by Jo O'Neil
Chapter Eleven
The Safe
A.M.’s urgent appointment was at Harry Goodwin’s office.
Harry had placed my ownership disputed amulet in his office safe appreciating it was of immense value. The safe had recognised this fact also and appeared not to want to let its prize possession go; as every time Harry turned the dial to open the safe it refused to budge.
Harry checked, double checked, and then triple checked the combination he’d cleverly disguised in his personal organiser as a mixture of telephone numbers, birth dates, and appointments. He had been painstakingly meticulous when he coded the numbers, reversing several digits to further heighten his security.
The purpose of the smoke and mirrors system, which Harry prided himself on, was to achieve the maximum protection available to a personal safe as opposed to the company’s vault at the bank where he’d considered placing my necklace, but he’d deemed it to be unnecessary. In hindsight, this decision no longer constituted a good one, and as he pulled, poked, and prodded his grey metal nemesis, which hid behind his favourite piece of contemporary art, he really could have kicked himself for not making the trip to the bank which had been Mr. Harper’s preference, and not only because he had a vested interest with his daughter being my sapphires new owner. But Harry had reasoned the short term nature of the security requirements totally justified his decision, and besides, it was far simpler his way (or so he’d thought) to retrieve and safely deliver my pendant to Hope.
Frustratingly, he recalled his meeting with the two amulet opponents, and wished he had given Hope her inheritance then and there. But while fastidious and unreceptive to a high degree of human interaction, Harry had a kind nature and thought Molly’s feelings would be better spared if she wasn’t present when Hope took custody.
Harry, a man of no religion or spirituality, wasn’t buying Molly’s story that an angel declared Hope as the rightful owner. He thought it was more likely that Molly was suffering from a neurological dysfunction triggered by my unfortunate passing, and impacted by my disloyalty.
You see Harry knew Molly was my intended keeper for my sapphire, and he couldn’t fathom (because he wasn’t privy to God’s industrious plan) why I had changed my mind to, of all people, Hope. He guessed if he was struggling to comprehend my sudden change of heart then surely dear, sweet Molly was, because the whole scenario seemed so illogically. He just hoped Molly’s condition was temporary and his decision to spare her sanity the right one; regardless that at that precise moment he couldn’t help but think it was most definitely the wrong course of action for him.
To appease his irritated self, he concluded the handing over of such a valuable item should be done with the highest degree of security, and all steps officially recorded, thus satisfying the company’s liability. Therefore, his actions were reasonable and subsequently vindicated him entirely, even given the present ill-fated situation.
Unaware dark forces beyond his imagination were the root cause of the disobedient safe which would have refused to opened even with Hope and Molly present, Harry made an emergency telephone call to an available local locksmith who gave Harry his word he would discreetly call around to his office within the hour.
Wishing to keep the escapade hush-hush, Harry had suggested the locksmith wore a suit, as otherwise, even without the display of tell-tell tools which Harry thought could be well hidden in a briefcase, jeans and a t-shirt were a dead giveaway that something was awry in an establishment such as Collins, Harper, and Jones Solicitors. However, when the locksmith said he would need to go home to change to comply with Harry’s request and would then need to add a surcharge to the fee to cover this inconvenience, Harry, who was already personally covering the cost in an attempt to hide the blunder, changed his mind that corporate attire was necessary and asked the man to come as quickly as possible.
While wiping his moist brow with a carefully ironed handkerchief, Harry then proceeded to dismiss his secretary for the afternoon, least she witness the farcical state of affairs and gossip unmercifully to: at best the other assistants; and at worse to anyone who would listen.
As A.M. and I watched Harry’s previously mollified manner rise in fitful agitation as he awaited the arrival of the one he was convinced would save his rapidly deteriorating week, A.M. shared his knowledge on the events unraveling before us.
‘The safe has been tampered with by non-human hands,’ A.M. declared noticeably calmly given Harry’s anguish. ‘It is likely that a deadlock curse has been preformed, making any human attempt to open it futile.’
‘You will be able to open it, won’t you, A.M.?’
‘Oh, yes, but not until Harry has left. Deadlock curses can be tricky, so it may take me a little time as caution is warranted, and my methods may not be easily hidden if Harry is still present.’
‘So we need a diversion to steer Harry out of his office?’
‘That will not be necessary, Serena. We will wait until Harry has vacated the premises for the evening.’
‘What if Harry doesn’t leave, A.M.?’
‘He will.’
‘What if the locksmith is dishonourable and opens the safe just before he steals my very old and valuable, Himalayan, Devil and evil spirit banishing, cornflower blue sapphire amulet?’
‘You have such a lively imagination, Serena.’
I kicked off my white satin pumps as I made myself comfortable on the cream leather sofa directly opposite the cursed safe.
‘But . . .’ I quickly searched my mind for a convincing thought, ever hopeful of winning a disagreement, ‘what about Hope?’ I said with enthusiasm as the thought literally sprang into my mind. ‘She needs my amulet’s vital protection. God said so. The longer we sit here doing nothing, the longer Hope is open to attack from the dark side,’ I finished triumphantly.
