by Donna Doyle
"P-P-Pilgrim's Progress?" Hierro Glyphen began to cough and choke and beat his chest vehemently to get some air.
Molly Gertrude looked at Dora with some alarm. "Could you please get the man some water, dear?"
Dora jumped up and ran over to a small faucet in the corner of the curator's office.
"It-It's all right," Glyphen mumbled, his face a little red. "I am fine again. Just got something stuck in my windpipe."
Dora still filled up a plastic cup with water and carried it to the man. "Just take a sip, Mr. Glyphen. It will give you relief."
"Thanks," Glyphen squeaked, and gobbled up the water in one gulp. After he put the cup down again he let out a sigh. "A book that old… that would be a real jewel, a prize for any museum."
"But would it have any real financial value?" Molly Gertrude insisted.
Glyphen gave her a small nod. "Could be. As I said, it would depend on the condition, but I would estimate such a book would easily go for a few hundred thousand dollars. Maybe even more."
Molly Gertrude's mouth fell open and Dora let out a shriek. "That much," Molly Gertrude whispered.
Hierro Glyphen shook his head and waved both of his hands in objection. "It would, Miss Gertrude, but who cares about the money. There's so much more at stake than just dollars." He stroked his throat and grimaced. "All the world is interested in is money. Today's society is just about gain, success, profit and wealth. People don't recognize true value." He leaned back and pointed to the door that led back into the museum. "The paintings, the statues and the amazing artifacts we house here… they are filled with secrets. They are, in a sense, our forefathers. They are the rock from which we are hewn, they cry out their wonders to a generation that is only interested in the digital realities, meaningless thrills like drugs, cheap sex, and lots and lots of money." He narrowed his eyes into tiny slits and added, "I hope you are not one of such pleasure-seekers, Miss Grey."
Molly Gertrude couldn't help but chuckle. "No, Mr. Glyphen, I can assure you I am not. My thrills consist mostly of solving mysteries, which is really the reason I am sitting here before you."
"Good," Hierro Glyphen muttered. "People don't know any more what true beauty is. They are careless, and treat the real treasures of this world without respect." He tilted his head, and waited for Molly Gertrude to continue. Molly Gertrude turned to Papa Julian and raised her brows. "Tell him, Papa Julian."
The pastor cleared his throat. "I had such a book, Mr. Glyphen. I had stored it in the church in a box to prevent it from being eaten by time, humidity and varmints. But somebody broke into the church and stole it."
Hierro Glyphen's face paled. "Th-That is terrible."
"It is," Papa Julian added. "We think somebody stole it and wants to sell it."
"What is this world coming to," Glyphen howled. "Just as I said. People only think of their material gain." His eyes looked like those of a puppy that had been scolded by its master for chewing on a computer cord. He thought for a moment and then added, "Of course, keeping such a valuable item stored in a wooden box down in the basement of your church, won't help the world much either, as nobody can see it there." He rubbed his nose and while he peered at Papa Julian, he added, "If we recover the book, would you consider placing it in Greenacre Museum? It would be a real asset to the museum."
Papa Julian's shoulders sagged. "Right now I don't have the book, Mr. Glyphen, so it will be hard to make such promises."
Hierro Glyphen gave him a small nod and pressed his lips together. "I understand, Pastor." He turned his attention back to Molly Gertrude. "What can I do? I'll do anything to help you to get your book back."
Molly Gertrude sighed. "Right now, not much, Mr. Hierro. We just wanted to know if such a book is indeed worth something. Now we know."
"Actually, I have a question," Dora said.
Glyphen looked up. "Shoot."
"Did you ever hear of Sharlan Tan?"
Glyphen pressed his lips together in a slight grimace. "Eh… it doesn't ring a bell. Is that some sort of protective sunscreen lotion?"
"He's a man," Papa Julian said while he wrinkled his nose. "A very strange man and we have reason to believe he may have stolen my book."
Glyphen's eyes widened. "Then you should go and see JJ Barnes,"
"We did, Mr. Glyphen," Molly Gertrude spoke up. "But for now Mr. Barnes is unable to take action, so we’ll do a bit of snooping around ourselves."
