Chapter 5

  We arrived back at the Goose, as Rachel called the house, and Rachel went to her rooms to write up the Overgarden report. I took advantage of the time to load the photos of the artifact onto my computer. Spending a little time with Photoshop, I combined the relevant photos into a single image that showed all the markings on the artifact as if the surface and been skinned off and laid flat. Now I could see all the symbols and their relationship to each other.

  There were a few things that were obvious: One, the etched or carved symbols weren’t Egyptian hieroglyphics or Sumerian cuneiform. Hieroglyphics are basically stylized pictures, and cuneiform consists only of straight lines made with a wedge-shaped stylus. In fact, I doubted that these symbols were a natural language. Some of them had a similar look to the symbols on the Coriolis. Most of the symbols looked somewhat like runes, but were more complex.

  One of the symbols, however, was a long, complex symbol that ran down most of the length of the rod-shaped artifact. This symbol ended with an arrowhead near the pointed end of the artifact.

  I looked through my small reference library of magical symbols, rituals and spells without finding any of the runic symbols. Google also failed to reveal any information. I did, however, find in one of my books a symbol similar to the long complex symbol on the artifact.

  I printed the Photoshopped image I had created of the artifact’s symbols along with the best photo of the artifact itself, and brewed a pot of Oolong tea. Before long, Rachel knocked at my door, and I invited her in.

  “Oolong tea?” I asked.

  “Oooh, Oolong. Yummy. Thanks.”

  We sat at my kitchen table, and Rachel handed me a manila folder that she had brought in with her.

  “Take a look at this report and see what you think,” she said.

  The report was brief and to the point. Although the report omitted all references to the theft of the artifact, it summarized our relevant conversations with Caite and Beth and set forth Rachel’s conclusions. In two pages, everything relevant was documented. A third page itemized, into broad categories, Rachel’s fees and expenses. There was a line item for “Outside Consulting Costs” which I guessed quantified my value to the endeavor. The bottom line charge was a little more than I would have guessed, but not exorbitant. After all, a girl’s gotta make a living.

  “I called Phyllis and told her we’d be over about forty-five minutes from now with all our discoveries,” Rachel said. “She wanted to know what we had discovered, but I told her we’d tell her everything when we got there. A little suspense before giving the client the good news makes the bill easier to swallow.”

  “Brilliant!” I exclaimed. “You are a natural marketing genius. See, that’s what I mean about your people skills. I fancy myself as something of a marketer, but I wouldn’t have come up with that strategy.”

  “You have to make the bad news easier to bear and the good news a greater relief in this business,” Rachel explained. “I get a good part of my business from referrals. If the client knew how routine most of my work is, she wouldn’t appreciate its value. If I can make my work seem more difficult or specialized, without having to charge the client any more money, that helps my reputation and gives the client a better appreciation of the work she’s paying for. There’s an itemization for consulting fees there. That’s your money if you’ll accept it.”

  “I’m flattered,” I said. “I think that you charged fairly for my services, but please keep the money. We didn’t enter into any agreement before we started, and I never had any expectation of remuneration. It was a pleasure to participate, and my work is pro bono.”

  “If you say so, Professor. But if we do this again, I’ll have to insist on you getting some compensation.”

  “Very well, I accept. But if money would prevent me from helping you, forget about the compensation.”

  We didn’t have time for me to show Rachel my printouts of the artifact before we had to leave to deliver Rachel’s report to Phyllis. When we got there, Rachel narrated our activities of the day to her client. Although she didn’t exaggerate, hearing Rachel tell the story was much more exciting than it had seemed at the time, especially since there was no mention of the artifact theft.

  When Rachel delivered her conclusion that Nick had not been having an affair with Caite, but was instead attempting to rekindle her love for him, Phyllis was a little skeptical. But when Rachel suggested that we go upstairs to their bedroom and look under the bed, we found a silk bag with samples of hair that looked like Nick’s and Phyllis’s along with some herbs and a small piece of rose quartz.

  Finding that love charm under the bed was like the finale to a stage illusionist’s performance. Abracadabra! Phyllis burst into tears of relief and thanked us effusively for our good work.

  After Rachel reminded her client about the bill, Phyllis wrote Rachel a check and thanked us again for being so professional and solving this crisis for her. We left richer emotionally as well as monetarily.

