Day 9

It had promised to be a good day, and I was looking forward to a little respite from Lee and ‘Miguel’s ongoing investigations. At least as far as getting themselves into trouble that is.

In fact, as the day wore on and Lee and Joe, sprawled on the floor of the family room, continued to pour over the copies they’d made of the digital images  that ‘Miguel ’ had taken from O’Malley’s files during the ‘arachnid incident’, all I’d had to do was field incessant phone calls.  And all from Miss Bates, asking if poor Miguel was feeling any better. (He’d called in sick for today, remember) In fact, it was getting to the point that if she called one more time I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist telling her to go to you know where when fate took a hand.

“Lee, get upstairs,” Edith hissed from the doorway. “It’s Miss Bates. She’s got some chicken soup for Miguel.”

“Just tell her the boy’s contagious,” I said. “Tell her we’re all contagious.”

“Harriman, really. She’s a nice old bird and it would be rude, especially since she gave Miguel his job. I’ve already opened the gate.”

Joe gathered up all their copies, laptops, flash drives, cameras, printers, everything and stowed them in the study, closing the door, as Lee ran upstairs to change into ‘Miguel’.

“And don’t forget your contacts!” she added.

Lee’s eyes had been bothering him, which, I presumed was the real reason he’d decided to stay home today just so he wouldn’t have to wear them.

 “What’s going on?” Mrs. Crane emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

“It’s Miss Bates!  Battle stations everyone,” I ordered.

“Where’s Lee going to be?” she asked.

But before we could decide on an alibi, should she inquire, the limo had deposited her at the front, and doorbell rang.

“Miss Bates!” Edith opened the door and welcomed her in, the chauffer, who was carrying a huge thermos, a couple of take out bags from Taco Bell, and a briefcase following.

“Thank you my dear. I just couldn’t live with myself knowing the poor boy was so ill. So I hoped that a little chicken soup and some kind of Mexian food would help.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said, “but he doesn’t have a cold. Stomach flu or food poisoning. I’m not sure soup or anything else would be a good idea.”

“Well, then, for when he’s on the mend. Is there a place we can put these ? I’ll take the briefcase ,” she told the chauffeur.

“Oh, of course, how stupid of me,” Edith slapped her forehead, “this way please,” and led the chauffeur to the kitchen. “I’m sure Mrs. Crane would love to test out a freshly baked cinnamon roll with you.”

“May I at least see Miguel?” Miss Bates asked.

“Um,” I tried to think of a way out of this mess when we heard the most god awful retching from the upstairs bathroom.

“Er, perhaps not,” she said as I showed her to  the living room and Edith returned.

“I was going to try to arrange a meeting with you and your sister,” Miss Bates was saying as she sat on the sofa, “but I might as well tell you now, that we found something in the museum you might be interested in...,” she opened the briefcase and pulled out a very small, and non descript wooden jewelry box. “We were checking the vaults for any flooding from the melting snow, when a workman tripped over some broken flagstones. It as underneath them.”

“Why’s a jewelry box engraved with ‘son’?” Edith asked. “And what does it have to do with us?”

“No, dear. Those are initials. S.O. N. and there’s something inside it. Go ahead, open it up,” she handed it over.

“Oh,” Edith sighed, disappointed.

“It’s an ugly old ring, I’ll grant you, but it’s actually pure silver, just badly tarnished.  And it’s not a reproduction of a Celtic ring, I’m sure of that now,” she pulled out a brittle handwritten paper from underneath it. “ This ring was  pawned to the museum, by one Captain Sheaemus O’Hara Nelson, an ancestor of yours I believe, if the Historical Society is to be believed. Of course, there's no record of the pawn agreement that we can find due to the fact that a fire  destroyed a great many journals and account books from the period.”

“The Nelson ring,” I gasped awestruck.

“Yes,” Miss Bates said, “rumored to have been given to a young boy on the field of battle by King Brian Boru of Irish fame, I believe, for services rendered.”

“And handed down from father to son through the generations,” I mused,  “ until it came to Shaemus  and presumably lost with him when he died at sea.”

“Why’d he pawn it?” Edith asked. “He was our wealthiest ancestor!”

“I’m afraid there’s no answer to that, dear,” Miss Bates said. “I just thought you’d like to know the ring isn’t lost after all. We plan to clean it up after further examination and verification, and give it a prominent display case. You could have a long drawn out legal battle if you want  it back, however,” she grinned.

“Was it anywhere near the Nelson jewels that weren’t on display?” I asked.

“Actually, no, unless the thieves dropped it in their getaway.”

“Excuse me,” Joe appeared at the door, “Miguel would like to say hello. C’mon Miguel, she’s not going to bite you.”

“Senorita?” Miguel leaned on the door frame, as if he were ready to drop,  “Miguel... enfermo, er...sick. Si?” he was looking at me to translate then, “No fire?” to her.

“Oh my dear boy,” Miss Bates rose and placed her hand on Miguel’s forehead, “at least there’s no fever...soup? Can you handle some soup?” she made slurping noises in cupped hands.

“Sopa? Si. Sopa bueno,” he tried to grin, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

“Come along to the kitchen. If you’ll show me the way, my dear?” she asked Edith.

My thoughts of course, were not so much with Lee’s latest ‘scene’ as Miguel, but with the ring. I hardly dared pick it up out of the box. Something that had been worn by a young boy  before even the year 1000. Something ancient.  Something rare.  Something mine. Well, not really if that scallywag Captain Nelson had pawned it. But why? I asked myself as I lifted the black encrusted ring out of the box. I swear I felt it burn in my hands as if I weren’t entitled to even touch such a historical relic.

Laughter from the kitchen startled me out of my musings  and I had to wonder.  All these mysteries were just spiraling out of control. When would we have answers to them? First, the Jewel theft, then the threat against Lee, and now this.

Only time will tell.