“Boy, this guy really knows how to trick people.” Harry shook his head. “Why did she believe him?”
“It was hard not to. Brother XII took a train to Toronto and met her in person. But on the train he met Mrs. Myrtle Baumgartner. He convinced her that she was the reincarnated Egyptian god of fertility, Isis.”
“A sucker’s born every minute,” quipped Uncle Harry.
Jace nodded. “By the end of the three-day train trip, he had also convinced her that they were destined to be together. He was the reincarnation of Osiris, husband of Isis.”
“She was already married, though.” Kat frowned.
“Apparently he made such an impression on Myrtle that she waited for his return. She was so enthralled with him that when he did, she eventually left her husband and family to join the Aquarian Foundation.”
Uncle Harry shook his head. “How could anyone believe something so far-fetched?”
“Brother XII was very convincing because many people fell for his claims. While in Toronto he got almost $26,000 and a pledge of devotion from Mary Connally. That was a lot of money back then. And don’t forget—he was still married. This was the final straw, though. His wife Alma had enough and finally left her husband. Less than a week later, Brother XII brought Myrtle to live with him.”
“Creepy guy,” Harry said. “He was so good at getting other people’s money that I wonder if there’s any left on the island.”
Jace leaned against the railing. “I doubt it. But you never know.”
“I’m surprised people didn’t wise up,” Uncle Harry said. “Wasn’t it obvious they were being cheated?”
“People usually don’t realize it until it’s too late,” Kat said. “Brother XII simply told them what they wanted to hear. They wanted to think that they were not only special but also part of something big. That somehow, they mattered more than other people did. It boosted their egos and blinded them to whatever else was going on. It worked like a charm.”
“It definitely does,” Jace agreed. “Brother XII kept all their money for himself, and put everybody to work like slaves. He separated the men and the women, husbands and wives, and worked them sixteen to eighteen hours a day with very little rest.”
“You have to be crazy to do that.” Uncle Harry shook his head. “I’d never fall for anything like that.”
“You’d be surprised, Uncle Harry,” Kat said. “You’re on an island, separated from the rest of society and isolated from the world. You’ve got no money, no possessions and no way of getting off the island. You’re basically at the mercy of the person feeding you. Ironically, that person is buying the food with your money. But it’s not your money anymore. You’ve lost control of everything you owned.”
“That’s exactly what happened,” Jace said. “Brother XII claimed there weren’t enough spaces for everybody in the commune. Everyone competed in a trial to see who would make the cut. Only the chosen few would get refuge in the city they were building.”
“And the rest?” Kat asked.
“Anyone remaining outside the city would die, or at least that’s what they thought. It was their only chance for survival, so they were willing to do anything to be the chosen ones. Maybe it was crazy, but after a few months or years, everything seemed normal to them. Since no one came or went off the islands, they had no outside influence. No one challenged them on their beliefs.”
“You said they competed,” Uncle Harry said. “Who won?”
“Nobody.” Jace sighed. “Everybody lost something. Some more than others.”
Gulls shrieked and pierced the silence overhead. Kat, Jace, and Harry stood silent as they gazed at De Courcy Island. So much tragedy and heartbreak, yet today not a trace remained.
“I’d be in denial too after making such a big mistake,” Harry said. “As long as you pretended everything was fine, you never faced the truth that you were an idiot. Those people gave up all their hard-earned money and ruined their own lives. Brother XII helped them, but it was their stupid decision in the first place.”
“Yeah,” Jace agreed. “Hindsight is 20/20. Even then, not everyone wants to see the truth.”
Kat glanced towards the door. “What are Gia and Raphael doing, anyway? What kind of business meeting are they having?”
Jace shot her a warning look.
She checked her watch. It was almost three p.m. local time. “In Italy it’s almost midnight. Who could they possibly be talking to so late on a Friday night?”
“Billionaires don’t keep normal office hours,” Jace said. “But I wish they’d hurry up, too. I can’t wait to set foot on the island. You know, some people call this a treasure island. Rumor has it that Brother XII hid a half-ton of gold coins here.”
The gold again. Just like Pete mentioned.
“Pete said Brother XII kept the gold coins in Mason jars.” Harry recounted Pete’s comments. “Where did he get all that money?”
“The donations to the Aquarian Foundation were all made in cash,” Jace said. “Brother XII converted all that into gold. Since he had such an uncanny ability to handpick wealthy members, all their worldly assets amounted to a tidy sum. At least one of his followers was a millionaire, so the money added up quickly.”
“Why not just put it in the bank?” Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully. “That would be much easier, wouldn’t it?”
“Easy maybe, but bank transactions leave a paper trail. Gold doesn’t. Unlike money in the bank, it was untraceable with no transaction records. It was pretty ingenious of him. He could spend the money without anyone knowing. There was also no evidence of payment from the donors, so they couldn’t prove they had given it to him in the first place if problems arose. Of course, that was his plan all along, to take the money for himself.”
“That’s crazy,” Kat said. “They should have known better. They were wealthy people. What did their financial advisors say?”
