Fall melted away into November.
True to his promise, Giovanni Cafazzo was out on bail less than two hours after I had brought him in. The grand jury stalled on charges, and the police were reluctant to charge him with my attempted murder, though the videos indicated malice and not just self defense.
But the Cafazzo mob's books were studied carefully, and slowly Queen City began to move toward legal order. The District Attorney, Rebecca Pettingill, worked hand in glove with Captain Linseed and Sgt. Winslow's hand picked squads to round up and charge the higher-ups in Cafazzo's gang. And in order to avoid lengthy sentences themselves, several of them sold out their boss.
Cafazzo spent Thanksgiving in the county jail. He had been arrested three days earlier and denied bail, as it was felt he was a flight risk. The confident gang boss smiled for the press as he did his perp walk, but Sgt. Winslow assured me that he broke down and cried as he exchanged his Armani suit for the jail's orange jumpsuit.
In the weeks leading to Thanksgiving, though; I was busy settling into my new work as archaeologist in residence at the Queen City Museum of Natural History. I had a small office and lab, but I also was expected to offer tours and special lectures. And since this was a small museum, I was also responsible for overseeing several exhibits, including the traveling shows.
I had been working late at night in the days leading up to Thanksgiving, giving a lot of time to my museum duties and spending less time as White Owl. We had a big exhibit starting after Thanksgiving on the history of science. I'd been busy making sure all the elements were in a proper sequence, including the "pseudo science" side exhibits. On Tuesday night, I finished early and was headed out into the city for a patrol, when the curator stopped me.
"You're an expert on numismatics aren't you Ms. Nikos?" he asked. I cringed. Ravi Shakimar was a fussy man; diligent in his work but demanding the same of his co-workers. Technically I didn't report to him, but as the curator, he had a lot of pull over my funding.
"Well," I began. There's a much better coin expert in Megapolis."
"I'm aware of her, but you're here and she's not," he said in his clipped accent. He spun a coin at me, and without thinking I plucked from the air like a slow fly ball. I studied it carefully.
"It's a fake," I declared out of hand.
"Its far too shiny for something," I paused and glanced again, "from the thirteenth century. I think it's supposed to be English?"
"According to the show documents, it's a coin Roger Bacon had in his possession at the time of his death. According to the documents, it's passed through the hands of Agrippa, Paracelcus and even John Dee." Shakimar scowled.
"I agree the authenticity seems a little odd. But we know of many heirlooms that have passed along through the ages like that. Just none in this exquisite condition. Do the show documents indicate it's a model or reproduction?"
Shakimar shook his head. "No, it's passed as authentic. Moreover, it passes muster for the gold weight inside, and our own tests indicate the age as correct."
"Well if you want my opinion, display it. Let the audience draw their own conclusions."
Shakimar frowned. "I hate to do it, but all right. Still I'd feel better if I knew some more about it." He looked at me almost apologetically. "Would you be willing to contact the show's producer tomorrow? I'd do it myself, but I'm heading to Hub City for my family's Thanksgiving. Thank you!" He shoved a phone number at me, and slipped through the revolving doors without a backward glance.
"Of all the arrogance," I thought. I studied the coin again. The minting was definitely crude, but the coin resembled an English coin of the thirteenth century. Something was wrong though.
I sighed and went back to my little office, where I pulled up a catalog of historic coinage and began browsing. An hour later, I had found something similar to Bacon's coin. But it had been a copper shilling, not a gold coin. "Curiouser and curiouser," I mused.
I turned to the literature that had come with the show and quickly found the description of the item at hand. According to the show's literature, the coin actually WAS a copper shilling. "So how did you turn to gold?" I asked the coin.
I went out for the night after that. The bus to my new apartment wouldn't be coming for another hour, so I slipped into my White Owl togs and flew across the city for a one loop before going to bed. The November air was cold and slightly moist, and I shivered in the breeze. I was going to have to speak with Mr Wickersham about the possibility of a cold weather outfit.
