The Old Man's Request Read online

  “Wilson!” Mrs. Longborough shouted. She caught herself and regained her composure. “If your father wished this box to be passed to this young lady, so it shall be.”

  “Please, please everyone,” the priest said firmly, taking control of the conversation, “Mr. Longborough is still among us. He has faced crises such as this before, and will again. Let us come together and pray for him...”

  The assembled bowed their heads and joined the priest. A few minutes later, Dr. Lamb emerged from the room and announced that the patient had stabilized and was resting under observation. With that news, Wilson and his mother departed.

  Having completed his shift, Lamb invited Rykov and O’Malley to come to his home to discuss his patient’s story, and the three left together.

  ✦

  Harold Lamb’s house was a two-story Victorian structure, with a porch extending all the way around the first floor. The trip had been a silent one, in spite of Anna’s attempts at cheery conversation. Parking his car on Brown Street, the trio were in his living room twenty minutes after leaving the hospital. Now, reclining in an easy chair, Anna broke the silence.

  “Let us see what is in the box.”

  Anna unlocked the metal box with the key that the trustee had given her. Inside was a small, ornate, gold box. Along with the box were some papers, and another set of keys. While the anthropologist examined the box, O’Malley examined the papers.

  “This indeed is the deed to the farm in Stuckley,” the priest noted. “It appears that the property is owned by all five of the Cabal members.” He thought for a moment. “Jason would only have been able to pass on the farm to Anna if the others were already dead.”

  Anna recognized the runes that adorned the lid and sides. “The inscription is Glagolitic characters,” she said. “This box is from southern Russia before introduction of the Cyrillic alphabet, around the ninth century.”

  After looking over the ornate decoration on the outside of the box, she opened it. The lid was attached. It split down the center, and when the halves retracted into base, the bottom of the box raised up to the lip to reveal shards of small, translucent stone. As they were exposed to the light, the fragments reformed into a rough cube approximately one-quarter-inch in size. In the center of the cube were small bits of black material, which also merged together as she watched. She gasped.

  “That looks like amber,” the doctor said, noticing the contents of the box for the first time. “Prehistoric insects were trapped in tree sap and fossilized in it.”

  “It was in small pieces when I opened box,” Anna said with amazement. “They all came together in the light. The foreign material collected in the center.” the priest leaned in to examine the cube.

  “Curious,” he said.

  “I hope you weren’t serious about that occult nonsense,” the doctor said, noting the sense of awe and wonder that had overcome the others. “I have no qualms about humoring the poor old guy, but I’m not about to bathe in the blood of chickens or anything like that.”

  “Rupert said that all that is involved is an incantation,” Anna replied. She sat with the priest on a sofa adjacent to the doctor. “There is nothing scandalous in that. Besides, it will be out at a lonely farm near Stuckley. No one will see or hear anything.”

  “Harry,” Father O’Malley interjected, “if your reputation is a greater concern than your patient’s state of mind, it does not shine well on you.” His tone was derogatory, but diplomatic, and it succeeded in making the doctor reconsider. “There has been a lot of talk lately about patients with positive attitudes recovering faster.”

  “His condition is too fragile to overlook anything that might help,” Anna added, taking Lamb’s hand in hers. Father O’Malley threw in his most compassionate face.

  “This matter is clearly very important to him,” Dr. Lamb said after a moment of consideration. “If we can release him from this stressful situation, it might ease his conscience.” He looked at the pair on the sofa accusingly. “I’ll do it, but only for my patient’s sake.”

  “It’s settled then,” Anna declared with a smile. “We leave for the farm in the morning! I have no lectures tomorrow. I am free all day.”

  “Why not go now?” Dr. Lamb said unexpectedly. “The sooner we are done with this business the better. Besides, I won’t be getting much sleep until then.”

  “That’s the spirit,” the priest said with a smile. Grabbing a pair of flashlights, the trio was back on the road in minutes heading toward the sunset and Stuckley.

