Echoes Through the Mist: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 1)

by K. Francis Ryan

  “After supper I will make up the extra room while you confer with the professor,” she continued. “Do not keep him up late. We all have much to do before we can be off. I do not want him getting cranky for lack of sleep.”

  “But where are we going and when?” Julian asked with a look of feigned innocence.

  Mrs. Bragonier tilted her head back so she could more easily look down her nose at Julian. She pressed her lips together and snorted lightly. “As you well know, we leave the day after tomorrow. We are going to Cappel Vale of course and your cave full of age-old coins and death.”

  ***

  Over dinner, the professor talked excitedly and non-stop about his suspicions and theories. He was forming a working hypothesis and it was leading him to ever more thrilling vistas.

  His wife hid behind a secret smile. She loved to see her husband animated by his subject and she had never seen him so vibrant. But it was Julian she regarded now.

  He had matured during his stay in Ireland but there was more. He had developed a truer sense of himself. And he was in love, of that she was sure. He had tried to keep her away from that part, but it was there and it was healthy and strong.

  “Look at him,” she thought to herself. “He is smitten beyond words. New love is really a wonder to observe. Looking at him I can nearly remember when I first fell in love with Reginald.”

  “I’m sure he was a fine figure of a man,” Julian said and Bridget Bragonier looked up suddenly and the smile fled from her lips.

  “What did you say my boy?” the professor asked.

  “Oh, nothing, please continue Professor,” Julian said without taking his eyes off of Bridget.

  “Well as I was saying that in AD 100, Rome was…” and with that, Professor Bragonier carried on talking and warmed to his subject with each passing word.

  “You are a clever boy,” Bridget thought and Julian responded, “Not really. I have a number of delightful parlor tricks. Would you like to see more? I can bend spoons.”

  “Do not think to play the fool with me,” Bridget thought.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help it. My teacher likes to say she has discovered my true calling. I’m an eejit, you see. Not much to it really. I can’t read minds, but I can sense thoughts sometimes. As talents go, it is pretty useless, but there you have it. Now if I were really clever I could tell you your thoughts before you thought them. I’m afraid I don’t have the genes for it though. You see, I am not the one with the Sight,” Julian thought.

  “You know nothing of the Sight, but let us leave that. What time do we leave for your village?” Bridget asked wordlessly.

  “The professor needs to arrange for a substitute at the university and I have some business to conduct so as you said earlier, the day after tomorrow will do perfectly – perhaps first thing in the morning?”

  “The professor will want to leave the moment he secures that substitute, but I suggest you put him off,” Bridget thought.

  “Whatever pleases you, Bridget.”

  “It would please me to punish soundly all cheeky Americans who go around terrifying old women,” the professor’s wife thought and looked cross.

  Julian smiled. “There really is no sense being that way about it. Do you remember when I first met you in that park in New York? Well, you didn’t bother with a warning before you defibrillated me. After all, what is a little electrocution between friends, eh? Oh, and when you sent thoughts into the head of a man who was already hearing voices – who was terrified then? You didn’t seem to mind it though.”

  A smile pulled at one corner of Bridget’s mouth. “I will have to pay a great deal more attention to the likes of you, Julian Blessing.”

  “And being with the likes of you, dearest Bridget, I can tell you, I have no choice but to pay attention,” Julian responded.

  ***

  The next morning, Julian walked with the professor back to Trinity where they parted after making plans to meet for lunch. Julian’s business necessitated a number of stops so he was late returning. Because of it, the professor seemed wound up entirely too tightly.

  “Time is wasting, my boy. We must be off. I’ve seen to everything and I am keen as mustard to get to the site.”

  “Professor, I suggest we have a pleasant lunch then you go home and pack. First thing in the morning we’ll be on the road. That will put us into the village well before noon.” Although Julian tried, calming the professor was not going easily or well.

  “Patience is a virtue I do not have, Blessing. Why can’t we be off this afternoon – right now in fact?”

  “We are not leaving before tomorrow because I have a few things left to do and your wife will not hear of it. Haven’t you dug yourself a deep enough hole on that front?”

  “I suppose so. Witched unto death! And you don’t fool me. You’re no better!” the professor said with an all-encompassing harrumph.

  After lunch, Julian went to work on Ailís’s list of supplies. He was careful to get all of the items she said she wanted and more. He felt good about fulfilling her wish list and knew she would be pleased to have the goods and equipment needed to update her surgery.

  The most fragile items he had packaged so he could carry them back himself. Transportation was arranged for the larger pieces.

  Julian purchased supplies for the school and some items for Father Fahey even though no one had asked for anything. For Sisters Eugenia and Gertrude he found some expensive tea. He doubled that order and included the Hackett twins.

  He picked up some things for Sean at a police supply store and found something special for the Maher children along with pounds of candy for the rest of the village children. He stopped long enough to select something special for Ailís and Timothy. That alone left him smiling for the remainder of the afternoon.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  They made good speed on the northbound M1. The professor was like a child – full of excitement and impatience. Bridget looked pensive while Julian was just glad to be on his way home.