I stepped onto the balcony of my fourth floor "penthouse" and slipped into my apartment. Daisy meowed and greeted me, then ran to the kitchen where her bowl sat empty. I smiled and followed her in, then opened a can of food and gave ti to her. I watched while she gobbled greedily; then we both went to bed.
The next morning, I called Allied Shows, and asked about the exhibit. The director assured me there were no gold coins, thirteenth century or otherwise in the exhibit, and I believed him. On my lunch break, I went to the loading area and found Malcom. The loading dock foreman remembered the trucks and told me. "They were local, Ms Nikos. Belonged to Sean Miribilis Shipping. That's a new one to me, " he said.
I nodded and headed back to my office. A few minutes later I was connected to the answering service of Sean Miribilis Shipping, Importing and Exporting Global, Inc. The recording told me politely that the company was closed through the weekend and would reopen Monday.
I finished up early, and went to my Papa's house for the night. Thanksgiving is a major holiday in the Nikos household, and we all felt very thankful. We went to a Wednesday Mass, then came home for a night of conversation and preparation. Diana was home, and Alex had brought Beth with him. The three of us spent time in the kitchen putting together the turkey, stuffing and pies, and chattering like old friends.
Thanksgiving dinner was joyous, made moreso by Alex's announcement that he and Beth would move in with Papa after the wedding. The family ate, drank and sang late into the night. After dinner, Diana and I stayed in the kitchen with Papa as we all did dishes. Alex and Beth spent some time on the couch watching football and planning their wedding. I wasn't too sure of how much of either got done.
"So Diana, you like the school, heh?" asked Papa.
Diana beamed, her blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, Papa. It's fantastic. The classes are wonderful and the boys are all so cute." She smiled.
Papa mimicked a heart attack. "She spends all my money at this university, and all she can talk about is boys? I can't believe it!" He tossed his washrag into the sink and stalked out in a mock fury.
We waited until he was done rumbling and sitting in his recliner before we both burst out giggling. "I can't believe you went through with it Diana," I said.
She grinned. "Well I had to give him something. And the boys ARE cute. Especially one."
"Oh, who might that be?" I asked.
"Rick Linseed. He's a receiver for Zenith's football team, and has had teams scouting him to go professional. And he's a local boy too. His father was just made acting police chief."
I dropped the butter knife. Rick's father was Winslow's superior officer, and had gotten his promotion in part due to White Owl's involvement. I decided not to tell Diana that part.
"So I won't be seeing him this weekend, Athena. And you have a new job too. So what's a girl to do with herself tomorrow?"
"Well you could hit the stores early, then stop by the museum for lunch," I suggested.
Diana smiled. "I'd like that."
By the time lunch rolled around on Friday, I had been on the phone with the import company's recording again, and done about two dozen small tasks that needed attending before the doors opened. There are always large crowds at any new show, and this was no exception.
The morning passed without incident though, and I met Diana for a nice lunch at the cafeteria. She'd been shopping, and was particularly pleased with all the Christmas gifts she'd found. "I especially think you'll like yours Athena," she pronounced.
Diana stayed for the tour, then said, "I need to get home." I waved and went back to the show. The last tour started, and I spotted a man in a jacket that read "Sean Miribilis Imports and Exports." Intrigued, I followed him at a discreet distance. He turned into the Alchemy side exhibit and paused at the case where we'd displayed the coin.
At that moment, I was bumped, and turned to apologise. The man said it was his fault, and I turned back toward the case. The man in the Sean Miribilis jacket was gone. I looked at the case and the coin was there, though now it was dingy and green as though it were made of copper several centuries old. The case had a fine mist on the inside too. It was as if there had been an atmospheric change.
I moved through the crowd, trying to find the man, and saw him slipping away at the door. He disappeared into the dark twilight though and I was stopped at the entry by Ravi Shakimar.
"Oh you're not leaving are you Athena?" he asked, tapping his watch.
I nodded. "Yes, tonight I have an appointment, Ravi. I'll see you Monday." He gave me a disapproving look, but I pushed past him and into the parking lot. The man in the jacket was gone though.
