Day 15

I had to wonder how Lee could sleep. Despite first class accommodations I’d also purchased for the entire ‘team’, this was one of the bumpiest flights I’d been on in a long while and most of the men, like more than half of the passengers that I could tell, were literally airsick. Even the attendants dashed to the nearest available head or cubbyhole to use the complimentary barf bags.

If any of Lee’s crew noticed him sleeping like a baby, I doubt if they’d have thought it odd. After all, he was the Skipper, and airsickness wouldn’t dare interrupt his slumbers.

Another flash of lightening and the resulting glint of Lee’s ring brought me back to all of the events of the past two weeks, especially yesterday’s.

Thanks to Lee and Joe’s ‘Operation Eavesdrop’, O’ Malley and O’ Shaunessy were safely seconded to a federal prison for the time being.

O’ Shaunessy took a plea deal so he got  a reduced sentence and no trial. In fact he’ll be the key witness against O’Malley. As for O’Malley, well, if he’s smart he’ll do the same. I doubt he’s stupid enough to let things go to trial. In addition to the recent charges, he’s facing some hard time for past conspiracies as well.

In any case, neither men are threats to Lee’s life or the Nelson Estate anymore.

While Mrs. Crane and ‘the boys’, as she called them, weren’t yet home from the police station, Edith and I had kept our appointment with the antiquities dealer to inspect and evaluate the Nelson Ring.

It was a smaller operation than I’d thought it would be, despite also . dealing with artifacts recovered from shipwrecks and archeological sites, to verify vessel, era, etc.

“So you see, Admiral,” Miss Bates was saying as she gave us a quick tour of the facilities, “this is just the place you need to help you with the Nelson Ring. Ah, here we are,” she opened the door to the small (comparatively speaking) office of Mr. Smyth-Wixom. “We’re here, Smitty!”

 A bespectacled man of indefinite age, looked up from the microscope on his desk, which was cluttered with paperwork, a few greenish nails, some rotted wooden shoes, and an old cookie jar stuffed with parchment scrolls.

 The wall behind him was equally cluttered with shelves of various objects d’ art and one glass enclosed bookcase which held volumes of what looked like extremely old and rare volumes.

“Well,” he rose and extended his hand, “so good to meet you Admiral Nelson, Miss Nelson. Call me Smitty. Miss Bates has told me all about your little ring. Now, let’s get down to business and see what all the fuss is about...” he cleared off a vintage teddy bear and a high button shoe from one of the chairs, while Miss Bates cleared the sofa of a worn top hat, a pair of embroidered gloves and a stitched sampler, and moved some files off of the coffee table in front of it.

I removed the ring (protected by the handkerchief) from my inside pocket and handed it to him.

“Ah yes, now let’s see if that curse is real or just psychosomatic. You’d be surprised by the power of suggestion...” he said as he took the ring out of the handkerchief and held it.

“Hm...well...er...yes...”he  muttered as he placed it back into the cloth, and pulled out some cotton gloves to wear. “We don’t see too many cursed items, you know.”

He began to speak to himself again, “Celtic design...some rust, or whatever...weight...to be determined....come along down to the lab. Let’s find out just how old this little ring is. Miss Bates said there’s supposed to be some hair encased in it. King Brian Boru’s and  his son’s?”

“Well,” I said, “he’s supposed to have called the boy his son.”

“It would seem odd, a  boy with black hair, unlike the Irish redhead.  By the way, for the longest time it was said the king’s bones were buried  in the North Wall of St. Patrick’s Church in Armagh, Ireland. But the church wasn’t built till medieval times so it was only hearsay until a few years ago.”

“Yes,” Edith said, “I seem to remember hearing about that. He had a marble coffin, didn’t he?”

“Yes indeed. Do you want to see a picture of it? And of the skeleton? One of the most complete  found to date from the era. Died in 1014, if I remember correctly.”

“Er...” I hesitated.

“We’d be delighted,” Edith said.

“When the DNA test was done,” Smitty said as he rifled through a file cabinet, “there was a lot of disappointment by families who had long believed they were descended from him and found out they weren’t. But then I’m sure you know how family tales can get exaggerated over time, or even invented.

