“Really, he had the gift of touchy feely and he worked in a museum? That’s either genius or incredibly stupid.”
“Psychometry. It’s called psychometry not touchy feely,” Shawn huffed. “Anyhoo, Dr. Kruger came upon a cauldron that had been discovered in the Black Forest. It was silver and iron and dated back to somewhere between 200BC and 300AD. When it was first discovered, the museum was elated since it was so similar to the Gundestrup Cauldron that had been discovered in Denmark. All in all it proved to be a very interesting piece. Despite honoring the God Cernunnos, who was represented at times as a stag it ignored anything having to do with Mother Earth. Cernunnos was the horned God and the God of the hunt but he grew in the womb of the all mother, Anu. Based on the images the archeologist felt that whoever created it viewed woman as unimportant. Which went against the beliefs of the tribe the craftsman would have belonged to.”
“An ancient misogynist. Oh, goodie. I take it there’s more.”
“Oh, so much more,” Shawn blanched. “The staff at the museum noticed that when men were around the cauldron their personalities changed often turning violent. When women were around it, nothing much happened. Kruger decided to touch it. What he saw frightened him. He saw a crazy man who considered himself the true Sharmanic God of the hunt. Women only existed to breed and feed. He was convinced that if he could offer a sacrifice of pure blood, he would possess infinite power.”
“Pure blood?” Faith choked out.
“Children. Young boys to be more precise. He would slit their throats and allow the blood to drain into the cauldron.”
“That is disgusting,” Faith trembled. “And just what entails infinite power in 200BC? You get the biggest hunk of roast pig? Please tell me the villagers strung this guy up.”
“Basically,” Shawn confirmed. “It didn’t end there. All of his twisted ideas and evil intentions became a part of the cauldron. It was as if his essence attached itself to it. Given the reaction of the museum staff members’ time had done nothing to diminish the aura. It caused so many problems that they encased it in lead and buried it in the basement.”
“Good. The museum was destroyed during the Second World War. Can you imagine having something like that lying around?”
“Before he escaped, Kruger said that Otto Rahn came around. Hitler expressed an interest in moving it to Wewelsburg.”
“The castle where Hitler stored items relating to the occult. The same place he wanted to put the Spear of Destiny and the Holy Grail? He didn’t get his hands on it did he?”
“Kruger never found out,” Shawn shivered once again. “His main goal at the time was getting out Germany. He had been trying to get out of Berlin for a long time. Not buying Hitler’s view of the world, he didn’t feel a need to hang around. He did tell Milo that he hoped it was destroyed during the bombings. He just didn’t know for certain. It is a frightening thought, something that dark out there. One of Kruger’s colleagues was so affected by it, he slit his son’s throat.”
“It must have been destroyed during the bombings,” Faith reasoned. “Spooky aspect aside, something that old would make news.”
“Your sister is about to knock on the door.”
“I will never get used to that.”
Chapter 3
“Good you’re both here,” Carey groused when Faith answered the door.
“Hi, Sis come on in.” She jested stepping aside to allow Carey and her fiancé Rishi to enter the apartment. “Glad to see you brought your boyfriend along.”
“I wouldn’t push her buttons,” he cautioned.
“I thought you were on your way to a shoot,” Carey offered politely to Shawn.
“Just got back last night. I head back on the road in few days. Now, why don’t you quit stalling, take off your coat and tell us why you are here?”
“My parents,” Rishi mumbled. “I had a little video chat with my mother about an hour ago.”
“And the problem is?” Faith prompted.
“My parents,” Carey supplied. “I should have just told them.”
“Told them what?” Faith’s over protective nature kicked in.
“That my parents were never married.”
“That’s not entirely true. Dad is married.” Faith quipped in an effort to ease the tension.
“To your Mother,” Carey sighed. “I blame myself. When I first met them I might have mislead them. I told them my mother had passed away and for the most part I get along with my stepmother. I just neglected to tell them that my father has been married to my stepmother for over four decades. Which of course is longer than I’ve been alive.”
“Look, it’s not ideal, but my mother doesn’t dislike you.”
“No, she’s great. Considering the circumstances I give her a lot of credit. To be completely truthful, Rishi’s mother never liked me. I’m too old, too white and divorced.”
“I told you not to pay attention to her,” Rishi tried to comfort her. “Despite you giving in to all of her demands, about the weddings she is still riding you. We should just elope.”
“Oh, right and give her another reason to hate me.”
“But you’ve wanted something small and simple all along,” Rishi argued. “If my mother gets her way, I’ll be riding a freaking elephant through the streets of London. I don’t care about the traditional hoopla. I never have. I love you.”
“It is what you want,” Shawn finally joined the conversation. While everyone else had been bantering back and forth she had been busy tapping away on her phone. “It’s what you both want. And don’t tell me that it isn’t.”
“I hate that your girlfriend is a psychic.” She snarled at Faith. “So, what do you suggest?”
“I suggest that the four of us use the tickets I just booked.”
“Tickets?” Rishi sputtered.