I came back through the revolving doors and slipped away to my office. I grabbed my bag and my coat, then went back out and caught a taxi to my apartment. Daisy yowled, and I fed her; then slipped into my uniform once more. I cinched the weapons belt tight around my waist then leapt from the deck into the cold air.
From my numerous calls, I remembered the location of the Mirabilis import company; a small building in German Park. I flew downtown, then headed into the former brewery area of Queen City. Mirabilis had set up in an old brew house, and I landed quietly and carefully on the roof.
For a place that was supposedly closed for the holidays, Miribilis Imports was hopping. Every light blazed on the production floor and through the skylights I could see at least three fork lifts busily unloading trucks. It was a sight to behold.
The flats taken off the trucks contained a lot of old metal junk, broken lamps, wire, silverware and recycled cans. These flats were taken to a device in the center of the floor where they were bathed in a glowing red light. After the light dimmed, each of the flats of junk were laden with similar objects, but a soft yellow glow played off of them.
"Is he turning junk into gold?" I wondered.
I crept through the skylight and onto an abandoned catwalk, where the brewmasters of old had strode . As I made my silent path along the walkway, I heard the creaking of distressed metal and felt the floor give out from under me. I dropped unceremoniously to the concrete floor below.
"Hey boss, we got a snooper," I heard as I tried to get to my feet. I looked to the right, and into the sinister eyes of the man at the museum.
"Well don't just stand there," he said. "Get her!"
At once I felt three pairs of arms dropping me to the floor in a tackle that would have made the Cobra's coaches happy. I managed to shake one off and struggled to my knees when I saw the sinister man approach. He was dressed in a red tunic with dark pants and boots. A heavy gold pendant hung around his neck.
"I am Sean Miribilis," he said. "You may call me the Alchemist. But not for much longer."
He touched me with a piece of black stone and I felt my arm grow numb. Looking at it, I saw my skin taking on a golden sheen. "NO!" I cried, only to hear it swallowed up as my entire form gilded.
True to his promise, Giovanni Cafazzo was out on bail less than two hours after I had brought him in. The grand jury stalled on charges, and the police were reluctant to charge him with my attempted murder, though the videos indicated malice and not just self defense.
But the Cafazzo mob's books were studied carefully, and slowly Queen City began to move toward legal order. The District Attorney, Rebecca Pettingill, worked hand in glove with Captain Linseed and Sgt. Winslow's hand picked squads to round up and charge the higher-ups in Cafazzo's gang. And in order to avoid lengthy sentences themselves, several of them sold out their boss.
Cafazzo spent Thanksgiving in the county jail. He had been arrested three days earlier and denied bail, as it was felt he was a flight risk. The confident gang boss smiled for the press as he did his perp walk, but Sgt. Winslow assured me that he broke down and cried as he exchanged his Armani suit for the jail's orange jumpsuit.
In the weeks leading to Thanksgiving, though; I was busy settling into my new work as archaeologist in residence at the Queen City Museum of Natural History. I had a small office and lab, but I also was expected to offer tours and special lectures. And since this was a small museum, I was also responsible for overseeing several exhibits, including the traveling shows.
I had been working late at night in the days leading up to Thanksgiving, giving a lot of time to my museum duties and spending less time as White Owl. We had a big exhibit starting after Thanksgiving on the history of science. I'd been busy making sure all the elements were in a proper sequence, including the "pseudo science" side exhibits. On Tuesday night, I finished early and was headed out into the city for a patrol, when the curator stopped me.
"You're an expert on numismatics aren't you Ms. Nikos?" he asked. I cringed. Ravi Shakimar was a fussy man; diligent in his work but demanding the same of his co-workers. Technically I didn't report to him, but as the curator, he had a lot of pull over my funding.
"Well," I began. There's a much better coin expert in Megapolis."
"I'm aware of her, but you're here and she's not," he said in his clipped accent. He spun a coin at me, and without thinking I plucked from the air like a slow fly ball. I studied it carefully.
