by S. Robertson
The Guardians then proceeded to discuss related matters among themselves.
“Don’t feel guilty Angi about being disinterested when this was first presented by your grandmother, ” said Jessie in a comforting tone. “It’s hard for any of us in this modern age to grasp something centuries old. As a young woman in New Zealand I dismissed the whole idea, after all we were not flying off to other countries as easily as we do now. I’m still struggling with the fact that we are here in Boston talking about this, a sworn family secret. Angi, if your grandmother hadn’t died, I was just about to pass our gemstone onto the next generation. I was convinced, as others, that ‘the coming times’ could be decades or even another century away.”
Wolfram now interjected, “In your minds, is there any correlation between “the coming times” and the 2012 prophecy of doom?”
“I can’t speak for the rest,” said Angi, “I would like to say, no, but we can’t rule out anything. It’s an interesting coincidence, don’t you think? What about the rest of you?”
“I agree with Angi,” replied Gracelyn. “Let’s leave everything on the table; Druids and the 2012 prophecy. When we have more facts then we can discard whatever doesn’t apply.” She ignored the disapproving glance of her husband.
“Agreed,” said Moira and Jessie almost in unison.
Before Wolfram could inject another question, Moira shifted the discussion with a point-blank one of her own, “The main question hanging unsaid and unanswered is what we can expect from this gathering. Our families have protected something for generations and we have few details to support such a heroic effort. This killer seems to know a hell of a lot more than we do. His presence on the scene makes it imperative we cease speculating and get down to business.”
“That’s right,” replied Angi. “Let’s move on. What happens next if all the gemstones prove to be genuine? Do we all travel to Britain to search for the rest of the stones? I’m not sure I have the time or money for such globe trotting.” Angi wasn’t about to divulge another, and more compelling, reason for her disinterest in travelling.
Wolfram stepped in. “Well that depends on what happens tomorrow night.” He had previously toyed with the same thought, silently mulling over the possibilities, “What do we do if we discover tomorrow night that all gemstones are of the same vintage and quality, do we drop this or continue the quest, knowing there’s a killer on our tail? Who has the resources for such a journey? How many should go?” Trying best to divert such thinking he replied, “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
But even his grandmother was not diverted, “Fine, but let’s assume the gemstones are genuine. Then we’ll have no choice but to pursue this mystery to its end. We owe that much to our ancestors and Nellie. If we pool our contact names we must have a few from one of these countries. I’m sure the secret chain still exists in some form.”
“I have a name in Ireland,” said Angi
“I have one in Scotland,” said Jessie.
“There, that’s a start. Let’s hold onto those names until tomorrow night,” replied Gracelyn triumphantly. “We’ll bring them up again when we are certain there is a next step.”
Vette sat absorbing the conversation and thinking, “My God, this fantasy might have legs after all. If tomorrow night we discover these gemstones are genuine, more travelling is inevitable. I better get my head around the possibility. Any globe trotting for me will be stymied as I’m supposed to be back on duty in a week. Yet, this is a delicious mystery and police work can be so dull. The mind boggles as to the possibilities. I have either stumbled into the most fantastic secret of a lifetime or tomorrow it’s going to fizzle and we’ll be on a flight home. I can hardly wait.”
Wolfram let the women talk as he began to tally up the facts; four countries, four gemstones, and four women. These four exist, and we have access to two more names of the four across the pond. The last two shouldn’t be hard to find. A cold chill ran up his back as the hair on the back of his neck curled. “That’s what Antonino is thinking! He may know enough to realize that grasping any link in this chain get’s him access to the prize. What the hell was I thinking when I regarded my grandmother’s gem in such a cavalier manner. Now I’m praying that some of the gemstones are fakes. If real, we’ll have to scramble to outwit Antonino. What was that Scottish professor’s name? I’ll have to phone Josh. Let’s pray Antonino can’t get to Morgan.” Wolfram’s gut churned with the thought.
Angi returned to her room mulling over the evenings discussions. “What happens now? There has to be something to this. Our ancestors took enormous risks to preserve something. If the gemstones are real, will all the Guardians continue on this quest? That’s not my plan.” She sat by the open window for a while gazing at the distant horizon. “Tomorrow will hold the key if there is a next phase.”