“There’s a 10:22 flight to Vegas out of JFK. We can fly in find a chapel get you kids hitched. Faith and I will have to fly back the following afternoon. That should give me enough time to pack and get ready for my trip to Chicago.”
“Vegas? Tonight? Faith what do you think?”
“I think, my girlfriend has found a way for me not to have to wear that godawful lavender dress. However it doesn’t matter what I think. What do you and Rishi think?”
“Rishi?” Carey stammered.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” he softly offered clasping her hands. “It’s up to you. Are you ready to become Mrs. Kapoor?”
“Carey Kapoor,” she chuckled. “And I started using my middle name because I didn’t want to be Jess Jessup. Carey Kapoor has a nice ring to it. We need to get going to make our flight. We’ll have to call the station, so they don’t think we went AWOL.”
“We’re getting married,” Rishi gushed.
“We’re getting married.” She confirmed.
Muraille Island
The following day
Just before sunrise, Ro had brewed her coffee, checked her equipment and set out to see the island. Her main interest was to catch the sunrise from the abandon lookout station that had been constructed during the Second World War. The layout of the island proved to be easy to navigate. There was the dock, boathouse and access road that led to the front gate. After passing through the gate, she turned to the sight of the charred remains of what had once been the main house. Heading north of the rubble woods that opened up to a clearing.
In the clearing was an over grown strip of land that looked as if at one time it might have been a landing strip or driveway. Next to that was an old barn.
Inside the barn she discovered various tools, and under a tarp a twin engine airplane. The de Havilland Dragon Rapide confirmed her suspicions that the unsightly strip of dirt had once been a landing strip. The only reason she knew the type of airplane was simply because of the small metal plate located on the stairs.
The airplane was fascinating, it still looked amazing even with the tires having deflated probably decades ago. She took a few pictures. She wou
ld have spent hours studying the aircraft if she hadn’t felt the tingling sensation on her hand. She froze before shaking the eight legged beast from her hand. After taking a few deep breaths she went about taking more pictures.
She paused in the cockpit discovering a weathered black and white photo. It was of two men in uniform and a woman. Ro studied it wondering if the woman was Ella Westbrook. The twenty something beauty certainly resembled the elderly woman who had granted her permission to traipse about the island.
It was then she felt the hairy legs crawling up her thigh. She glanced down and screamed before banging her head on the ceiling of the cockpit. She kept screaming as she tried to brush the three large spiders off of her legs. Wiggling and squirming she crawled through the cockpit and out of the plane.
Shaking her legs and other limbs she stumbled out of the barn. She didn’t stop shaking out her shirt and body parts until she was good and satisfied that there weren’t any more spiders crawling on her. She looked not only to confirm she was spider free but that she was alone and nobody had seen her dancing around, screaming like a little girl.
Shaking it off she reminded herself that she had been crawling around an abandoned barn. Stumbling across a nest of spiders wasn’t unheard of. Eager to see more she kept heading north. She was greeted with more trees until she reached the furthest end of the island. The only thing there was a spectacular view of the dark ocean and the rickety watch tower. She climbed up and went to work. Capturing the sunrise over the ocean, she felt at peace.
The observation deck on the tower was a good thirty feet off the ground. Ro was surrounded by the sounds of the waves crashing and sea gulls calling out. Once she was finished she climbed down eager to finish her exploration.
The only thing left to see on the island was the trees, bushes, rabbits, birds and other wildlife. The only structure left to explore was a small cottage on the east coast of the island. The bushes surrounding the cottage had grown out of control to the point of covering the walls. Ro followed the walkway detecting a familiar aroma.
“Sage.” She noted thoughtfully as she followed the stones that led to the single step. She stepped up and pushed the door open. Instantly she felt completely at ease. The feeling of being watched vanished. Looking around the dusty one room building she discovered tables, a couple of easels, paints and a bed. Peering out the window she was greeted to another view of the Atlantic. Unlike the watch tower there wasn’t any land blocking the view just miles and miles of ocean. It was clear why someone had chosen this point for an artist nook. After clicking a few more pictures, it was time to go back outside.
The moment she crossed the threshold the air felt oppressive and she was filled with an expected surge of rage. Something moved in the woods, startling her.
The sound of bleat follow by a loud, ‘Maaw!’ The human like scream set her on edge.
“Goats? No, no, no. I did not sign on for spiders and goats.”
A hawk circled above her reminding her why she was there. “I can do this,” she reassured herself. “Come on, Ro pull it together. On your last job you stared down a grizzly. A couple of bugs and a spindly legged whiner just begging to become a sweater isn’t going to stop you.”
‘Frau muss dienen!’ Was whispered in her ear.
“Okay, that’s unnerving. Still not as scary as a spider.”
Central Park West, NYC
Two days later
Ella stepped off the elevator and sighed. Steading herself on her cane she made her way to the glass doorway. Emblazed across the glass was the name of the company she had given her life to, The Muraille Family Arts Foundation. For most of her life she loved running the foundation. For the past couple of decades, she questioned how much longer should she stay on? Each time she tried to find a successor something went awry. Now, in her nineties she knew that time was of the essence.
