Intervention

by Moriamo Onabanjo

  Chapter 2

  Sally walked slowly into her flat and tossed the keys into the can close by, groping around for the light switch; she turned on the light into the living room. Eyes glazed and red, sagging shoulders, flagging feet, she tossed her bag on to the couch, took of her shoes, jacket, skirt, dropping them on the floor as she walked into her bedroom and into the bathroom. “This will make me feel better,” she thought to herself, “maybe after a good soak in the tub, I can think and figure out a way to understand what just happened and my next course of action.”

  As she soaked in the bath tub and felt the warm water seep through her body, the calm soothing texture of the soap and water seemed to drain out the tension. So soothing was the water that it lulled her in to a semi conscious state. She saw herself in a trance, in a dark and grey tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a bright light; she forced her sagging and rigid legs to propel her towards the light.

  “I have to get to that light,” she thought to herself, “there is something there, I don’t know what it is but it is important I do.” She pushed her languid body to do her bid. Finally her body inched towards the light, until the light engulfed her and all she could see was light so bright she had to close her eyes. When she opened it, she found herself in what looked like an artist’s workshop. “Where am I?” She thought in a panic. She looked around and wondered whose workshop it was. A man walked in. His attire looked like those she saw daily in the museum. “My goodness,” she thought, “this is the 1800s and this man looks familiar. Of course, he is familiar, this is my favorite artist, Pierre de Prince. What is he doing? I have never seen this object before. It looks as if it is an instrument for time travel. Strange, there is nothing like this in the catalogue of his works.” While pondering on this, a man walked in, at first she could not recognize him, but in surprise she gasped, “This is Parker Robinson the famous inventor. I remember he and Pierre were colleagues and they corresponded regularly.” Parker picks up a mast beside Pierre as they speak and before Pierre could turn around to face him, he hits him hard on the head, Pierre slumps and hits his head hard on the bench behind him. Parker checks his heart and finds that it is no longer beating. Covering her mouth to keep from screaming, “Why will Parker do this?”

  Another man walks in through the door and takes Pierre’s legs while Parker takes his upper torso and they both carry Pierre out of the room. Suddenly, Sally feels the presence of Pierre, dazed, shaking, with tears running down his cheeks, “My brother, my own brother conspires with my friend to do away with me.” Turning to Sally, “I want my death avenged. You must expose their evil deeds.”

  “But how can I do this?” Sally asked, “This is the 18th century and I live in the 21st century.

  “I don’t know how you will do it, but please and please expose them, they must not get away with what they did.” Pierre pleaded. “Ambrose de Prince my great grandson lives in your time, he has an artifact that belonged to me which I passed on to my son who passed it on to his own son and then to Ambrose. Get in touch with him. It will answer your questions.”

  Sally lurched in the bathtub; she looked around her bathroom as her head moved from side to side, “Where am I? What just happened now? Where did I go to right now? Can it be true?” Sally wondered. Then she remembered the name Pierre had given her and quickly got out of the bathtub. Drying herself, she snatched her clothes off the hanger and dashed in to her home office. Switching on the computer she looked up Ambrose de Prince on the Internet. Sure enough his name came up as a rare book collector who had bookstores all over the world dealing in ancient and collectible books. She opened up her email and wrote the following to him,

  Dear Mr. Ambrose de Prince

  You don’t know me, but I am an art Historian writing about your great-grandfather, Pierre de Prince. Recently I discovered that your great grandfather had left you a piece he built. I was wondering if you would consider putting this in my book.

  Yours Sincerely

  Sally Wentworth

  2000 N St. #650

  NW, Washington, DC 20036

  202-555-6865

  Ambrose de Prince sat at his desk, the headquarters to his chain of rare bookstores. He opened his laptop and noticed that he had several emails. Glancing through them, he realized that most of them could be dealt with later. However one mail caught his attention. He double clicked it and read the strange request of the email. How did she know that he had the artifact from great-grandpa Pierre, he wondered. I remember Papa telling me that no one knew the existence of the artifact. This is definitely a queer affair he thought, as he clicked the reply button and typed a few short words enquiring further as to her source of information.

  Immediately he got a reply. Wondering if the woman was sitting by her computer, he realized that Washington D.C. must be three hours ahead of Portland. Since it was 9am over at Portland it must be 12pm in Washington D.C. Scrolling through the email, he was stunned at what he read. The woman must be crazy, he thought, how did she expect him to believe her experience with his great-grandpa Pierre. His great-grandfather had lived in the 1800s how could he get in touch with her? He decided he needed to know more about this woman. A quick browse on the Internet yielded results. He was surprised to know that she had just been elected the youngest director of the Smithsonian Institute. Such a prestigious institution would not have a crazy person at the helm of its affairs. On several occasions he had dealt with the management of the institution and he knew that they were top notch. He was intrigued now and wondered how to move forward with her enquiry. He decided to enquire from his close associates about Sally Wentworth. What he found astounded him. Suffolk a friend of his had told him that, she was one of the most brilliant art historians the institute had ever known. “Ask her anything about the art in the institute and around the world and you can be sure she has something to say about it. One would think that she had a catalogue stored up in her brain. Can you imagine, how many art historians know about Strumbolt the man responsible for the strange music discovered in the Rosslyn Chapel in the United Kingdom?”