“There were also some families who could actually prove descent now. Ah, here it is...excellent stone work, don’t you think, for the age?” he handed us the pictures. “And the remains, well, marble coffin or not, even they can’t escape the ravages of time, water damage, and the like. It’s a porous material despite its’ lookes, you know. In any case, he was buried with his sword, and shield. Rings, bracelets, and crown as you can see. Regal even in death.”

“Er yes,” I said, a little sickened by the skull’s vacant eye sockets and rotted teeth.

“With his DNA on file, we’ll be able to see if the hair in your ring really did belong to him. We might even be able to prove if the Nelsons are related in some way. After all, he had several sons and daughters and who knows? If  I can have some cheek swabs from you we can get started right away. Even without the staff here today, we can’t hurry it any faster. About two hours for all the tests.”

“Of course,” Edith said sweetly as he led us to one of the labs where our mouths were swabbed and the long Q-tips placed in separate vials.

While our swabs were being processed, Smitty took us to another lab where he examined the ring with an advanced carbon dating procedure, and visual inspection, then he placed the ring in a special solvent that dissolved the centuries of built up rust and debris without damaging the gold and silver.

“You know, the design on the king’s shield matches the design on the cameo....”

“Oh this is so exciting!” Miss Bates said.

Finally, a timer dinged and he read the printout from the computer.

“Date confirmed between 800 and 1015 A.D.”

Then he rinsed and dried the ring, and by using a very small pick, managed, after some trouble, to  open the ring’s small cameo.

Inside the solid gold housing, lay two intertwined swatches of hair. I was surprised that they looked as if they’d been cut yesterday.

“Well,” he said, “we know the story about a boy is true if this black curl means anything.” He gingerly snipped a fraction of one strand and put it in a petri dish, then he did the same to the reddish blond, and if I wasn’t mistaken, graying swatch, and took them to the DNA lab to begin testing.

Then, we waited in his office. I must have fidgeted as Edith took my hand.

“Sorry. I know  this is nothing earth shaking, but...”

“Perhaps our guests would like a cup of tea, Miss Bates,” Smitty said, “I believe the vending machines have recently been restocked.  In fact, I could use one myself.”

“We’d be happy to treat you to something a bit more substantial,” Edith said. “In fact, we can call for some take out if you like.”

There were nods of agreement all around and while we waited for both the lab results and the food, Smitty spoke about a recently discovered shipwreck that I might be interested in and showed me some gold doubloons. It was difficult, if not impossible, to tell him I’d had my fill of gold doubloons from Seaview’s adventures, thank you very much. In the end I ‘ooohed’ and ‘ahhhed’ like the women did and was grateful when the orders of Sweet and Sour Chicken and Rueben sandwiches arrived, as it would be a bit difficult to speak with my mouth full.

It was nearly 5 p.m. before all the tests had been completed and compared and Smitty handed me back the ring in a protective acrylic box, with  printouts of the test results.

“Well, I can prove you two are siblings,” Smitty chucked to Edith and I,“I can also prove that the black hair shows no relationship to the red. We were also able to see, with our advanced technology, that the black hair belonged to someone male, about 9 or 10 years old.”

“Oh dear,” Miss Bates sighed, “then the ring wasn’t given to him for an act of battlefield heroism?”

“On the contrary,” Smitty said, “in those days boys took an active part with the men. Usually not on the front lines until they were a bit older, but it did happen. However, I’m inclined to believe that this may have been given him as a token of friendship, thanks, or even adoption,  before they boy would have been expected to wield a sword or ax.”

“And the other hair?” I asked.

“This is where things get interesting. It is King Brian Boru’s hair. When he was between 30 and 35 and...” he paused, a grin forming on his face,” he’s also a direct lineal ancestor of yours.”

“Ohmygod!” Edith jumped up and down clapping her hands. “He is our great to the whatever grandfather! He is!”

“I’m so happy for you my dears,” Miss Bates hugged her, then me. “I suppose then you really can call this the Nelson Ring.”

“But the boy,” I said. “It really belongs to his descendants...”

“Admiral,” Smitty said, “ it’s none of my business, but the ESP and sixth sense that Captain Crane displayed well, it may simply have been that. Holding the ring. Picking up any lingering memories  that the owner had. But, since the ring burned my hand too, I’m thinking perhaps you should convince the Captain to let me compare his DNA with the boy’s. For scientific  curiosity, if nothing else.”
“Then you think Captain Crane could be the boy’s descendant?” Miss Bates asked. ”I was thinking that too, after the séance.”

