my dad has always
been the preacher in a church so we always went to all the
scheduled activities. I don’t know about the other people, but I
could always tell when my mom was getting restless. Don’t get me
wrong, we used to be happy. My mom was different when I was young.
When I reached an age that I didn’t need her as much, she would go
off into her own world, but still in the same house. I often
wondered if I said something to her, if I was mean and told her
that I didn’t need her, and she just turned away from me and my
dad.”
“It is normal to think that.”
“You know we went through all that counseling
and church sponsored stuff, sort-of like talk-ins where we would
complain about how she wasn’t there anymore. After the third time,
I guess they were listening to most of the same things over and
over again so there was a time where they let me just stop going.
But my dad is probably going through counseling now.”
The Sergeant said, “My mom died when I was
young so I never got to know her, I guess I had it easy in some
ways and some ways not so easy.”
The squirrels watched and waited, like they
were spectators at a tennis match.
“You know more about Julian Compton than you
are telling me, don’t you?”
“I told you already about the Turkish Prince
thing. I told you about him being some kind of financial wizard.
You know that he lives here in New Orleans. You know that I suspect
that he knows something about the signet.”
He folded his arms, tucking the folder under
his arm and crumpling his jacket even more and revealing a huge
coffee stain down the front of his white shirt. He paced a little
then stopped.
“I think the signet is a key to the murders
in Philly and some other places too. The Turkish Prince has friends
and enemies almost everywhere. There are some twenty-six murders
that we have attributed to people who have something to do with
that signet. I have traced them by their money trail. From there I
found out about his relationship with your mother, some of the
money was connected to the Journal purchase, which I assume is the
reason she is dead. I suspect that she wanted the Journal and she
didn’t want Compton to have it.”
He started pacing again, “You understand this
is all just a theory. I only have a few facts where your mother is
concerned.”
“You have more than I have. When my mother
went away the second time, I was very surprised when she came back
again—but always the trusting and forgiving husband, he let her
come back, but this time she remained distant, not even trying to
come back to a life with her family. Then, Compton came for her. He
just pulled-up out front in his shiny car; she came out of the
house almost immediately, dressed in fancy expensive clothes and
designer shoes. I watched her leave.”
The squirrels were like statues, waiting.
“Compton killed her, didn’t he?”
“I only have intuition, I don’t have
proof.”
“Proof, then the Journal is what we should
focus on. Either he sent her for it, or she used his money to buy
it. It must be connected to her murder. What surprises me is that
she apparently willingly met him there at The Celtic Wheel. Did she
trust him enough to meet him at a place like that? Or did he lure
her there with the promise of something else or did he just betray
and murder her without another thought?”
She pulled out a handful of nuts and tossed
them on the ground, five squirrels sat around the pile,
munching.
“I have done some research on the Journal,
but it is very slim. I have some printouts of the front and back
but no reference to the Sumerian text. Do you have more information
than that?”
“I have some of the history of who has owned
it and where it has been stored, apparently the owners have been
very cautious and kept it hidden away for the last ninety years,
then the estate was passed on to the descendants and lo and behold;
it was for sale to the highest bidder, which in this case was
been the preacher in a church so we always went to all the
scheduled activities. I don’t know about the other people, but I
could always tell when my mom was getting restless. Don’t get me
wrong, we used to be happy. My mom was different when I was young.
When I reached an age that I didn’t need her as much, she would go
off into her own world, but still in the same house. I often
wondered if I said something to her, if I was mean and told her
that I didn’t need her, and she just turned away from me and my
dad.”
“It is normal to think that.”
“You know we went through all that counseling
and church sponsored stuff, sort-of like talk-ins where we would
complain about how she wasn’t there anymore. After the third time,
I guess they were listening to most of the same things over and
over again so there was a time where they let me just stop going.
But my dad is probably going through counseling now.”
The Sergeant said, “My mom died when I was
young so I never got to know her, I guess I had it easy in some
ways and some ways not so easy.”
The squirrels watched and waited, like they
were spectators at a tennis match.
“You know more about Julian Compton than you
are telling me, don’t you?”
“I told you already about the Turkish Prince
thing. I told you about him being some kind of financial wizard.
You know that he lives here in New Orleans. You know that I suspect
that he knows something about the signet.”
He folded his arms, tucking the folder under
his arm and crumpling his jacket even more and revealing a huge
coffee stain down the front of his white shirt. He paced a little
then stopped.
“I think the signet is a key to the murders
in Philly and some other places too. The Turkish Prince has friends
and enemies almost everywhere. There are some twenty-six murders
that we have attributed to people who have something to do with
that signet. I have traced them by their money trail. From there I
found out about his relationship with your mother, some of the
money was connected to the Journal purchase, which I assume is the
reason she is dead. I suspect that she wanted the Journal and she
didn’t want Compton to have it.”
He started pacing again, “You understand this
is all just a theory. I only have a few facts where your mother is
concerned.”
“You have more than I have. When my mother
went away the second time, I was very surprised when she came back
again—but always the trusting and forgiving husband, he let her
come back, but this time she remained distant, not even trying to
come back to a life with her family. Then, Compton came for her. He
just pulled-up out front in his shiny car; she came out of the
house almost immediately, dressed in fancy expensive clothes and
designer shoes. I watched her leave.”
The squirrels were like statues, waiting.
“Compton killed her, didn’t he?”
“I only have intuition, I don’t have
proof.”
“Proof, then the Journal is what we should
focus on. Either he sent her for it, or she used his money to buy
it. It must be connected to her murder. What surprises me is that
she apparently willingly met him there at The Celtic Wheel. Did she
trust him enough to meet him at a place like that? Or did he lure
her there with the promise of something else or did he just betray
and murder her without another thought?”
She pulled out a handful of nuts and tossed
them on the ground, five squirrels sat around the pile,
munching.
“I have done some research on the Journal,
but it is very slim. I have some printouts of the front and back
but no reference to the Sumerian text. Do you have more information
than that?”
“I have some of the history of who has owned
it and where it has been stored, apparently the owners have been
very cautious and kept it hidden away for the last ninety years,
then the estate was passed on to the descendants and lo and behold;
it was for sale to the highest bidder, which in this case was
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