It was the most unusual and intriguing music box I had ever laid eyes on, and I had seen quite a few in my twenty-five years as an antiques and curios dealer. Atop an exquisitely carved wooden box encasing the mechanism that produced the sound, sat an exquisitely crafted wooden clown with a rather deadly smirk on its face, clothed in a brightly coloured costume adorned with gold braid trimmings. It appeared to work by winding a handle on the side to make it play a whimsical tune with bells. I was allowed to try it but the tune was nothing I recognised. The moment I saw it in the auction room I knew I had to have it.

     Despite being over a hundred years old, according to the listing in the auction catalogue, it was in excellent condition and the mechanism still worked. Its provenance was a little sketchy though – probably French but there was little else to provide clues to its origins. Provenance is important when dealing with antiques and curios so I approached the auctioneer to see if he had any more information

     “It came from a deceased estate,” he began. “The name of the last owners was Carlyle. Such a tragedy,” he added. “I’ll provide you with the estate administrators' contact details, if you like.”

    “Thanks, that would be great,” I replied, curious to know more. I was determined to buy it anyway. With little provenance, the price was going to be affordable I suspected.

     The bidding went smoothly, and as there were only a couple of less enthusiastic bidders, I was soon heading back to the shop with my new treasure and a few other interesting bits and pieces.

     There was really only one spot in the shop for my music box - in the middle of the front window display. I didn’t put a price on it. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted to sell it anyway but being in the window it was sure to capture the attention of passersby, who hopefully, would come inside and become customers. 

     “Oh, that was a real tragedy,” the estate administrator began when I contacted him the next day. “The entire family died in a disastrous house fire. Two very young children were deprived of a future and they were only just back from their trip of a lifetime to Europe. Such a waste.”

     “Well, it’s actually the music box I bought at the auction and added to my collection that I am interested in. Do you know anything about it?” I asked, trying not to sound too disinterested in the awful circumstances by which I had acquired it. I vaguely remembered something in the news about a house fire recently but gave it no more thought.

     “Oh, that creepy thing,” he replied, “One of the few items that survived the fire, heaven knows how. Sorry, I don’t know much about the music box except that I think they probably brought back from their trip.”

     The music box was definitely creepy as he said but I was used to unusual things and had always been attracted to items that might be described as different, especially anything macabre. At times I did feel the strange clown’s eyes following me around the shop. The little bells he held in his hands would ring when someone entered the shop. As it turned out, rather than being annoying, the ringing of the bells was quite useful as it alerted me while I was busy online researching French music boxes to get some clues to their origin and history. I had already thoroughly inspected every bit of the box inside and out, looking for a makers’ mark or date to no avail.

     As I was now quite certain that it had French origins, I started to search for information on music box makers around the time the auctioneer had suggested. It was then I came across an article in a French newspaper dated around 10 years ago. Although my French is a bit limited, I did manage to get the gist of it. It was a mysterious fire where a house burned down killing all its occupants. Only a strange music box survived the inferno. The photo attached to the article was a bit fuzzy but I could make out the silhouette of the music box and the distinctive clown. It had to be it! I instantly printed it out and arranged to take it to a friend, who was more fluent in the language and had connections in the antique market in France.

       I am not sure if it was the smell of the smoke or the fire engine sirens that woke me abruptly from a deep sleep that night. Regardless, I was quickly out the window, carefully navigating my way down the rickety fire stairs in the dark. Thank heavens the old building that housed my shop and living quarters above it still had one, although it was in desperate need of repair.

     Soon I was standing in the street wrapped in a blanket along with many of my neighbours, watching everything that mattered to me… the shop and all its wonderful antiques and curios, burn to the ground. 

    The source of the fire is still under investigation. An electrical fault, they suspect as the building was quite old and had not been maintained well enough, I was told by experts. But I had another idea that would have been too weird to share and no one would have believed me anyway. True to the history I had been discovering about it, once again, the music box was the only item in the shop that survived.

     I often wonder why it spared me but I'll never know because as much as I still loved it, the music box went straight back to the auction house the very next day.