"Oh?" Glyphen said, and he tilted his head. "Any success?"
Molly Gertrude chuckled. "I am sure we'll get to the truth, Mr. Glyphen. We are not planning to let the thief go unpunished."
"You are rather confident," Glyphen spoke through pursed lips. "Maybe this thief is very cunning, and he may even be smarter than you."
"Maybe," Molly Gertrude replied, "that's not all that hard, Mr. Glyphen. I am an old lady, but I know for a fact that whoever he is, he is not smarter than God, and God is the One I rely on."
"So does Sharlan Tan, Miss Gertrude."
A shock coursed through Molly Gertrude's body. "What did you say, Mr. Glyphen? I thought you said you did not know Sharlan Tan?"
Glyphen refused to look at Molly Gertrude and rubbed his brow. "Just remembered," he mumbled. "I didn't realize you were talking about that new prophet that came to town. You see, one of my co-workers just asked me advice on a good sun-screen lotion with a high SPF, so when I heard the word Sharlan Tan, my mind just automatically assumed you were talking about such things." He grimaced and his nose twitched violently. "Of course, now I understand you were actually asking about the man."
"I see," Molly Gertrude passed her hand over her face and looked puzzled. "So you do know Sharlan Tan?"
"Knowing is a big word," Glyphen muttered. "Like you, he claims he relies on God. But I think he's some sort of prophet. When he came into my office, I thought he was a priest or something. We talked a bit."
"He came to your office?"
"Yeah, he did." Hierro Glyphen squeezed his cheeks with the fingers of his right hand. "Sorry about the misunderstanding." He shook his head in disgust. "The mind is a strange computer, isn't it?" He looked up hoping to get the approval of his three visitors, but they all stared at him with questioning eyes.
"So, when did he visit your office?" Molly Gertrude asked.
"Well… eh, a few days ago." Hierro Glyphen's face darkened.
"And?" Molly Gertrude asked.
"And what?"
"What did he say?"
The question seemed to disconcert Glyphen, and his breath became labored. "Nothing serious. We just chatted a bit. That's all."
"I am sure he did not come to drink tea," Papa Julian insisted. "What did he want to talk to you about?"
Glyphen looked down and fumbled with a pen on his desk. "He said he was raising money for the erection of an enormous cathedral in honor of God. He asked if I wanted to donate a painting, so the proceeds could go to the good cause."
"He asked you that?"
The curator gave a short nod. "He did, but of course I told him no. I could not possibly consent to such a request. These paintings are not mine to give, even if I would have wanted to." He thought about it for a moment and then added, "He's a little strange though. He told me he's staying in a trailer on the outskirts of town. Why would he be living in a trailer? Seems to me, if he's really that important, he should be staying in a hotel."
Papa Julian grimaced. "Maybe he's trying to show how humble he is. After all, our Savior lived in a stable for some time too."
"Did you talk about anything else?" Molly Gertrude asked.
Glyphen smacked his lips. "Nah. As I said, we had a friendly chat. We talked about paintings and statues. He wanted to know about the prices of old artifacts, and asked me where you could find buyers for old things that actually belong in a museum. He said he occasionally bumps into old artifacts that he wants to sell to raise more money for his cause."
Molly Gertrude gave him an incredulous stare. "Go on."
&n
bsp; "That's it. There's nothing more. I told him I did not know where you could sell such things. I suggested eBay, but he didn't seem to like that idea. Then he told me he was a prophet, and he gave me a flyer. Some sort of invitation to an open-air meeting he's holding."
He leaned forward and pulled out a grubby piece of paper from under a stack of folders on his desk. "Here it is." He handed the paper to Molly Gertrude. "You can have it."
Molly Gertrude wrinkled her nose. "Thank you, Mr. Glyphen. I don't need it."
Glyphen stared blankly at the paper in his own hand, and put it down again. "Sure, Miss Gertrude. But that's all I know. Honest to God."
"So, did you go to his meeting last night?"
Hierro Glyphen shook his head in a determined way. "Of course not. I already told you, I don't need it. I am not a religious man, Miss Grey. I have no time. I am too busy taking care of my children."