But A.M. had other ideas and announced, ‘I am watching over Hope, Serena, so do not alarm yourself.’
Undeterred I counter argued, ‘God insists His will, will be done.’
‘He does, but to God waiting an hour or two, or a day or two to achieve His desired result is negligible, because God will always find the blessings in every moment and such time is infinitesimal in the scheme of things.’
I was about to object further when there was a knock on the dark wooden varnished door to my left. Harry rushed to open it, very nearly tripping over his mohair cream rug in his haste.
A small, bespectacled man stood nonchalant in the hallway dressed in scruffy jeans and a brown leather jacket which looked out of place, not only because it appeared to date back to the 1970’s, but also because it was understated for a bitterly cold day. A large tool bag clutched in a gloveless, corn beef pigmented hand hung at the man’s side, which was designed purposefully to remain open, presumably to aid efficiency. I laughed at the conspicuous look of dread on Harry’s face. It would be nothing short of a miracle if the man’s presence had gone unnoticed, and questions were bound to be asked if he’d been seen.
Fully aware of this embarrassment, Harry literally pulled the man into his office, narrowly missing crushing the locksmiths free, equally mottled hand as he slammed his door shut. Clearly agitated, Harry proceeded to unnecessarily gesture to the wall behind his desk where the safe was obvious.
Ambling around the lacquered desk which matched the wood of the door, the man scratched his thick head of rich brown hair as he asked, ‘What seems to be the problem, Mate?
Visibly exasperated and not appreciating being called, “Mate,” Harry explained regardless how many times he entered the right combination the door refused to cooperate. The man naturally and very sensibly questioned whether Harry had indeed entered the numbers accurately.
Harry, anxious to see my amulet was still safely tucked inside his safe box answered with indignation, ‘The combination is correct.’
A.M. conveyed Harry’s concern to me.
‘Why would Harry suddenly suspect my sapphire has been stolen? It hasn�
��t, has it?’ I asked apprehensively.
‘No, your amulet is still in the safe,’ A.M. reassured me.
‘Good, but now you’ve mentioned it, why didn’t the curser just take it? Surely it would have been far more productive than these delay tactics.
‘You are forgetting, Serena, your sapphire is an evil repellant. Evil is certainly at the core of “these delay tactics” but had no choice other than to leave your amulet where it is. If it was not for the safe between, evil could not have dared to get so close in the first place.’
Several hours later, when the safecracker had failed to enter the metal box, much to his surprise and Harry’s distress, he suggested cutting through the door. Concerned for the contents if a large blade crashed through, Harry was unsurprisingly hesitant. Assured the blade would penetrate the top of the door leaving the items at the bottom of the safe undamaged and easily accessible, Harry consented, albeit reluctantly, as even though he was under strain he remained astute. However, he was still slightly apprehensive at any moment his secret would be out. Diving further into desperation with each passing minute, he pragmatically affirmed he had very few options left to him.
But, when the blade followed by a blow torch failed to even mark the metal, Harry began to show signs he was more than a little worried; his naturally pale complexion turned porcelain giving the impression all the blood had been sucked out of him, and he looked decidedly clammy.
Harry eventually dismissed the locksmith, who was out of ideas, and proceeded to sit for the longest time in his office chair where he vacantly stared at the disobliging safe. Finally, after an exhausting day where the safe door had relentlessly refused to dislodge, a weary Harry pulled on his grey cashmere winter coat and thick leather black gloves, before wrapping his chunky cashmere scarf around his neck in a defeatist fashion. He picked up his briefcase and nuzzled his face into the soft fabric of his scarf on the pretence of keeping warm; yet I suspected his reason was to hide from those who may dare to ask what the commotion was in his office and why a labourer had called. He left the light in the office he’d been captive in all day to automatically turn itself off when it failed to detect movement after thirty minutes, leaving A.M. free to do what a professional locksmith, a chainsaw, and a blow torch could not.
I was still lounging on Harry’s leather sofa which I noted seemed to be not only larger, but also more comfortable than the sofas in my office, a fact I promptly aimed to resolve when I returned. As I mentally redesigned my office space, A.M. gently approached the problematic door; a stark contrast to the assortment of macho gizmos which had been thrown at it. Placing his palms flat against the metal, he unfolded his large eagle like wings and activated his halo for the first time in my company. A golden, purple, and blue ray of light radiated from the Divine crown which glorified his being with an abundance of love and peace. As I bathed in the angelic light which filled Harry’s office, I understood why Harry needed to go home before A.M. could work his magic.
Goose bumps assaulted my honorary angelic body as A.M. spoke in his beautiful yet authoritative voice. ‘In the name of our Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, I command the deadlock curse to lift without any harmful affects to human, animal, angel, or any item tangible or otherwise, and I instruct you door to open.’
With a soft click the safe obliged, but at the exact same moment a dark shadow emerged from the far right corner, the furthest it could get from the safe, and muttered what I took to be a counter curse because the safe banged shut again.