  “That was a thoroughly enjoyable experience,” I said to Rachel as we drove away from the client’s West Hills house.”

  “I wish they could all turn out this way,” Rachel said. “More often than not, I’m the bearer of bad news. Even if the news is what the client expected, my proof dashes their hopes of things turning out better. Believe me, Professor, this is not a typical day in the life of a private investigator. Still, being a P.I. beats being a lawyer.”

  I didn’t comment on the lawyer evaluation, but I did tell her that I wanted to show her the pictures of the stolen artifact if she could spare a few minutes when we got back to the Goose.

  After we returned to my rooms, I wasted no time and laid out the two images on the kitchen table.

  “This picture is a Photoshopped composite of all the symbols on the artifact,” I said.

  “This long one looks like an arrow with weird shapes sprouting out of the shaft,” Rachel said.

  “Yes, I believe that symbol can be called a sigil,” I said. “It bears a striking resemblance to this sigil I found in one of my books.” I showed her the page I had bookmarked in a book of magical symbols.

  “This is the ‘Sigil of Aerten’ and it’s very ancient. Notice that the symbols closest to the arrowhead are identical on the artifact, but the symbols toward the back end of the ‘arrow’ are slightly different. Also there are different symbols behind the ‘arrow’ of the sigil.”

  “If it’s not exactly the same, does that mean that it’s a fake?” asked Rachel.

  “No, not at all. Just like a computer routine, a magical spell can be based on a standard spell and yet be modified slightly to perform a different function. I think that’s what’s going on here.”

  “What about these other symbols that are scattered about on the artifact?”

  “I don’t think that they are scattered,” I said. “I think that their placement may be important and that they further modify or enhance the basic purpose of the major sigil.”

  “So what do all these symbols mean? What is this artifact used for?” Rachel asked.

  “I have no idea,” I admitted.

  You know the first rule of private investigation, ‘If you want to know something, find the right person to ask,’” Rachel said.

  “That’s about the third rule I’ve heard you say is the ‘First rule of private investigation,’” I said.

  “Well, it’s an important rule. They’re all important,” Rachel explained. “We just have to find the right person to ask.”

  “We could try to ask Gabriel,” I said.

  “I think we can file that idea in the ‘Last Resorts’ folder,” Rachel replied.

  Gabriel is the wizard who taught Ward Thompson how to make the Coriolis and told him about real magic. Asking Gabriel for help was somewhat problematical because, One, we didn’t have a way to contact him, and Two, we weren’t sure that we could trust him.

  In truth, we didn?
??t even know who or what Gabriel was. Was Gabriel his real name or a “stage name,” if wizards have stage names. It is conceivable that Gabriel wasn’t even human. I know that this is a stretch. I have no proof that non-humans even exist, but things he told Ward led me to believe that he could be very old.

  Rachel continued, “Before even considering bringing ‘The Amazing Gabriel’ into the picture, let’s use our own brains and see what we can do. For instance, why would someone have to steal this artifact? Why not just take pictures of it, like the ones you have, and make their own magical thingy?”

  “According to magical lore,” I said, “The making of a magical amulet, talisman or other device, has to be done in a very structured way. Many of the steps have to be done under particular astrological conditions.”

  “Oh come on, Professor. This is supposed to be scientific magic. How can that astrology mumbo jumbo have anything to do with it?”

  “Think about it,” I replied. “If you were going to program these exploits or loopholes into the system, you would make them hard to execute. You can’t have people stumbling across these great secrets willy-nilly. You can’t have magical devices easily counterfeited by just looking at one and making a copy. I could take the photos of that artifact and convert them into instructions for a 3D printer, and we could make an exact copy out of plastic, but I’m sure it wouldn’t have any magical powers.

  “Take the Coriolis, for example. I can draw a certain symbol on it at any time to activate its ability to detect magic, but we don’t know what steps went into machining the wooden pendulum and carving the first two symbols on it. That’s why the actual artifact had to be stolen; no copy would suffice.”

  “How the heck can the position of the planets have any effect on the making of magic?” Rachel asked.

  “Neutrinos,” I said.

  “Neutrinos? You’ve lost me, Professor. What are neutrinos?”