“Aunty,” Gwen cheerfully greeted her. “Ready for today’s meeting?”
“Of course,” she wearily responded eager to get it over with. “How is that photographer making out?”
“Very well,” she exclaimed as they hurried towards the boardroom. “Communication has been limited since there is no Wi-Fi on the island. That Kirby fellow has been great about ferrying her back and forth. She emailed some beautiful pictures. She understands that we are entitled to three shots of our choosing. A fair exchange for allowing her private access to your island. The University and Woods Hole are chomping at the bit. I’ve spoken to the architect, she’s getting a bit anxious as well. I have to say it is very generous of you to donate the land for such a worthy endeavor.”
“I’m happy to be rid of it,” she snorted as she swung open the door. It still amused her that everyone snapped to attention whenever she made an entrance. The only exception was Daniel Muraille. Being a gentleman he stood and pulled out her chair at the head of the table. “Thank you, Danny.”
“Anything for you Ella,” he warmly responded. “Gwen.” He nodded towards the younger woman.
“Grandpa.” She offered with a smirk.
“Shall we begin?” She offered snapping open the binder that had been waiting for her. Not for the first time in her life, Ella couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t been pushed aside. Surely, at her age she should be considered more of a figure head than the leader. Still, there she sat ruling the roost. “First order of business, the impressionist collection. Where is it heading?”
“Chicago,” someone dutifully answered.
“And the insurance?”
“Covered.”
“Next, why aren’t I looking at the report for the young artist program?”
The meeting carried on in the same manner for almost three hours. Once Ella was satisfied, she ended it, requesting that Daniel stay behind. Once the others had made their exit she turned to Daniel.
“Why am I still sitting in this chair?”
“This again,” he groaned. “You are still the most qualified person. The board of directors for the family trust couldn’t be happier.”
“Daniel,” she drew out his name feeling exasperated. “I am dangerously close to reaching triple digits.”
“Don’t remind me,” he quipped. “You forget I’m older than you are.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten,” she couldn’t resist teasing him. “It is time to name a new leader. I’m not the Queen of England, for heaven’s sake. Talk to Gwen she’s been with the foundation, since she graduated from Vassar. The board shouldn’t have a problem with her. She’s qualified and she’s family. I seem to recall when I was named to this position there was a great deal of squawking over the fact that I am not a Muraille.”
“Fortunately most of those people are dead.”
“All of those people are dead,” she scoffed. “You and I are the last ones standing. I don’t know about you but it is getting harder and harder to stand these days.”
“I get weary pushing the elevator button,” he chuckled. “Tell me, does your cantankerous mood having anything to do with your decision to let go of the island?”
“Let go of the island?” She sniffed. “Sadly, I’ll still own it. You know as well as anyone I’ve been trying to let go as you so put it, since she died. It’s been nothing but a constant reminder that maybe if I had stayed, she would be alive.”
“If you had stayed, I would have been burying the both of you,” he sputtered. “For the love of God, Ella, they were an evil pair.”
“I still don’t know why she brought them there,” Ella spat out. “From the moment they arrived everything was different. It used to be such a happy place. A refuge of sorts.”
“I know. Growing up Temperance, Preston and I couldn’t wait for summer. When she bought the island from the rest of the family, I knew that it would remain our little paradise. And It was, until she died. Now it’s just the place where my cousin, my best friend was murdered.”
“Don’t forget that awful business in the seventies. If I didn’t know better, I would swear th
e island is cursed.” The sadness threatened to overwhelm her. “Daniel, you’ve been a true friend for so long, talk to Gwen. At my age, every morning I wake up and find that I am still breathing is a surprise.”
After an exhausted talk with Daniel, she made her way back upstairs to her private residence. Stavros her assistant greeted her with a worried look.
“You work too hard,” he scolded her.
“I am trying to change that,” she exclaimed while pouring herself a healthy glass of brandy. He gave her the look. “Seriously, Stavros at my age what’s it going to hurt?”
“Had another go round with your niece?”
“I do not understand why she is resisting. Granted Katherine would have been the better choice, but she left to go work at the Colbert. Which is ironic, that being the same museum Temperance stole me away from. Now, Gwen is the logical choice.”
“She is only resisting because she feels if she takes on your position, it is like you are putting your affairs in order.”
“I am. At my age it is a necessity.”
Having had her say, she excused herself to her office. Sitting at the desk, she ran her finger along the picture that had been sitting there for seventy years.
“This is your fault,” she scolded Temperance’s image. “What were you thinking naming me your successor? Leaving me this building and everything else? I spent almost two decades convincing your family that I was more than qualified to run the foundation. I loved the work, the art and everything that the position provided. But enough is enough. I’m so tired. Tired of being the one who is running the show. Tired of missing you.”
Chapter 4
New York, NY.
September 8, 2017
“Hey there. I just emailed my research to Althea.” Faith announced turning towards Shawn who looked frazzled. “What?”
Muraille Island Page 3
