grandfather has stiffed us - !"
"He's dead. What are you gonna do? Dig up his corpse and take a shit on it?" Dam glanced back at her brother, momentarily blinding him. "Let me look."
On the floor, covered in dust-mired cobwebs, was a box with a padlock run through a loop on the lid. Sam crouched down and wiped away the layers of grime and dead woodlice from its surface. Behind her, Vivian cursed. "No key. Typical."
"Who needs a key?" Ignoring her brother's protests, Sam forced the point of her pickaxe through the hasp of the look, breaking it into useless scrap. "There." She opened the box. Inside it, wrapped in newspaper as brittle as autumn leaves, was an oilskin pouch and a legal envelope.
"So, that's grandfather's legacy?" Vivian reached for the pouch.
Sam slapped his hand away. "Show some respect. Let's see what the old man had to say first." She took the envelope from the box and undid the thread sealing it.
"Well?"
The ink on the note inside the envelope was faded but legible. Only one can inherit. Sam looked up at Vivian. "What?"
"What did the old man have to say?"
Sam smiled. Just some crap about string. Why don't you open that thing up s we see what's in it?"
She tightened her grip on the pickaxe handle.