Molly Gertrude frowned. "I didn't know you had any children, Mr. Glyphen.
A small smile appeared on Glyphen's face. "My paintings, my vases, my statues… those are my children, Miss Grey. They take a lot of time, but then again, you wouldn't understand that."
Molly Gertrude smacked her lips. "I do, Mr. Glyphen. Old, classical things are your life. I must say, it's your passion, and these things mean the world to you."
Hierro Glyphen nodded in agreement and sighed. "It's true, Miss Grey. Some people just don't know the meaning of real value." He looked up and concern flashed in his eyes. "Imagine, people just buy and sell paintings, relics, vases… anything, as long as it fills up their pocketbook. But they don't sense the spirit of the ages that lies hidden in between the stone, the paint or the wood." For a moment it almost looked as if he was going to cry. "We need to preserve the true value on this planet, and not let people like Sharlan Tan have his way."
Molly Gertrude chuckled. "That's another thing I can understand." She thought some more about what Mr. Glyphen had said, and then cast him a polite smile. "I guess that just about wraps it all up," she said. "Thank you, Mr. Glyphen." She turned her head and looked at her companions. "Shall we go?"
Papa Julian nodded. "Sounds good, Miss Molly Gertrude. Thank you for your time, Mr. Glyphen," he said. "You've been indeed most helpful."
"It's nothing," Glyphen said, and he forced a concerned look on his face. "Any time you want my expertise about such things you are most welcome. And please, keep me informed." He shook his head again in dismay and mumbled barely audible, "Such a dreadful crime. How horrible."
Molly Gertrude pushed her chair away and got up. Papa Julian rushed over to support her and the three of them left Hierro Glyphen's office.
When they stepped out of the museum into the adjoining garden a gentle wind ruffled their hair, and Molly Gertrude heaved a sigh of relief. "What a stuffy office," she mumbled. "Everything in there smells about 5000 years old."
"Welcome to the world of the old, stuffy historians," Dora said with a grin.
"Still, I think he's a strange man," Molly Gertrude whispered, " and that's not because he's a stuffy historian. There's something wrong about that man."
"Come on," Miss Molly Gertrude," Dora quizzed. "He seems all right to me. Sure, he's a bit strange, but I wonder what I would be like if I am surrounded daily by portraits of the Ram-headed god of the Nile, and paintings by some Italian painter from the Renaissance?"
Miss Molly Gertrude had to laugh, but she pushed the emotion away. "It's not that, Dora. He's hiding something. I just know it."
"What do we do now?" Papa Julian asked after Dora had driven them all back to the church and Bella had served them each a cup of raspberry tea. "To be honest, I do not even care all that much about that book. I am more concerned about the spiritual influence of Sharlan Tan on the good people of Calmhaven."
Molly Gertrude sipped at her tea and agreed. "He's a wolf in sheep's clothing."
"He's not interested in the spiritual health of the people," Dora added.
"And all he wants to do is to shear the sheep and take their wool," Bella said.
Papa Julian let out a frustrated sigh. "I know all that, but what can we do about it."
"If God be for us, who can be against us," Bella asserted. "We need to ask God to give us wisdom. These things are just too high for us."
Papa Julian cast his wife a grateful smile and nodded. "Thank you for reminding me, dear. At times, I can get so flustered, I even forget the most basic steps of spiritual warfare. Let us pray," he said.
"That's right," Molly agreed. "Let us finish our tea and pray."
Thus it happened that minutes later they fell down on their knees and appeared before the throne of heaven, asking for guidance and wisdom. Even Molly Gertrude, in spite of her arthritis and with the help of Dora, climbed out of her chair and knelt. Then, Papa Julian poured out his heart in a long and desperate prayer. It was so comforting to hear the pastor pray, as he spoke to God with such reverence and respect, while it was equally clear he truly was a friend of the Most High. How could God not honor such a sincere plea from one of His servants?
When Papa Julian was done, nobody dared to even move a muscle, as a wonderful gentle spirit of rest and assurance had come over them. They were steeped in a peace that passes all understanding and the true Shepherd had indeed led them to the green pastures, beside the still waters.