“There was no stopping them, no matter what their advisors told them. They were entranced with Brother XII’s claims that he could foretell the future. In hindsight, of course, they regretted it when the white magic turned into black magic.
“They handed over all their money because they believed everything he told them. He encouraged them to come and settle on the island. They built houses and invested everything they had to buy the land underneath. Yet they never got a property deed. Brother XII got the deeds instead. He claimed it was all a communal project, so there would be no individual ownership.”
“Why didn’t his followers just wise up?” Uncle Harry asked. “It must have been obvious after a while.”
“Not really. No one even knew where the gold was kept. So as far as they knew, it remained the property of the Aquarian Foundation and was still hidden and untouched.”
“But if he took their money and gave nothing in return, sooner or later they should’ve figured it all out,” Uncle Harry said.
“That’s where it gets interesting,” Jace said. “He convinced them that their souls would be destroyed. They wouldn’t be reincarnated. In addition they risked being left out of the refuge, since there were more people than spaces available. Only the chosen few would be given sanctuary during Armageddon, and if they protested, plenty of others were happy to take their places.”
Raphael and Gia finally appeared. Gia smiled apologetically. “We’re ready to go ashore now. Sorry about the wait.”
Gia gave no further explanation.
“Tell me more about this half-ton of gold,” Harry said. “Is there a treasure map?”
Jace laughed. “Not that I know of. But rumor has it that Brother XII buried the gold right here on the island.”
The treasure talk piqued Raphael’s interest. “Why would he do that?”
“To escape scrutiny and keep it close at hand. That’s the focus of my story.” Jace pointed to the island. “The Aquarian Foundation bought De Courcy Island and a couple of others in the spring of 1929, after the cult had been going for a few years. Whenev
er people started to ask questions, he moved the group to more isolated locations.”
Kat forgot her distaste of Raphael as she got caught up in the moment. “The roaring twenties were about to end. It was just months before the stock market crash of 1929 and the start of the Great Depression.”
“That’s right,” Jace said. “Though the stock market was booming, lots of people expected a crash sooner or later. All the signs were there—the jittery financial markets in Europe and here in North America, and a disparity of wealth between the rich and poor.”
“Why would anyone choose to live here?” Gia asked. “It’s pretty and all, but it’s small and in the middle of nowhere. You need a boat or you’re stranded.”
“That’s precisely why Brother XII liked it. It shielded him from prying eyes. People had started to speculate about his motives. He went after the wealthy, and his rich followers grew when he predicted the stock market crash. To them, it proved that he could foretell the future, including Armageddon. People saw the islands as a refuge from the financial strife and turbulent financial markets.”
“I guess all those rich investors thought they’d get more money in a future life.” Harry laughed. “Like that would ever happen.”
“And the nearest bank was miles away by boat.” Raphael stroked his chin. “So he buried the money to keep it secure.”
“How did he get such power over people? You have to be pretty stupid to just hand over your money, right?” Gia looked at Raphael for confirmation, but he remained expressionless.
“Charisma,” Jace said. “He also had them convinced he was a mystic with a direct connection to the gods. They were afraid of doing anything that endangered their souls’ chance of survival when the end of the world came.”
“Any normal person would see through that.” Gia frowned. “All it takes is a bit of common sense.”
Jace smiled. “You’d think so, but Brother XII had a few tricks up his sleeve. He retreated to what he called his House of Mystery where he held séances and he claimed he communicated directly with the other eleven brothers. He didn’t allow anyone inside the House of Mystery, but he made his followers stand outside, sometimes for hours. He claimed their meditation helped him with astral projection and connecting with the other deities.
“His séances often lasted hours and people inevitably grew restless. Some gossiped, some complained. Yet somehow Brother XII always knew what was said outside and who said it. The doubters were always punished. In their eyes, he truly was a psychic. They lived in both fear and awe of him.
“What his followers didn’t know was that Brother XII had secretly hired an electrician who installed microphones behind the rocks at the designated waiting area outside his house. It was cutting-edge technology at the time, not something many people were familiar with or would expect. All he had to do was listen.”
Kat sighed. If only someone would listen to her.
8
Kat stepped out of the dinghy and into knee-deep water, glad to finally be at the island. She glanced back at The Financier as she walked towards the rocky beach. Even from a distance the yacht looked massive.
Raphael dragged the dinghy far enough onto the beach that it wouldn’t get caught and pulled out by the tide. The men had already forgotten her presence. Jace talked about Brother XII and Raphael hung on his every word.
She paused for a moment and then fell in behind Jace and Raphael. She trailed several feet behind the men as they crossed the beach. It was enough to distance herself from Raphael, yet still hear their conversation. Her strategy ensured she kept her cool.
Gia and Harry had remained behind on The Financier. Gia was tired and Harry’s back was acting up again. Kat had also debated staying behind, but she hadn’t come all this way to miss whatever remained of Brother XII’s world. Besides, she believed in the old Chinese proverb of keeping her friends close and her enemies closer.
