Relic Hunter - A short story..
It probably needs more work, but I think I@m reaching the point of dimishing improvements editing it myself. So I'd welcome some feedback.
....
He was there when I
walked into the pub, sitting with his back to the door, eyes downcast
into is pint. His clothes looking crumbled and worn. Times had
clearly not been good for Alex.
I had known him for
about 25 years, although we hadn't spoken for 10 years or possibly
longer. He used to dress well, in a sort of country gentlemen style ,
but he had let that go. Today , he was dressed in a market stall
jeans and rather scraggly woollen jumper with patches at the elbows.
Alex looked up and saw
me , draining the remainder of his pint as he gestured to me at the
Bar.
“And another of what
he's drinking”, I told the barman, indicating Alex.
Once I was served I took both pints over and joined Alex at his table. I pushed his point across the table towards him , asking “So how have you been keeping old bean?”, even though the answer to that question was obvious.
“Work has, well kinda
dried up - you know.”
“It been difficult
for everyone since that Bank collapsed. Are the New York rich set
tightening their belts too?”. Alex got most of his work form
amongst the the affluent in new York and occasionally London .
“' 'pose so. “
Odd, Alex was normally
well spoken, It wasn't just he wasn't getting work - something was
eating at him , whatever it was - his spirit was much lower than I
had ever seen it. It was normally enthusiastic about his
opportunities and adventures , and boy he had had adventures. “So
how did that job in the middle East go, you said it wasn't for the
usual bunch ?”. When I last saw him he had told me he had got an
unusual commission from an unlikely source.
“Huh,”, Alex looked
up a bit surprised, What did I tell you about that. It was supposed
to be secret.”
“Not a great dealt to
be honest”, I replied. Alex seem relieved.
“But that is what
started it all.”
“It all? I'm
not sure I follow you”
“My heart's just not
it in any more, since then it just hasn't felt the same.”
“Did you not
succeed?”
“Oh, I was
successful, amazingly wonderfully successful. It's a success I can
never top. That's half the problem of course.”
I took a slow slip of
my beer, the establishment had it's own microbrewery in the old
stable block which still remained from back when this was a coaching
inn on the London-Newhaven route. The beer had the clear nutty taste
that the CAMRA guidebook recommended. It struck me that whatever Alex
problems were he hadn't actually lost his sense of taste. Always one
on the lookout for something special . That's probably how he got
into the business he was in.
“So what happened, or
can't you tell me”
“I shouldn't really
but, I doubt it matters much now, between you and me. Just - this
doesn't go any further old boy. Ok?”
“Yeah, Ok. Who would
I tell anyway ? ”. I'd not seen Alex like this before but then
his usual commission was to track lost art works – mainly stuff
that went missing during the war. Wasn't particularity sensitive –
or at least I was a pretty safe confidant, worked in IT all my life
an knew almost nothing about fine art. If it was just me that knew
Alex was searching for a Rembrandt it was unlikely to affect the
market much, I just didn't have other friends in that market, I could
blab to.
“Well there is that.
And in this case my client had been searching for the item, for a lot
longer than most of my contacts. A lot Longer. But they had mostly
given up . Then something changed that and they brought me on board
“Specifically, they
got a tip off ,where the item could be found – they couldn't be
known to be looking themselves, they need someone discrete , but on
their side.”
“So they gave you a
contract”
“Yeah, it wasn't
paying that highly – but you know it didn't matter - it more than
paid for my expenses at the time, and afterwards, well then there
would be afterwards..”
“So I guess that bit
didn't pan out”,
“Not really. no”
“You still haven't
told me what it was”
“Patience. Let me
tell this my way”.
I grunted and
acknowledgement back to Alex, savouring the beer while Alex took a
long drink and seem to settle in to tell the rest.
“My client was a
religious organisation, you probably know the one, anyway a new
document had turned up following a change in their administration.
They had to move some internal walls – luckily they don't have to
worry about listed buildings – and had found a private library
which looked intact from about 1300AD.”
“Wow.”, What else
could I say. On the other hand given my guess as to who the
organisation in question was, I can see why they might want to play
the game close to their chest. “So you went looking for the...”
“Don't say it's
name”, Alex interrupted me.
“Aww, come on, they
can't be listening everywhere.”
“No , but this Hotel
has historic connections with America, and THEY do listen
everywhere.”
“Erm.”, I didn't
know what to say, the capabilities of the NSA and Echelon were
reasonably well known – but did they really pass information on the
the Vatican?
“Well,according to
the new evidence the item was moved east during the crusades , around
1100AD. The paperwork showed this information was extracted by
torture almost a hundred years later. So at the time I didn't have
high hopes for it's accuracy. But actually it turn out to be the
break the world was waiting for.
“The information
suggested a particular place in Iraq, and getting there could have
been a problem. But someone summoned up a war as cover.”
“But, wasn't that about Oil?”
“No, that was the
second level cover., for something like this the covers they work go
deep, but that's a whole other story. I wasn't comfortable with my
working getting tangled up in all geopolitics around this ,but by
that point I was committed.”
“So you went to
Iraq?”
“Yes, and I found
hiding place but the cup had gone, - it resting place had been
ransacked. But recently, I recognised the insignia of “Sonderstab
F” amongst the debris and bodies left from the ransacking, I can't
be sure what happened but I suspect they were interrupted by the
British
, or even the Native forces.
There was a bit of upset between the two at one point, so my money on
the British. There probably a bigger story in why some of locals
decided to side with the Nazi's. But the important thing was I know
how to trace stuff the disappeared during the war.”
“So you think the
Nazi's found out about it.”
“Yes – I haven't a
clue how they found out about I,but something like it was exactly
what their occult services where looking for. They may have even
organised the local uprising so they could go looking.”
“The Germans really
did have occult forces ,then ?”
“They had people
trying - and this item has pretty widely advertised abilities.”
“Really? but isn't
that just a myth?”
“Occult research
tends to be about myths, but there may have been something to this
one. - I finally found the item – being kept in a plain
self-storage locker by a German civil servant who may have inherited
them, or may have found them himself. It not entirely clear. He is an
old contact, and one I'm not particularly proud off, but we've done a
lot of business to our mutual benefit over the years. He didn't know
what he had of course, and he can never be open about his collection
, the tax implications are phenomenal. I probably should have told
the police about his collection years ago, but his health has never
been great and what does it achieve?”
“Allowing the public
to see the lost works?”
“Pah. They just go
into the vaults of some museum anyway , and hardly ever go on
display”
“So you found the
...”
“The cup, yes”
,Alex interrupted“, It was covered in mould, and has been most of
it life as far as we can tell. But having found it - nothing will
ever seem the same. Finding is what tipped me over, well finding it
and then being told I had to keep quiet.”
“The cup was
disappeared of course - the public can't be allowed to know. After
all it just a plain wooden cup, nothing special about it. Well almost
nothing.”
“almost nothing - you
mean the myth?”
“Yes , remember I
said it was mouldy...”
“Umm....?”
“We got it tested.
Penicillin.”
© Roger Gammans
CC-BY-NC-SA 2013.
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