  CHAPTER 3

  June 19, 1929

  The ride to Stuckley was uneventful. They drove west at a quick pace. The road from Wellersburg was more or less straight through cornfields now bearing stalks reaching five or six feet tall. They arrived in the hamlet just as the sun set behind the hills further west.

  Stuckley was nothing more than a few houses and a general store where the road from Wellersburg met the Lassiter Road. The structures were old and run-down and there were no signs of life aside from the light on at the store.

  “I need to fill the tank,” Lamb said, stopping by the gas pump in front of the general store. “Why don’t you two get directions to the farm?” A sleepy-looking boy in worn overalls walked up to the driver’s side as Anna and O’Malley stepped out and wandered toward the store.

  The inside of the small store was much more hospitable with wares of recent manufacture and a soda machine in the corner. The man behind the counter was an older, rustic fellow, typical of the local folk, careful with his conversation and distrusting of strangers. Anna approached him with a smile.

  “Excuse me, sir. Can you direct us to the Whittaker Farm?” The man rankled when he heard Anna’s accent, but composed himself in front of the priest.

  “Whatcha wanna go there fer?” the man asked immediately.

  “A sick friend of ours inherited that property,” Anna replied, “and asked us to assess its condition as location for his recovery. He will be in bed for some time, and we want him to be comfortable.” Father O’Malley cast a suspicious glance at his colleague, but said nothing.

  “Tell’im to find someplace else.” He looked around the deserted store and leaned closer on the counter. O’Malley leaned as well. “That land is cursed. Nobody goes there. Not anymore.”

  “Why do you say that the farm is cursed?” O’Malley asked. The shopkeeper examined the priest and thought a moment before replying.

  “Nobody’s gone there in while. Ev’ry time somebody does, somethin’ dies!”

  “What do you mean?” Anna probed.

  “Whenever somebody goes to the Whittaker farm they finds a dead body. People, animals, always somethin’ dead.” Anna and O’Malley looked at each other.

  “When was the last time anyone was out there?” The priest was casual in his tone, but it was clear he took the local seriously. The shopkeeper was reassured.

  “There was some kind of a ruckus last spring,” he began in a subdued tone. “The sheriff’s men broke up some kinda college party.” He grew more animated. “There was booze and funny smoke... and a lotta dead chickens. They was bathin’ in the blood! Or so I heard.”

  “But no dead people were found,” Dr. Lamb said without any emotion. He had slipped into the store unnoticed. At the sound of his voice Rykov and O’Malley jumped. “Sorry,” he said.

  “No, there wasn’t no corpses ... ‘cept the chickens. They was scattered all over the place. Big mess. There was a lot of flies there for a long time. The smell and all.”

  “Swell,” Lamb said unenthusiastically. It was a fairly warm night, and the thought of swarms of flies made this pointless errand of theirs all the more unpleasant. “Let’s get this over with. Can you tell us how to get there?”

  “I s’pose you’ll find yer way there anyway.” The merchant gave him simple but clear directions. Lamb paid the man for the fuel plus a little extra, and followed his companions out.

  Once on the road the doctor laughed. “Can you believe that guy?” he chuckled. “That land is cursed,” he repeated, impersonating their informant.

  “People’s beliefs are their own business,” the priest chimed in disapprovingly. “What he expressed seemed genuine enough to me. And I know when people are being deceptive.”

  “Everything he told us is hearsay,” the anthropologist added. “We will see for ourselves. Most superstitions have less-than-supernatural explanations.”

  “Very well,” Lamb conceded.

  ✦

  By car, the farm was only a few minutes away. In the bright moonlight, the indicated driveway was marked by an old gate that had long since collapsed. Lamb moved the remains from the path before driving on.

  Two parallel tracks ran through the tall grass, leading up to little more than an old, weather-beaten barn, a sagging cabin, and a toppled outhouse. One of the doors to the barn hung loosely from its hinges. The other had already fallen to the ground. From the driveway they could see through the barn, past where the doors on the other end had also collapsed, to a stand of trees beyond.

  “Doesn’t appear that anyone has been here is a while,” Lamb said.

