All who seek it shall meet its gaze,
From the great mire it will spawn.
I could barely see it through the haze,
As I gained aid from the encroaching dawn.
The dreaded monster, from which its green eyes did see;
A muddled curmudgeon corrupt with ever-seeking desire.
Not a shred of piety could starve his need for currency.
It was his incessant greed which made things dire.
And even now, as a chorus of demons proclaim his demise.
A shadowy figure was to sift through the lies.
His death was a mystery, most clearly it was.
But as of now, we have no idea the cause.
All that was left was a note that said:
“To my dear nephew Henry, soon I will be dead.
I fear my time has come, for the beast will have my head.
My greed was great, as you have previously read.
As to the whereabouts of my fortune, it has never been said.
Still, the beast pursues me, behind a shadowy figure.
I’m being stalked, it’s bewildering, I have nowhere to linger.
As for whereabouts of my money, I have made sure to keep it safe.
You will find your first clue at the bottom of Radwell lake.
I’m sure my time is soon to come, and the town is bound to be happy,
But I am entrusting my fortune to you dear Henry, and you better make it snappy!”
I keep the letter in my left breast pocket, as I explore this hapless marsh.
It seems I am in great trouble, I pray it is a farce.
A shadow is lurking, and it does not seem pleasant.
Perhaps it is tracking me like a mere pheasant.
In my little rowboat, I may unravel this mystery
Of uncle’s murderer and rewrite history.