“It’s possible. It might also be a waste of our and his time, but I am intrigued. He called the boy Ara in his vision. He also spoke of tambourines, Mt. Ararat and Hayastan. Hayastan is the native word for Armenia. It was a far advanced civilization compared to Europe at the time. And Captain Crane does look as if the ethnicity fits. I do have a color file picture of him. What do you say Admiral? I believe the U.S. Military has DNA of all its’ members. Though I’m sure the paperwork would have to be approved... the results might not come back for weeks, even months...”

“It’s really Lee’s decision,” I hesitated, “and it won’t prove anything but that King Brian Boru had some kind of relationship with the black haired boy...adopted son, or favored retainer...yes, go ahead. I’ll call in a few favors from NCIS. They have the most recent data. I remember they took samples from all of us only a few years ago.”

“Oh, Harry, this is so exciting!” Edith said. “Wouldn’t it be something if they were actually related?”

“I only wish I could sit down with Captain Crane and have one of my friends that specializes in ESP have a session with him...” Smitty said.

“I could help!” Miss Bates said, “we can use the same outfits and fishbowl..”

“I’m afraid I don’t think he’d be agreeable to that,” I interrupted,  “and we really do have to be returning to Santa Barbara.”

“Yes, of course,” Smitty said sadly.

“You will bring it up with Lee, though, won’t you Harry?” Edith asked.

“Yes sweetie, I’ll ask,” I said, defeated by her little girl pleading,  though I knew Lee would be appalled at the idea of  another paranormal vision accompanied by the women’s beads, bangles, and an upside down fishbowl on the table.

We returned home to everyone in a joyous mood. Riley was pounding away on the grand piano (that was in sore need of a tune up). Sharkey, Ski and Pat were busy in the kitchen with Mrs. Crane while FBI agents were speaking with Lee and Joe in the living room.

“Well, we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” one of the Agents was saying as he patted Lee on the back. “Good job, Lee. If you ever quit your day job, I can promise you one with us.”

Lee grinned sheepishly, and I knew in that moment that even if the Nelson Ring wasn’t the Nelson’s  by right,(as I believed that it really belonged to the boy’s descendants)  it had been handed down from Nelson fathers to Nelson sons for a long long time. And it was time to hand it down one more time. To Lee,  the son of my heart.

As I made up my mind,  I knew in that same heart, that the black haired boy, who had probably been the son of the king’s heart, wouldn’t mind.

Another jar of the plane roused me from my musings and apparently it had awoken Lee as he yawned and smiled .

“Sleep well, lad?” I asked.

“Like a baby...a bit surprised though, if this bouncing around’s been going on. Had the nicest dream,” he sighed.

“Tell me,” I said as I noticed though the small window, that the storm clouds begin to lift.

“I dreamed that I was about 10, I guess. I was laying down on the emerald green grass looking at blossoming shamrocks while the butterflies flitted about. One landed on my shoulder. A man laughed. He was  middle aged, with the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen. Even bluer than yours. He had scraggly hair, and a long beard, reddish gold with a few streaks of grey in it. But what caught my attention was that he was wearing a kilt! He raised me up and ruffled my hair, but I didn’t mind. You know how I normally hate that. Anyway, he was smiling at me with the kind of smile my father used to give me. The kind of smile you give me sometimes. A smile that meant I was of value, protected. Loved, even. We walked hand in hand down the path to the shoreline. There was a rainbow in the sky. A portent of good luck, he called it. From God. And then I woke up. I think it was seeing the same kid again. Only I dreamed it was me this time. Probably just one of the ring’s vibes, huh?”

“I don’t know, Lee. With you, weird things are the norm.”

“I’m still not sure about the ring, Harry,” he rubbed the Nelson ring gently, his own on his other hand. “I mean, I know it belonged to your father and his, and all the way back to the kid...but...”

“I don’t think the boy would mind, Lee. Besides, it’s been in the family all this while....it is the Nelson Ring.”

“But..