  “Who is he” Ambrose asked. “See,” Suffolk replied, “even you don’t know the man. I got to know about him from Sally Wentworth. This woman has access to every document in the museum and has catalogued them in her head.”

  He got up and walked to the painting behind his chair, pulling down the painting was a safe. He opened the safe and brought out a yellow box old with age. On the box was a note. He opened the note and read it.

  If you are reading this note, then I have somehow managed to span centuries to give you the instruction to open this box. Under no circumstances should this box be opened without my permission. Open the box and please follow the instructions.

  Ambrose thought that since great-grandpa Pierre had told the woman to get in touch with him, it was the permission he needed to open the box.

  He opened the box and inside was a weird collection of objects. A crystal ball with several other objects was in the box. The instruction manual fell to the floor, bending to pick it up, he noticed that a piece of metal had slipped out through the pages of the manual. The metal was shaped like a key. Following the instructions, he finally put the pieces together to form a platform where the crystal ball fit snugly. The key fit into the keyhole that had been carved into the crystal ball. When he turned it, immediately light appeared in the dark crystal ball. Looking into it, he saw his great- grandfather in his workshop, as the scene moved slowly, he saw that he slumped as a large man hit him on the head. He was then carried away into a waiting carriage to be dumped outside the town in a large sack tied at both ends with huge stones. As the men turned he realized with horror that the second man was his great-grand uncle, François de Prince while the first man was the famous inventor Parker Robinson. He sat down with a loud thud on the chair behind him. All he could think of was, she was right, his great grandfather had been murdered by Parker Robinson and His great grand Uncle François. As he stared blankly a
t the crystal ball trying to assimilate what he had seen, the scene in the ball changed and showed a mansion. With a startled exclamation, "I know that house, that’s where Sergio lives." His cousin whom he called Sergio lived there. He had never really liked him even though he owned several orchards all over France. The few times he had been forced to visit the man had been painful. The man was nothing short of a tyrant and a bully. Though he was two years older than Sergio this had not deterred him from trying to outsmart him in everything. He wondered why the ball was showing him Sergio's home in France even though he had another home in Napa, California. Soon he realized a red Mercedes car had stopped right in front of the mansion. A man got out and walked towards the door, the doors opened before he even knocked as if the occupant had been waiting for his arrival. He saw his cousin, pull the visitor indoors and close the door. The scene changed and this time Sergio and his visitor were in his study. A glass of wine was sitting on the small stool placed beside their chairs. As they sipped their wine they talked about the wine business and how it was improving. He looked at the face of the visitor, but he did not recognize him. Sergio put down his glass of wine and leaned towards the visitor. “So what have you found out,” he asked in a quiet voice. Knowing Sergio, the slyness in his voice spelt trouble and doom. Ambrose wondered what he was up to. The visitor with marching actions replied, I have found that this Sally Wentworth has been in touch with Pierre de Prince.

  "How did they know that?" Ambrose asked shocked.

  “She apparently knows how Pierre died and knows that our ancestors were responsible for his death,” the visitor continued unaware of Ambrose’s out burst.

  “But she does not know that our ancestors have already given us instructions to destroy anyone who sought to expose them.”

  "The visitor must be Parker Robinson’s descendant," Ambrose concluded.

  Parker Robinson’s descendant continued, “We also know that she has gotten in touch with Ambrose de Prince, the great grandson of Pierre. He has in his possession an artifact that was passed on to him from Pierre. We need to get this artifact and discover what else Pierre has been up to even though he has been dead for over two centuries.”

  “Good work Keith, you have covered all the areas we need to act on quite nicely.” Sergio commended him. “What we need to do is to do away with Sally Wentworth and Ambrose de Prince.

  "I can’t believe that my own cousin is planning my own death." Ambrose shook his head horrified.

  “I will get Justin," Sergio continued. "I use him when I have jobs like this. He will know whom to hire. Don’t worry, I will pay him, I know that all the money that was left to you by your great-grandfather has been squandered to pay your gambling debts."

  Keith who had been lounging in his chair sat up at the mention of his debts. “How did you find out about my debts?” He asked.

  Sergio smiled smugly with a fiendish glint in his eyes. “I have my sources, once this assignment is over you can say bye-bye to debts. I will personally see that you live in comfort all the rest of your life.”

  Keith’s eyes gleamed as a broad smile covered his face, eagerly he leaned towards Sergio, “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just keep the information coming, let me what your informants have found out and when they need to be paid.” Sergio assured him.

  “Thank you, thank you so much.” Keith gushed, “You gave me the red Mercedes Benz and now this. I am so grateful.”

  Sergio waved his hand brushing away Keith’s thank you. “Oh its nothing.” He said.

  “I wonder what’s in it for you, Sergio? Ambrose wondered, “Why are you being so generous?”

  At this point the crystal ball went blank. Ambrose sat back in his chair with a sign; things were definitely spiraling out of control. Sally Wentworth will have to be informed so that she can be prepared.