At last they opened their eyes, refreshed, invigorated and full of hope and vision.
"You will not have to fight this battle," Papa Julian was the first to speak, and he quoted a Bible passage. "Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them, and the Lord will be with you." *
"That means," he said, "we do not need to be afraid. We will have to go and see Sharlan Tan, and God will give us the victory."
Bella and Dora nodded enthusiastically, but Molly Gertrude began to feel quite uncomfortable. "Can somebody help me up," she pleaded. "My joints are not what they once were."
*2 Chronicles 20:17 NIV
Chapter Eight
Molly Gertrude had an idea.
After the encouraging verse Papa Julian had received in prayer, they all felt it was time to check out Sharlan Tan for themselves. They should go to Sharlan Tan's meeting. After all, wasn’t that what God had put on Papa Julian's heart? Go out and face them and be not afraid?
But Molly Gertrude had an unexpected idea. "Yes, somebody should go to the meeting, but how about if some of us snoop around Sharlan Tan's living quarters during the meeting. He's not going to be there, obviously, and who knows, maybe we will find something that will lead us to the stolen book."
"I-Isn't that illegal?" Bella asked, a little pale in the face.
"I am not planning to steal anything," Molly Gertrude replied. "Of course, if I find the stolen book I will take it back, but I doubt I will find it in his trailer, even if he has stolen it." There was a gleam in Molly Gertrude's eyes. "You don't have to do it, Bella. I think it would be best if you go with your husband to the meeting, and I take Dora with me."
A throaty, nervous laugh escaped from Dora's mouth. "It might be dangerous to go to his trailer."
Molly Gertrude nodded. "Maybe, but we are not supposed to cower in the face of danger. Wasn't it Napoleon Bonaparte who said, 'Victory belongs to the most persevering?' "
"Sure," Dora shot back, "he may have said that, but look where it got him, and he wasn't even a man of God."
"Precisely," Molly Gertrude said. "He couldn't count on God's help, but we can. And, I was thinking about asking asking that young deputy friend of yours to come along…" She let her voice trail off as she glanced at Dora.
Dora blushed and her mouth hung open. "D-Digby? You want him to come too?"
"Of course," Molly Gertrude sang. "You are right when you say it may be a bit dangerous, so it's always good to have the law on our side."
"You think he would even want to come?"
"Of course he will," Molly Gertrude snort
ed. "Every time we bump into that young man he seems to only see you, Dora. It's my hunch, he'll be overjoyed to watch over you on such a mission."
Dora was won over. A victorious smile had replaced the dark doubts that had flashed over her face only minutes earlier. "I'll call him right away," she said, as she pulled out her mobile phone.
Molly Gertrude had been right as far as Deputy Digby was concerned. He was overjoyed with the prospect of accompanying Dora and Molly Gertrude on their quest, and since he was not on duty that evening, the young man with the boyish grin and the blond curls arrived right on time at the house of Papa Julian, where Dora filled him in on what was happening.
When he heard about Sharlan Tan's antics and what Papa Julian thought of him, he shook his head in disgust and his eyes turned cold. "I don't see what JJ Barnes even sees in him. Imagine that, he even bought one of those silly cardboard papers. He called it his Isaiah-seed, or something like that."
Dora chuckled, and while she wrinkled her nose she said, "I know. He told us. It only cost him $100."
Molly Gertrude overheard them, and a grave expression covered her face. "Don't underestimate the charm and the hypnotic power some people seem to have over others. It's always a mistake to underestimate the enemy. What's more, I think we are dealing with the powers of darkness, and if we are not vigilant and sober, we may fall for the deception of the devil as well."
Digby pressed his lips together and gave her a short nod. "You are right, Miss Molly Gertrude. It just seems so incomprehensible that someone as down to earth as JJ Barnes would fall for someone like Sharlan Tan. He's not even very religious."
"Sharlan Tan may be a crook, but he's not dumb and actually he is very cunning and clever." Molly Gertrude dry-washed her hands and looked at the clock. "We will go over to his place when the meeting has started. I hope that most or even all of his helpers are at the meeting as well so we have free sailing."