“Lee, I was wondering. Since the Institute is the Nelson Crane Institute now...would you do me the honor of accepting the Nelson name to add to your own? As  Lee Crane Nelson? Or  Lee Nelson Crane?  Your pick. I won’t be offended if you say no. But  I’d like to make our relationship official...legally. I guess you’d call it an adult adoption. If they can do that sort of thing of course.”

Just then a rainbow came out and we looked at with awe from the plane’s porthole window.

“I think that’s your answer...pop,” he grinned.

 In my office a few hours after we’d landed,  Angie came in  with the rough draft for  Lee’s new business cards. She wasn’t happy about all the work orders she’d had to do  for the change of stationery, door plates for his office and for Seaview, official name change forms for the IRS, the Navy, etc. for Lee. She was about to have me sign the requests when Sheamus appeared and sat on the edge of my desk, leering at her.

“Agggghhh!” she screeched. “A...a ghost! And he looks like you!”

“That I do, dearie, that I do. Boo.”

She promptly fainted.

“Not again,” I said, not so much irritated with Angie, but that I’d had enough of fainting women for now. “Well, don’t just sit there, help me!” I ordered as I knelt beside her and  tried to rouse her. “What are you doing here anyway,” I asked as he did nothing to assist...

“I come to thank ye.”

“Thank me?”

“Aye, the powers that be are allowing me to leave my infernal wandering’s and cross over and..”

“Harry,” Lee walked in studying the  file in his hand, “ I just got that report from purchasing...” he stopped cold when he saw Angie passed out and Sheamus leaning against my table, his arms crossed....”what are you doing here?” Then he knelt down beside me. “Is she okay?”

“Ohhhh,” Angie moaned and came to, pointing to Sheamus.

“Yes, he’s a ghost,” I said, “My great great great great grandfather actually. It’s okay, they’re letting him cross over. He won’t be haunting anyone anymore, isn’t that right Captain Nelson?”

“Aye, so it is. Well, I’ll be off now...”

“Wait...”Lee asked as helped Angie up to sit down on one of the chairs. “Where exactly are you crossing over to?”

“Ach, I’m a bit worried about meself. But if they let me wanderings end, I’m hopeful it’s to a place that’s not too warm for my liking. By  the way, my boyo,” he said to me, “a certain king of the old sod says hello and for you not to be a worrying about giving yon Captain the Nelson Ring. Said all would be revealed one day, whatever that meant. Well, I be seeing the light appearing, thank goodness. If  you come to think of me in days ahead, Harriman, remember I wasn’t ‘all’ bad. And this proves it,” he laughed, vanishing.

Angie fainted again.

By the time we roused Angie and gave her the rest of the day off, Sharkey (He was taking care of the outer office for  Angie’s absence)entered with a special delivery letter from Smitty.

“Thank you Chief, would you ask Captain Crane to come here? I believe he’s returned to  Seaview.”

“Right away sir...er...begging yor pardon but you look worried.”

“Indeed I am,  Francis. Go on and get the Captain now if you please.”

“Yes sir,” he responded and closed the door.

How was I going to tell Lee that I’d had his DNA  compared to the boy’s? Even Edith hadn’t blabbed about it. This was a matter between Lee and me.

“Are you okay?” Lee panted having run all the way. “Sharkey said something was wrong.”

“I’m fine. But I’m not sure you’re going to like this...Lee, we...um...I authorized a DNA test for you and the boy. This is the result. I haven’t opened it yet and...”

“But...”

“I know it’s a long shot, but with your visions...the legend...well...wouldn’t you like to know if you’re related to him? That you might be his heir?”

“Harry,” Lee sat on the edge of my desk, “all that matters to me is that I’m your heir. I don’t need to know about him. So,” he took the sealed letter, “just toss this.”

“Lee, please...out of...um...scientific curiosity?”

“For all we know, the boy of my vision could have been a slave, maybe even a catamite. They did things like that back then. Even gave them gifts,” he rubbed the ring again.

“He might also have been the child’s adoptive father. Please Lee, at least we can learn if the boy is your great great and so on grandfather.. but I won’t force you to know...” I held the letter over the wastebasket.

“Oh, all right,” Lee said, slightly irritated. Perhaps he was afraid. I don’t know why, but he seemed to be. Maybe it was just the idea that I’d given him something that hadn’t truly belonged to me. And this might prove it.

He took the letter opener and ripped the envelope open, and pulled out the one page document and read it aloud.