Unperturbed, A.M. summoned the Angels of Hope who flooded the room with their cherub style form. The small winged angels stood armed with not only bow and arrows, but musical instruments which they swiftly put to good use. With the loving vibration of A.M.’s aura and the Angels of Hope composition, the dark shadow was kept at bay allowing A.M. to complete God’s work.
In the morning, a beaten Harry trudged into his office totally unaware a band of angels was in situ. As Harry closed his door, A.M. dimmed the brilliance of his aura so as not to alert the already spooked solicitor, and the angels repositioned themselves to give Harry space, as even though he couldn’t see them, he may well have felt them if he literally bumped into one. Some sat with me while others floated around the comfortable surroundings. All remained vigilant against the dark figure which skulked on the sideline.
At first glance everything appeared exactly as Harry had left it, but on closer inspection Harry saw the safe door had been opened. His heart skipped a beat as he feared my amulet had been taken, and he felt foolish that the buffoon from yesterday had hoodwinked him, as surely he was the culprit. When he found to his great delight all was present and correct, the depth of gratitude he felt knowing his nightmare was over outweighed his need for an explanation on how on earth the door had swung open, by all intents and purposes its own accord, and it did not occur to him to feel apologetic for the insults and accusations he directed towards the locksmith, albeit non-verbally.
Removing my amulet from the safe in case the strong metal box reverted to its stubbornness of yesterday and locked him out again, Harry called Hope to arrange convenient and secure delivery of her inheritance.
Hope was adamant she was happy to stop by Harry’s office to accept my necklace. When Harry protested under security regulations, Hope placated him by suggesting she sign any relevant documents to verify she was happy to receive the item under these circumstances.
With the hour Harry had spare before Hope arrived; he held my sapphire in his left hand jacket pocket, not daring to let it go; closed the safe door without locking it; moved back into place the art work by one of his favourite contemporary artists, Birim, which was curiously titled: Running Wild (never could I imagine Harry with his moderate pompous demeanour running wild); and personally typed the release forms for Hope to sign, carefully adding a clause which waived Collins, Harper, and Jones Solicitors from all liability.
A.M., the Angels of Hope, and I stayed with Harry until Hope had visited his office and taken responsibility for my amulet. Notwithstanding Harry looked much relieved to have relinquished responsibility of the troublesome jewel, he was uneasy when Hope asked him to fasten the chain around her neck. And when Hope confirmed she had every intention of wearing my sapphire around the office, I thought Harry looked like he needed a defibrillator to revive his heart that had been under a considerable amount of pressure since my will reading.
Harry urged Hope to reconsider, and advised her to seek a valuation, telling her surprisingly modestly he thought my amulet was extremely valuable. He failed, however, to tell her of the prior day’s proceedings, or his unexplained gut feeling that there were mysterious forces at work that wanted to deprive her of her inheritance. In fact, Harry was never one to listen to his intuition, and instead buried such feelings as soon as Hope had closed his office door behind her, but not before she reminded Harry that I wore my sapphire necklace daily to the office. This did nothing to persuade Harry, forever the ‘practicalarian’, that his opinion that the amulet definitely wasn’t for casual wear was the right view.
I was strangely calm when I saw Hope Harper. I didn’t even flinch when she took possession of my sapphire.
With my amulet in Hope’s care, the shadowy figure vanished, followed by the Angels of Hope, leaving A.M. to suggest we continued with my lesson on Archangels which was interrupted by the deadlock curse.
However, before A.M. could orb anywhere, I asked, ‘A.M., why is my amulet safe now it’s with Hope when we had to guard it against more curses when Harry was its temporary warden?’
‘Hope is one of God’s light workers as you are, Serena. The dark side is powerless against the amulet when it is worn by a light worker, which is exactly why God directed you to buy it in the first place. Besides, it was the safe which was cursed, not your amulet.’
‘If God wanted me to have the sapphire so badly, then why didn’t he come up with the funds?’
‘All “funds”
are God’s, Serena.’
My look said I thought otherwise, so A.M. clarified, ‘The dust that goes unnoticed as you grind it under your feet; your beloved Mercedes-Benz; and the most precious gem on earth all belong to God, for God is the maker of all.’
Realising I would need to give this statement a little more thought, I turned to A.M. and asked, ‘What was in the shadows that so badly wanted to prevent Hope taking ownership of my amulet?’
‘That was a dark elf.’
‘A dark elf! One of Lucifer’s henchmen, I take it?’
‘Yes, his allies come in all different shapes and sizes. One thing they have in common is that they are all dark.’
‘The light that came from your halo which pushed the dark elf into the shadows, why was it so different from the light you emitted in Archangel Raguel’s study?’
‘My aura lights my halo. It is a completely separate source of light from the one you witnessed in Archangel Raguel’s study which was Divine Light. Now, shall we return to Banff?’ A.M. asked before I had time to inundate him with any more questions.
‘Actually, A.M., I have my very own special place here in London and I wondered if it would be acceptable to you if we went there?’
‘Lead the way and I will follow,’ God’s chief Archangel replied.