  ***

  In the village children played, dogs barked, cats patrolled the yards and geese floated in tight formation on the pond beside the police station. Before they got out of the car, Mrs. Bragonier turned in her seat. She touched her husband’s sleeve while she reached out and took Julian’s hand in hers. She looked grave.

  “You know me well enough to understand when I am serious. I am warning you both – say nothing about the professor’s business here. We are friends you met up with again in Dublin and you invited us here to the village for a little holiday. Do you understand me, Julian?”

  “Yes, Bridget, but...”

  “That you understand is enough. I will explain later. Reginald, do you understand what I am saying to you? You will hike around some, but for the most part, you plan on taking your leisure. Not one word are you to mention about your Romans. I know it will be hard for you to restrain yourself, but it is important, vitally important. Do you understand Reginald?”

  “Yes my dear, not a word.”

  “There is more at stake here than either of you realize.” Bridget smiled and continued. “Now let us all look happy. We are here on holiday, so we are to be the soul of wit, charm and good grace. Now, shall we?”

  ***

  The village children approached the car with trepidation until they saw Julian, then they swarmed round the vehicle with shouts and squeals. As if on cue, runners detached themselves from the crowd and circulated the news. Mr. Julian had returned.

  Sean Maher was the first to arrive and he clasped Julian’s hand and shook it with painful vehemence. Sean was being introduced to the Bragoniers when Thomas Cahill materialized decked out with his mayoral sash and received his introduction to the Professor and Mrs. Bragonier.

  The entire village gathered around Julian and the newcomers and Julian shook hands and murmured greetings, but he never took his eyes off Ailís Dwyer who was standing on her front porch looking at him with a sly smile.

  He
watched as she descended the stairs and walked slowly toward the tight cluster of villagers. At her approach, the general chaos of the crowd ratcheted down and a path formed that took her to the heart of the mob.

  Julian introduced the doctor to his friends. Ailís nodded respectfully and extended her hand. It was first taken up by the professor who beamed. Next, Bridget took the doctor’s hand. The smile faded slightly on Ailís’s lips, and she paled trying to pull her hand away.

  The older woman held on and a smile started at the corners of Bridget’s eyes and spread gradually to her lips. Soon Ailís was smiling too and seemed quite at ease as if a soft warm light had suddenly bathed the scene. The spell was broken when Bridget looked into Julian’s eyes and her smile turned to a smirk. Ailís didn’t understand the look and also turned to stare at Julian.

  He just shrugged and tried to look innocent. It wasn’t working.

  “Well, we should get your things into the station,” Julian said.

  “What? What do you mean by that, Julian Blessing?” Ailís demanded. “Surely you wouldn’t think of putting your friends up in such a place.” Ailís turned to the Bragoniers. “You’ll stay with my son Timothy and me.” Ailís called Timothy and Brendan Maher and instructed them where to put the Bragoniers’ bags.

  The crowd began to break up and go about their business with calls of “Welcome home” being shouted to Julian. In the important ways, he felt like he really was home.

  ***

  Dinner at Ailís’s was a simple meal as it always was – vegetables, lamb, soda bread and a generous pot of tea. It was hot, hearty and filling. The professor’s plate had to be filled several times before he gave over. He held forth that there was something about the country air that gave a man a larger appetite, but of coins and swords and Romans there was no mention.

  The table was cleared, the dishes washed and put away. It was still early evening. Bridget instructed Julian and her husband to go to one of the pubs for a pint. She and Ailís, she declared, were going for a walk.

  During their slow stroll around the village, the two women talked about life in Dublin and how the country had its advantages and disadvantages. Mostly they talked of nothing at all. Random thoughts entered fleetingly and escaped moments before another thought arrived. They talked and laughed, reminisced and commiserated, agreed and disagreed. Ailís felt a level of comfort with Bridget that usually took years to form. Their friendship was being shaped with each step she and Bridget took.

  They had nearly reached St. Michael’s church when Bridget stopped. “I must leave you here, my dear,” she said.

  Ailís looked puzzled. “Here?” she asked. “Oh, do you know Moira Hagan?”

  “No, but as you and I can attest, it is never overly difficult to make new friends.”

  “But...”

  “No need to fear. I will be fine and so will you since you have that chaperone along to safeguard you,” Bridget said and smiled.

  “Chaperone?” Ailís asked.

  “Yes. On my, you did not know? Come here young man,” Bridget commanded and Jimmy Grogan emerged out of the shadows.

  Ailís began to sputter and Jimmy tried to explain, but Bridget Bragonier held up a long thin finger to silence them both. She leaned in close to Ailís and said, “Julian asked the boy to keep an eye on you. As a man desperately in love, Julian is inordinately concerned with your safety. Mind you, he has every reason to be, but still there you have it.”

  Ailís was glad it was a dark night since she could feel her face becoming flaming hot. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Julian and I are good friends and he has no right to...”

  “To be sure he has no right, but he does feel he has a responsibility. You see, Doctor, he feels he brought trouble to the village even though he did not. However, he now feels it is his duty to assure the safety of all its inhabitants,” Bridget said.