Setting her clock for 5am to allow time for meditation and the gym, she fluffed her pillow in preparation for sleep. At that moment she recalled something which she had earlier denied. “Odd, I could have sworn something joined us this evening. I felt a presence enter on a sea breeze. Was this due to the first gathering of the Guardians after centuries? Maybe it’s just my imagination. …………. I don’t suppose your listening, Gran? I could use your Celtic knowhow right now.” Smiling, she drifted off as the weariness of the day finally caught up with her.
* * *
Boston: Morgan’s House
“Remember, Morgan, anything out of the ordinary, no matter how trivial,” was Gritty’s parting shot as Morgan eased out of the car.
“I know,” replied Morgan, irritated at being reminded. “I heard you the first time. Antonino’s in town and is capable of anything. He’s got bodies to prove it. The suspense is numbing. I can hardly concentrate. I’ll be glad when this hell is over.”
“You won’t need to concentrate if he’s successful,” snapped Gritty, his sympathy fading. Mumbling as he backed the car out of the driveway, “This guy has two body guards on twenty-four hour watch and you’d think we were the criminals. I like the little ivory league bastard, but at times he needs a good swift kick in the ass. One minute he’s scared out of his mind, the next he’s declaring his rights. Thank God he never enlisted in the military, he’d have been crucified. Ah well, it’ll soon be over. Antonino has to make a move. Let’s hope we get the upper hand.” Turning, he waved to Fred who was in position for the next shift.
Morgan, who normally arrived to an empty house to prepare a frozen microwave dinner, was greeted with the tantalizing odor of meat cooking and soft music. “I’m hallucinating. I’m definitely under too much stress.” Hoping it wasn’t a dream he ventured down the hall, noting the dining room table was set for two with special mats and wine glasses. He pushed the kitchen door with his fingers to find Kari-Ann removing a roast of beef from the oven. Not having had a cooked meal from her in months, his first unkind thought was, “I wonder if she’s sober.”
“I thought it was you,” was the cheery response as Kari-Ann looked up to greet her husband. “Freshen up. I thought it time for an old fashioned home-cooked meal. I haven’t done this in ages. I’m just about to pop the veggies into the microwave. The bread is from the bakery. Can you get the wine, something red and mellow?”
“Is this a special occasion or something?” asked Morgan, bewildered by the change in her behavior. He hesitated.
“No, just thought we deserved a decent meal. Did you hear me? The wine”…….replied Kari-Ann peeved at the slowness of his response.
“Yeh, I’ll get it. Are you almost ready?”
Looking at the roast, Kari-Ann replied, “Not quite, maybe twenty minutes, you like it medium to well done. We’ve got time for a wee cocktail, surprise me. I’ll join you in the living room in a sec.” She returned the pan to the oven.
Morgan, woodenly moved towards his study, dropped off his briefcase and proceeded to the liquor cabinet in the dining room. He poured two Dubonnet Cocktails; a mix of Dubonnet Rouge, Dry Gin and a
dash of orange bitters. He checked his wine supply through the glass door of his state-of-the-art Sobra wine cellar. This silent unit of superconductor technology kept twelve wine bottles in a perfect state of readiness. He selected an expensive one, picked up an opener, and delivered them to the dinner table. Returning, he transported the cocktail drinks and coasters to separate tables in the living room. At that moment Gritty’s parting command registered. “Gritty must be clairvoyant. Maybe he has a touch of blarney tucked in his genes. Sad to say, this is definitely odd. I wonder what’s up.” Feeling in control, he settled into a comfortable chair in his fashionably decorated home.
When Kari-Ann joined him he noticed she was dressed in a costly pair of mauve slacks and a shear blouse which complimented her svelte figure. “She’s still beautiful and certainly doesn’t show her age. Sadly, a marriage which had a romantic beginning crumbled under the onslaught of too many marital arguments, the cruel words leaving deep scars. Marriage counseling was an anathema to Kari-Ann. She’s likely in trouble; financial, drugs or men. Maybe she’s about to tell me she’s leaving for another guy. God knows. It’s serious enough that she had to fortify herself with a couple of drinks. I can never tell when she’s on drugs.” Morgan’s thoughts were jarred by Kari-Ann’s exuberant opening.