  “Neutrinos are extremely small sub-atomic particles that have no electrical charge, but they do have an infinitesimal mass. They’re created in stars by the gazillions, and we are constantly being bombarded with them. Think of standing under a waterfall and think of each water droplet as a neutrino. Unlike a waterfall, however, neutrinos come from all directions, and they pass right through matter. Because they are so small, without charge and with almost no mass, they could pass through a block of lead as big as the moon without even slowing down. They just continue on their way in a straight line at nearly the speed of light.”

  “If these neutrinos aren’t even absorbed or deflected or anything, how can they have any effect on that artifact?” Rachel asked.

  “Ah, that’s the controversial, you might even say magical part. Although this is not accepted by ‘a majority of scientists,’ one theory claims that when a neutrino passes through an object or person, it leaves behind a bit of information and picks up a bit of information. That would explain how the positions of the planets affect something here on earth. Planets are very big and billions of neutrinos are passing through them all the time. If each neutrino picked up a bit of information from the planet, and then, when passing through the artifact, left behind that bit of information, the position of the planet could affect its creation.

  “These neutrinos could also affect people. Maybe when we are born or conceived we are affected by the stars and planets. Maybe that’s part of our individual programming. Who knows? Maybe it’s all part of the grand plan of the universe.”

  “Wow, Professor, you’re blowing my freakin’ mind. Did they teach you this stuff in college or did Gabriel tell it to Ward?”

  “Neither, actually. I’ve been doing some research into the possible scientific basis for metaphysical, arcane and magical ideas. The neutrino idea came from a guy called Ra Uru Hu.”

  “Who?”

  “That’s right, Hu.”

  “Who?”

  “Yes. He calls himself Ra Uru Hu.”

  “Ra Uru who what?”

  “I can’t believe this,” I said. “We’re stuck in an Abbot and Costello routine.”

  “Who?”

  “Forget it. Just forget it! I’ve dug myself too deep in this hole. Just remember neutrinos.”

  “I think the neutrinos have picked too many bits out of your brain, Professor,” Rachel said suppressing a smile.

  “That’s what it’s feeling like. Let’s just say that it’s very difficult to make a real magical device.”

  “OK,” Rachel said, “I’ll stipulate that the artifact can’t be easily copied. I’ll even stipulate that it has magical properties that are unknown to us. So why was it stolen yesterday? If this thing is ancient, and Beth’s mother had it before she died several years ago, what changed? Why wasn’t it stolen before? Beth and Caite said that it had been in the store for some length of time. Why did it disappear now?”

  “That’s a good question,” I said. “I have no idea.”

  “Maybe,” Rachel postulated, “Beth’s mother had a way of protecting it while she was alive. Maybe whoever gave it to her told her how to protect it in some magical way. But her mother never taught Beth magic, so Beth couldn’t protect it. Let’s assume that when Beth’s mother died, the magical protection was lifted. Beth said her mother was killed when Beth was eighteen, so that would mean her mother died maybe four years ago?”

  “Four years is a good guess,” I said.

  “So why did it remain safe for four years and get stolen now?”

  “Another good question,” I said.

  “We’ll have to assume that Beth found the artifact shortly after her mother’s death as she was sorting through her mother’s things,” Rachel continued. “That means that she probably moved it from where her mother lived to where Beth lives, but that had to have been years ago—not a recent change.

  “Beth probably stored or displayed it in her home before bringing it to the store, but it wasn’t stolen from her home. We don’t know how long she had it in her store. Even more importantly, we don’t know why she brought it to her store. This artifact was a personal memento of her mother. Why would she bring it to the store and put it in the back room? If she wanted to show it off, she would have put it in the main part of the store. I think this is the key: Why did Beth move the artifact into the back room of the store?”

  “Brilliant!” I exclaimed. “Sherlock Holmes has nothing on you, my dear. Let’s go ask Beth.”

  “Hold on there, Professor. If we go back with more questions, they’ll think we’ve taken their case. We don’t want to get their hopes up.”

  “Drat! My curiosity is killing me,” I muttered. “How about this; how about I go to the store tomorrow and give Beth a copy of my Photoshopped image of the artifact’s symbols. I could tell her the small amount of info I dug up about the Sigil of Aerten. I could say that maybe the picture and the info might help her think of some lead she could give to the police.”

  “Hmmm,” Rachel said. “That would be OK. Just be sure to let them know that we can’t take the case. You’re glad to give them the info you have, no charge, but we can’t take the case.”

  “Agreed,” I said. I’ll go over tomorrow morning.