  “As far as it goes that seems reasonable.” The older woman looked thoughtful. “But it all comes off the rails regarding you. You see he treasures you above his own life, but then you know that. You knew it well before he made love with you.”

  “But...”

  “Do not trouble yourself, my dear. I know the truth of it and so do you. Your protestations, that you and he are just good friends, although valiant, are so much silliness. You agree of course. If it makes you feel better, Julian gave it a go too. Sadly, it did not work for him either, although he too still tries to maintain the façade. I am, you see, not got around so easily as that,” Bridget said and smiled.

  Ailís would have been content to simply dig a hole and disappear, but Bridget pitied the doctor and spared her the need saying, “Now run along and take your chaperone with you. Should my husband inquire, please tell him I am visiting someone.

  He will understand and will not bother you with pesky questions.” Bridget’s smile was broad and knowing and her eyes were alive with mischief before she turned serious as Ailís moved off, followed quickly by Jimmy Grogan.

  Bridget walked up the crooked path to Moira Hagan’s front door. There was no need to knock. The door was opened as she approached. Bridget simply stepped inside.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  In the morning, Julian appeared with Brendan Maher in tow. Collecting the professor, the three set off back toward the thick growth of trees at the northwest end of the village. They walked along the edge of the tree line until Julian felt sure they were not being watched or followed.

  When he thought the time was right he stopped, surveyed the village and backed up with slow steps. The three hikers melted into the forest and were gone.

  Half way to the cave, Julian left Brendan to act as their rear guard. The professor and Julian continued on over the rock-strewn path with the trees towering above them.

  At the foot of the mountain where a clear stream passed through on its way to the sea, the two men stopped.

  “Is it very far?” the professor wheezed.

  “We are only moments away.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  “We have a bit of a climb and I want you well rested when we arrive. It is a sight that will take your breath away, Professor.”

  The old man grinned like a schoolboy.

  Once rested, the men began to climb the mountain. With each step, the view became more spectacular as more of the Irish Sea revealed itself.

  Julian stopped and indicated the mountainside. The professor studied the slopes and smiled when he made out how the cave entrance had been camouflaged.

  “Follow me, but watch your step,” Julian said and together they slipped behind the blind of bushes and into the cave. Once inside Julian secured the bushes from the inside. The men continued down the passageway until they entered the rotunda. Julian removed his pack and began to set up battery-powered lights. It wasn’t much illumination, but it was enough to triple the ambient light.

  Professor Bragonier continued blinking until his eyes adjusted to the dim light. A sense of wonder began to animate his features as first one detail, and then another became clear. In each moment, he saw a miracle. Thoughts coursed through his brain like a swarm of angry bees. He slowly walked the perimeter of the room. Notebook in hand he entered his observations with an excited hand.

  The professor lost track of time and so was surprised when Julian touched him on the shoulder and announced lunch was ready.

  The two men settled themselves and Julian distributed sandwiches and cold tea. The professor ate out of habit, lost now in thought while Julian watched him.

  “How would you value this find?” Julian asked as he and the professor sat around the cold fire pit.

  “Value? You must be joking. It is priceless. What you have here is easily one of the most important discoveries in Irish history. This is the sort of wealth it would take to operate a whole Roman army in the field, not just a legion or two.

  “No doubt about that. But had there been a Roman force anywhere on this island, especially one of this si
ze, we would have found evidence by now. That sort of thing can’t be hidden. What is valuable here are the answers we shall find.

  Julian said, “So, what are we left with, Professor?”

  “We do have one piece of the puzzle. It comes to us in a fragment from the historian, orator and general gadfly, Caius Rufus,” the professor answered. “Caius tells a brief story. Sixty-nine, C.E. was the year of the four emperors. Galba is murdered by Otho. Otho commits suicide – assisted of course – and is succeeded by Vitellius who is murdered in the Forum by Vespasian’s men, whereupon Vespasian becomes the last man standing and thus Emperor. It was a busy, but not especially lucky year for most emperors.

  “Anyway, Caius Rufus mentions a slight problem. It seems a ship set sail from Ostia, the main port city of Rome, with a payroll for the legions stationed in Roman Briton,” the professor lectured.

  “But the ship never made it,” Julian added. He was distracted as images came unbidden, soul shredding, painful images.

  “Exactly, my boy. Caius mentioned strong seas and the possibility of the ship being swamped and sunk. But there is more in his text and it is far subtler.

  “He was careful not to say it in so many words but he hints at the likelihood the legionaries chosen to escort the shipment were not overly taken with Vespasian. More to the point, they were still faithful to dead but not forgotten Vitellius.”

  “Our reporter, Caius, says no more about that but inserts what seems like a random fact.” The professor continued, “He tells us several cohorts of Legio XX – the Twentieth Legion – were removed from Britannia on the quiet for a time.

  “You can see how all of this disappearing payroll business would make the escort much sought after and very unpopular. One couldn’t go far wrong postulating the Twentieth Legion was sent out to find and return their brother legionaries and the payroll.