“I bet you can’t imagine what happened to me last night?” she announced provocatively.
Irritated with guessing games, Morgan replied “Well, I certainly hope it surpassed my day.”
Ignoring his negative response, Kari-Ann bounced back, “Last night a guy appeared and offered the four of us a walk-on role in his upcoming movie. What do you think of that?”
“Well,” thought Morgan, “that shoots my theory. But it still doesn’t explain the elaborate come on. There’s more.” Going along he replied, “That’s sounds like fun. Will you get paid?”
“Yes, not much but we have a contract,” as Kari-Ann waved a couple of sheets in front of him, like a small child displaying her latest award.
“A contract?” said Morgan; amazed one would even be needed. “Nevertheless,” he thought, “this is better than booze, drugs or another man.”
“Yah, and, in addition he offered me a small speaking role. What do you think of that?” said Kari-Ann strutting around the room before dropping into a signature series chair next to her cocktail.
“Well, congratulations. Will you get paid for that as well?”
“There you go again, always harping on money. Anyway, to answer your question, yes, it’s another contract and I’ll get paid.”
“I suppose a lawyer is not needed for such small contracts.”
“No. But we will have something like this, in writing, spelling out our role and payment.” Checking her watch, “Woops, it’s time to eat. We can talk over supper.” Gulping down the remainder of her drink she headed to the kitchen.
Moving towards the dining room, Morgan kept mulling over the news. “Be happy for her, a movie career, who would have guessed. Don’t burst her balloon. But is there any chance this could be a scam. After all, she’s had no prior acting experience and she’s much older than the usual discoveries. But what do I know. So, Morgan, me boy, go along for the ride and see what else the evening has to offer.”
Kari-Ann delivered two well-portioned plates of food to the table while Morgan poured the wine. Before diving into the food, Morgan raised his glass. “Kari-Ann, congratulations, I can see this means a lot to you. All the best! ” and he meant it. Momentarily, he contemplated, “Strange, she never mentioned the name of the movie or the leading actors. I suppose that’s comes later.”
The alcohol was beginning to take hold as Kari-Ann soaked in the salutations as she contemplated future glory.
Hungry, Morgan sipped the red wine and savored the tantalizing food. As Kari-Ann talked on, hardly touching her food, he murmured pleasantries while opposing thoughts raced through his head. “She’s on another fantasy trip. Life’s easier when she’s on a high than when she’s morose. She spends an equal amount of money whatever phase she’s in. Anything’s possible. She might be a late bloomer. God knows she needs purpose in life. She’s easily bored, and has likely tired of the bar scene. I once thought we might get this marriage back on track but that’s a fairy tale. We’ve got nothing in common ……maybe we never did. Male hormones likely clouded the early years. A sure sign of her self interest, she’s never once asked why Gritty and Fred have become my shadows. I’d likely do her a favor by dying. On her own, she’d squander the money in months. Then what? I never thought I was a great catch, but being a non-entity is a brutal blow.”
His daydreaming was pierced by, “You’re not listening! I suppose your thinking about that stupid Celtic stuff. Listen to me, this is important,” Kari-Ann demanded.
“I wasn’t thinking of work, but you’re right, I wasn’t listening either. Go on.”
“Well, this Tony Moretti was asking if you might be interested in being an historical consultant for the movie.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Kari-Ann, I’m too busy and I have no interest in movies.”
Unhindered by his negative reply, Kari-Ann pressed on, “O come on. All you have to do is meet him for a chat, no commitment. Do it for me. You don’t have to be a consultant just come to Rosie’s and meet him.”
It finally dawned on Morgan, “God, I’m stupid. So this is what this is all about. I might have known there was some angle. Kari-Ann’s likely promised this Tony guy that she’d deliver, gaining her some brownie point. She’s trapped me again.”