"It's a fake," I declared out of hand.
"Its far too shiny for something," I paused and glanced again, "from the thirteenth century. I think it's supposed to be English?"
"According to the show documents, it's a coin Roger Bacon had in his possession at the time of his death. According to the documents, it's passed through the hands of Agrippa, Paracelcus and even John Dee." Shakimar scowled.
"I agree the authenticity seems a little odd. But we know of many heirlooms that have passed along through the ages like that. Just none in this exquisite condition. Do the show documents indicate it's a model or reproduction?"
Shakimar shook his head. "No, it's passed as authentic. Moreover, it passes muster for the gold weight inside, and our own tests indicate the age as correct."
"Well if you want my opinion, display it. Let the audience draw their own conclusions."
Shakimar frowned. "I hate to do it, but all right. Still I'd feel better if I knew some more about it." He looked at me almost apologetically. "Would you be willing to contact the show's producer tomorrow? I'd do it myself, but I'm heading to Hub City for my family's Thanksgiving. Thank you!" He shoved a phone number at me, and slipped through the revolving doors without a backward glance.
"Of all the arrogance," I thought. I studied the coin again. The minting was definitely crude, but the coin resembled an English coin of the thirteenth century. Something was wrong though.
I sighed and went back to my little office, where I pulled up a catalog of historic coinage and began browsing. An hour later, I had found something similar to Bacon's coin. But it had been a copper shilling, not a gold coin. "Curiouser and curiouser," I mused.
I turned to the literature that had come with the show and quickly found the description of the item at hand. According to the show's literature, the coin actually WAS a copper shilling. "So how did you turn to gold?" I asked the coin.
I went out for the night after that. The bus to my new apartment wouldn't be coming for another hour, so I slipped into my White Owl togs and flew across the city for a one loop before going to bed. The November air was cold and slightly moist, and I shivered in the breeze. I was going to have to speak with Mr Wickersham about the possibility of a cold weather outfit.
I stepped onto the balcony of my fourth floor "penthouse" and slipped into my apartment. Daisy meowed and greeted me, then ran to the kitchen where her bowl sat empty. I smiled and followed her in, then opened a can of food and gave ti to her. I watched while she gobbled greedily; then we both went to bed.
The next morning, I called Allied Shows, and asked about the exhibit. The director assured me there were no gold coins, thirteenth century or otherwise in the exhibit, and I believed him. On my lunch break, I went to the loading area and found Malcom. The loading dock foreman remembered the trucks and told me. "They were local, Ms Nikos. Belonged to Sean Miribilis Shipping. That's a new one to me, " he said.
I nodded and headed back to my office. A few minutes later I was connected to the answering service of Sean Miribilis Shipping, Importing and Exporting Global, Inc. The recording told me politely that the company was closed through the weekend and would reopen Monday.
I finished up early, and went to my Papa's house for the night. Thanksgiving is a major holiday in the Nikos household, and we all felt very thankful. We went to a Wednesday Mass, then came home for a night of conversation and preparation. Diana was home, and Alex had brought Beth with him. The three of us spent time in the kitchen putting together the turkey, stuffing and pies, and chattering like old friends.
Thanksgiving dinner was joyous, made moreso by Alex's announcement that he and Beth would move in with Papa after the wedding. The family ate, drank and sang late into the night. After dinner, Diana and I stayed in the kitchen with Papa as we all did dishes. Alex and Beth spent some time on the couch watching football and planning their wedding. I wasn't too sure of how much of either got done.
"So Diana, you like the school, heh?" asked Papa.
Diana beamed, her blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, Papa. It's fantastic. The classes are wonderful and the boys are all so cute." She smiled.
Papa mimicked a heart attack. "She spends all my money at this university, and all she can talk about is boys? I can't believe it!" He tossed his washrag into the sink and stalked out in a mock fury.
We waited until he was done rumbling and sitting in his recliner before we both burst out giggling. "I can't believe you went through with it Diana," I said.
She grinned. "Well I had to give him something. And the boys ARE cute. Especially one."