It was now almost 4 p.m. Raphael still hadn’t explained the reason for the conference call with his Italian investors, only that it somehow involved Gia. Yet Gia remained evasive when Kat pressed for details.
Gia was furious that Kat had even questioned the authenticity of Raphael and his company. Kat figured she probably had it coming, but she couldn’t just sit back and watch her friend get both jilted and swindled.
With Gia barely speaking to her, it was difficult to get any details about Gia’s agreement with Raphael. In trying to protect her friend, she had instead alienated her. In fact, everything she said just angered Gia more. Not that she blamed her. But there were things that had to be said, if only to stop Gia’s disaster from unfolding.
She paused momentarily on the rocky beach and imagined how a new commune member must have felt when they arrived on shore. They had given up all their possessions and arrived on a desolate island far removed from the outside world.
Kat looked forward to seeing the remnants of Brother XII’s abandoned settlement. Cults had always fascinated her. Reasonable people were somehow brainwashed into surrendering their possessions and more importantly, their free will. The Aquarian Foundation was a perfect example. There was good reason it was mostly forgotten today. People probably wanted to forget and put such unfortunate events behind them.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go,” Raphael said.
They headed uphill on a trail that led inland. The path paralleled the rocky cliffs, partially shaded by wiry arbutus trees that clung to the rocks. Gradually the arbutus trees transitioned to taller pine trees as they traveled further inland from the shore. The path leveled out and dappled sun turned to cool shade, a refreshing change.
“Tell me about your business. How did it start?” Jace asked.
Raphael nodded. “Mama had a salon back home in Milan. As a small boy I used to play there and even though I was young, I noticed how she transformed plain-looking women into glamor queens. She wasn’t so good at the financial side of the business. Her talents were inventing new styles and hair products. Soon she attracted the attention of Italian movie stars and models. As a matter of fact, Gia reminds me a lot of Mama.”
“Really? How?” Jace asked.
“She knows her customers and also what sells. She’s not afraid to take calculated risks.”
That was news to Kat. The Gia she knew was ultra-cautious, postponing her salon renovations until her profits increased. What had changed with Raphael?
She remained silent in order to glean as much information from Raphael as she could. She followed the men to a small rock outcropping that also marked a fork in the trail. They headed right.
“Does your mother still operate her salon?” Jace asked.
“Hell, no.” Raphael laughed. The dirt path made a slight incline as it led further into the forest. “She doesn’t need to lift a finger for the rest of her life. We are now very wealthy thanks to Bellissima. Now Mama is the one getting beauty treatments.”
Jace chuckled. “And you helped her get there.”
“I took care of the business side, with marketing and venture capital to finance the manufacturing and product development. But the idea, the word of mouth and celebrity endorsement was all Mama’s work. That’s something money can’t buy.”
“You’re just being modest,” Jace said.
Jace had taken no time at all in joining the Raphael fan club. Where was his journalistic skepticism and neutrality?
“What’s the name of your company, Raphael?” The words slipped before Kat could stop herself. With all the talk of his success, he was awfully short on details.
No answer.
He had almost certainly heard her, so she didn’t repeat the question. Jace didn’t seem to notice Raphael’s selective hearing, or if he did, he didn’t comment.
Moments later they arrived at the settlement. Raphael regained his voice as talk turned to Brother XII and the Aquarian Foundation. Not much was left of the site, other than faint impressions of where buildings had once stood.
Jace pointed to t
he remnants of a cement foundation the size of several houses. “That must be where the schoolhouse was,” he said. “They built it because they expected students, but none came. Most of the disciples were middle-aged or older, so there weren’t any children.”
“Maybe that was a good thing,” Kat said. “Imagine being born into a cult. You wouldn’t know any different.”
Jace nodded. “Brainwashed from birth. Hard to undo that.”
“This is all there is?” Raphael kicked at the dirt with his foot. “I thought there would be restored buildings and stuff.”
“Where’s the House of Mystery?” Kat scanned the ground for another building outline that would be grander than most. “Oh, I think I see it.” The faint remains of a building foundation stood on a small knoll that overlooked the settlement. Where he could keep an eye on his subjects, she thought.
“How long did this cult exist?” Raphael asked. “They seem to have moved around a lot.”
“Just a few years,” Jace said. “Even his most die-hard followers became disillusioned when his promises of a new age didn’t materialize. They eventually saw through some of his claims.”
“It’s not exactly easy to get here.” Raphael scanned the landscape. “And it’s on a rocky island. You couldn’t be self-sufficient here. What’s so great about this place?”
“Brother XII liked the fact it was away from prying eyes. He didn’t want to attract attention because that invited questions. And the questions weren’t just from outsiders. The Aquarian Foundation members wanted to know why he could live with Myrtle while still married to Alma. That sort of behavior was scandalous at the time. Or why the property titles were registered to him personally instead of in the Foundation’s name.
“But even more questionable was why the followers worked so hard in what amounted to forced labor for no pay. Many were senior citizens who practically worked themselves to death. They were little more than his slaves.”
Blowout Page 6