“For God sake, Kari-Ann, have you noticed I’ve got two body guards these days? I’m surprised you haven’t asked why they are here.”
Growing angry she struck back, “I don’t care. Don’t confuse me. I don’t want to know,” placing her hands over her ears. “That black guy sitting in his car at night gives me the creeps. He’s always spying on me.”
Exasperated, Morgan responded, “Kari-Ann, these guys are trying to keep me from getting killed.”
“Don’t be silly. Who’d want to kill a dull, unimportant university history professor? Morgan, you’ll do anything to upset my plans. I don’t care what these guys are doing, are you or are you not going to talk to Tony?”
His blood pressure rising, Morgan exploded, “The answer is, no!” the ‘no’ dragged out in a resounding high note which ignited a fire storm.
Furious at any rejection, Kari-Ann became enraged, “You’re hateful …… hateful ……hateful,” as she pounded her fist on the table. “You’re a selfish bastard, Morgan! You only think of yourself. For once, why not think of me. I’ve got a chance for a better life, and you won’t even get off your ass to help me.”
Exacerbated, Morgan dove in, “Wait a minute. Who the hell do you think has paid the bills for your crazy schemes over the years? You’ve spent a fortune on clothes, decorators, travel, drugs and God knows what else. We’re on the verge of bankruptcy. If it wasn’t for my salary we’d be selling this house to balance the books.”
“There you go again, always groaning over money. I don’t believe the house sale for a minute. You could always go to your parents, they have lots of money. I suppose you’ve poisoned them against me. When we didn’t have children, your over-achieving parents thought I should get more education and a better job. Well, they, unlike you, might see my movie offer as a step up.”
“Kari-Ann I’d be delighted if you could stick to anything. If this movie idea has any substance, then fine. But you and I know that this will likely be as shallow as the rest of your cock-eyed ideas. You certainly know how to spend money. God forbid if you were ever asked to earn a living……….you would starve to death.”
“The same old boring Morgan,” was the sarcastic reply. “I have no intention of starving.” Then wanting to hurt him she continued, “You’re not indispensible. I can get another man whenever I want.”
“I expect you’ve already tested that theory.” Morgan replied in anger. “Why don’t you get one of them to
support your latest fad? Maybe you could even find one to be the history consultant.”
“OK I will. Just you wait and see. Once I’m a star I’ll divorce you and find a better man……… a real man, not a wimp.”
“Kari-Ann, these are the same old threats; do what I want or I’ll leave. You have no intention of leaving the golden nest. You’re great at threats but short on action. This is the same old childish antics I’ve listened to for years. A single ‘no’ sends you into a tantrum. I’ve got enough on my plate right now so back off. Surely you won’t discard your financial security blanket over my refusal to meet this two-bit movie mogul. Get a grip. You don’t need me; you have what you want so go on and enjoy this tinsel ride. You’ll be with people of your own ilk.”
Shifting gears, Kari-Ann softened her attack. Trying to appeal to a by-gone era she found hard to recall, “OK, so I have no intention of leaving you. What would it hurt for you to pop in to Rosie’s tomorrow night, say hello, and tell Tony you’re not interested. Come on Morgie …..Please……Please…… Just this once for little old me. What harm would it do to come with me and have a drink? We haven’t been out in ages.”
The lingering threat of Antonino, the liquor, food and useless verbiage was catching up to Morgan. Longing for peace, he began to waver, “Why not. If I don’t relent she’ll never shut up. The cold, sickening reality of my life stands before me. This hell is never going to change, just an endless rotation of similar scenes. My male ego held on to this marriage for years ……..held on to what? I detest coming home to this sterile magazine masterpiece of a house and to a woman I can barely tolerate or converse with. I should have moved on years ago.” In a tired voice Morgan replied, “Fine, I’ll go. One hour, tops. A drink, a quick chat and out.” Comforting himself, he said as he climbed the stairs to bed, “When this Antonino mess is resolved I’m heading to my lawyer. I’ve had enough. But first I’ll need a plan to escape my nursemaids tomorrow night.”