"Oh, who might that be?" I asked.
"Rick Linseed. He's a receiver for Zenith's football team, and has had teams scouting him to go professional. And he's a local boy too. His father was just made acting police chief."
I dropped the butter knife. Rick's father was Winslow's superior officer, and had gotten his promotion in part due to White Owl's involvement. I decided not to tell Diana that part.
"So I won't be seeing him this weekend, Athena. And you have a new job too. So what's a girl to do with herself tomorrow?"
"Well you could hit the stores early, then stop by the museum for lunch," I suggested.
Diana smiled. "I'd like that."
By the time lunch rolled around on Friday, I had been on the phone with the import company's recording again, and done about two dozen small tasks that needed attending before the doors opened. There are always large crowds at any new show, and this was no exception.
The morning passed without incident though, and I met Diana for a nice lunch at the cafeteria. She'd been shopping, and was particularly pleased with all the Christmas gifts she'd found. "I especially think you'll like yours Athena," she pronounced.
Diana stayed for the tour, then said, "I need to get home." I waved and went back to the show. The last tour started, and I spotted a man in a jacket that read "Sean Miribilis Imports and Exports." Intrigued, I followed him at a discreet distance. He turned into the Alchemy side exhibit and paused at the case where we'd displayed the coin.
At that moment, I was bumped, and turned to apologise. The man said it was his fault, and I turned back toward the case. The man in the Sean Miribilis jacket was gone. I looked at the case and the coin was there, though now it was dingy and green as though it were made of copper several centuries old. The case had a fine mist on the inside too. It was as if there had been an atmospheric change.
I moved through the crowd, trying to find the man, and saw him slipping away at the door. He disappeared into the dark twilight though and I was stopped at the entry by Ravi Shakimar.
"Oh you're not leaving are you Athena?" he asked, tapping his watch.
I nodded. "Yes, tonight I have an appointment, Ravi. I'll see you Monday." He gave me a disapproving look, but I pushed past him and into the parking lot. The man in the jacket was gone though.
I came back through the revolving doors and slipped away to my office. I grabbed my bag and my coat, then went back out and caught a taxi to my apartment. Daisy yowled, and I fed her; then slipped into my uniform once more. I cinched the weapons belt tight around my waist then leapt from the deck into the cold air.
From my numerous calls, I remembered the location of the Mirabilis import company; a small building in German Park. I flew downtown, then headed into the former brewery area of Queen City. Mirabilis had set up in an old brew house, and I landed quietly and carefully on the roof.
For a place that was supposedly closed for the holidays, Miribilis Imports was hopping. Every light blazed on the production floor and through the skylights I could see at least three fork lifts busily unloading trucks. It was a sight to behold.
The flats taken off the trucks contained a lot of old metal junk, broken lamps, wire, silverware and recycled cans. These flats were taken to a device in the center of the floor where they were bathed in a glowing red light. After the light dimmed, each of the flats of junk were laden with similar objects, but a soft yellow glow played off of them.
"Is he turning junk into gold?" I wondered.
I crept through the skylight and onto an abandoned catwalk, where the brewmasters of old had strode . As I made my silent path along the walkway, I heard the creaking of distressed metal and felt the floor give out from under me. I dropped unceremoniously to the concrete floor below.
"Hey boss, we got a snooper," I heard as I tried to get to my feet. I looked to the right, and into the sinister eyes of the man at the museum.
"Well don't just stand there," he said. "Get her!"
At once I felt three pairs of arms dropping me to the floor in a tackle that would have made the Cobra's coaches happy. I managed to shake one off and struggled to my knees when I saw the sinister man approach. He was dressed in a red tunic with dark pants and boots. A heavy gold pendant hung around his neck.
"I am Sean Miribilis," he said. "You may call me the Alchemist. But not for much longer."
He touched me with a piece of black stone and I felt my arm grow numb. Looking at it, I saw my skin taking on a golden sheen. "NO!" I cried, only to hear it swallowed up as my entire form gilded.
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