“Dear Admiral Nelson. The results between the DNA of Captain Crane and the boy we’ve named Ara, prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt..”

“Excuse me Admiral,” Sharkey knocked on the edge of the open doorway.

“Not now!” Lee and I both yelled.

“Well?” I asked as Lee finished reading it silently then handed it to me.  

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt,” I started to  read the letter from where Lee had left off, “that there is a lineal relationship between the two. While we can’t determine the generational details, we can say that Captain Crane is a descendant of the boy with black hair....” I looked up. “Do you want to talk about it, Lee?”

“It’s...a bit overwhelming...”Lee ran a hand through his hair.

“And altogether fitting,” I took his hand that wore the Nelson ring and placed my hand  over it. “From one father and son of the heart, to their descendants who are also father and son by the heart. I  wonder if they could even have imagined what the future would bring.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait for when we all cross over. Unless,” he grinned, “you’d like me to actually have that ESP reading he mentions further down in the letter.”

“It would be interesting, Lee. Perhaps we could learn more about the boy and his king.”

Sharkey’s ‘ahem’ from the doorway interrupted. “Sorry to interrupt again, sirs, it’s just that Miss Bates is here with a guy that calls himself The Great Alonzo...said you both might be interested in some mind reading and extra sensory perception sessions.”

“Up to you, Lad,” I told Lee.

“Send them in Chief. We’re too busy today, but we’ll arrange something for the weekend.”

And so it stands. Lee will be ‘going under’ next Friday, (providing he and Seaview haven’t been drafted to save the world again).

Frankly, I’m looking forward to Lee’s sixth sense kicking in. He’s only okay with it, which is a big difference. Meanwhile Miss Bates and ‘The Great Alonzo’ are NIMR’s special guests and I’ve opened up two of the guest cottages for them for the week. The ‘Seaview boys’ of course are happy to see Miss Bates and have been enjoying watching Lee’s discomfiture when she ruffles his hair, which is every chance she gets, amazed apparently at how similar it feels  to Miguel’s, (who is ‘on assignment’ with the purchasing department in San Diego).

Angie, Lola, Tish, Katie, have spent most of the day chatting with her, and  letting The Great Alonzo ( I wonder if Miss Bates found him at a carnival) ‘read’ their  minds.

It got to the point that I had to ask Chip to help me with the damn computer and printer and to take notes. (He alone, among Seaview’s crew knows shorthand, glory be!)

A few minutes ago  I saw Lee, Miss Bates beside him, who was running her hand through his hair, get into his car and drive off.

“Excuse me, sir,” Sharkey interrupted my thoughts. “The machine shop’s finished making the Skipper’s new name plates and we got  that new paperwork from legal ready for your signature.”

“Ah yes,” I reached for the engraved name plates and the document. ‘Lee Nelson Crane’, I whispered to myself, grinning with pleasure, “Tell maintenance these are  okay to install. By the way, did Captain Crane say where he and Miss Bates were going?”

“Er,” Sharkey’s face grew red, “They um...they’re going to the magic store...for a glass globe.”

“We don’t need that for a psychic reading.”

“No sir, but um, she’s kinda’ talked him into another séance’ too. Something about bringing back King Brian Boru from the other side. She said you might like to meet another  of your great great whatever grandfathers.”

“Oh gawd,” I moaned.

“It’ll be okay sir...The Great Alonzo will help..he’s a registered psychic, helps the cops... he only does mind reading for shows...Sir?”

I took a breath and dismissed him with a nod.

As I take  pen to hand to finish this last page of my journal about the last two weeks, I realize that I haven’t recorded  that the Nelson Jewels which  O’ Malley had made O’ Shaunessy steal,  were recovered and valued by the FBI, and found to be worth about a couple of million dollars (by today’s market). I’m letting Edith decide if she wants them in the museum or in the bank.

 As for what the psychic session will reveal on Friday, about the boy Ara and perhaps even King Brian Boru,  God only knows. I’ve decided not to dwell on it.

It only remains now, for Lee to sign the document that will make him my legal son. (Once the lawyers notarize it.) And even if he hadn’t  agreed to it, since he already accepted the Nelson ring, and took my name to be part of his, it’s just a piece of paper. Lee Nelson Crane, has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

~Harriman Horatio Nelson~