  “The cabin is in slightly better shape,” O’Malley said. “At least the doors and windows appear to be intact.” They climbed out of the car, flashlights in hand, and made their way through the tall grass to the cabin. Contrary to the shopkeeper’s warning, there were no signs of flies. Near the perimeter of the cabin the grass gave way to barren dirt, packed hard by the summer heat.

  Together, the three circled the building looking for anything noteworthy. There was a stairway down to the root cellar in the back, and two entrances to the ground floor: one in front and one in the rear. They selected the rear entrance.

  “What do you make of these
?” O’Malley asked of Anna. He referred to carvings that wrapped around the frame of the door. The markings were very faint and weathered.

  “They circle the window on this side as well,” Lamb added after examining the window around the corner. He rejoined his friends. O’Malley had cleared away a portion with his handkerchief.

  “They appear to be runes of some kind,” the priest added, pointing out certain characters.

  “These are crude renditions of Glagolitic characters, just like on the gold box!” Anna said with a smile. “They must be Brent Hanke’s warding glyphs.”

  Doctor Lamb grasped the ancient-looking doorknob. To his surprise the handle crumbled in his palm. He gave O’Malley and Rykov an incredulous look as he gently applied his weight to the door. The remainder of the doorknob mechanism crumbled, and the door fell inward. It landed against a table inside the cabin, which slid across the bare wooden floor with an eerie groan and a cloud of dust.

  The inside of the cabin was sparse. O’Malley picked up the door and leaned it against the wall to the right of the doorway as he entered. The faint smell of mildew permeated the air. He discovered more carvings on the inside of the door. The doctor passed him, shining his flashlight all around as he looked. He tapped Anna’s shoulder as she entered and pointed to a trap door in the ceiling. The carved glyphs flowed around its wooden frame.

  The room they entered was the kitchen. A simple table with two chairs and a bench lay along the right side past a door into another room. There were glyphs around the frame of that door as well, on both sides. Along the outer wall was a hearth with an old Dutch oven resting on one side against the remains of the beam from which it once hung. The ashes beneath had long ago crumbled to dust.

  The priest was intrigued. He examined the fireplace, often the center of any historical site, and discovered the remnants of a recent fire, though the ash was cold to his touch. There were footprints in the ubiquitous dust. On the table, he found a box of matches and an open pocket knife with a stained blade. O’Malley lifted the knife to his face and examined the stains. They were reddish-brown and dried.

  “I think that came from this,” the anthropologist said, holding up an empty can of beans whose top had been crudely sawed off. She swirled the can in her hand and examined the insides. The remnants within were dried, but still sticky. “I think someone was staying here recently.” Doctor Lamb produced a revolver from under his coat.

  “There’s no need for that,” Father O’Malley said pointedly.

  “Better safe than sorry,” the doctor replied, taking the lead through the other door.

  The doorway led into the other ground floor room, which appeared to be a living room. The center of the room was empty, save for a well-worn rug. Along the walls lay an old sofa, some chairs, and a few coffee tables. The furnishings were stained and rotting. The wood floor was warped, and the mildew smell was strongest there. Stains in the ceiling indicated water damage, likely from leaks in the roof.

  “This place has seen better days,” Lamb said with disdain. As he set his foot down beyond the threshold, the floor sagged, groaning ominously. He stopped before putting his full weight on it and withdrew. “I don’t think that floor will support us, unless you want to give it a try,” glancing at Anna, who was the smallest of the three.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” O’Malley said. He had peeked through the opening to examine the other side of the doorframe. “The carvings seem to be concentrated around the kitchen.” He looked at the front windows. “There are none on the front windows or door.” The others glanced past him.

  “It seems that the kitchen was the focus of some kind of occult activity,” Anna added. “In many cultures, fire is the focal point of activity, and the collecting place for the life force of the family.” Lamb rolled his eyes. Anna glowered at him. “If Longborough and his friends were going to conduct a ritual based on ancient texts, they would follow the steps by rote. That would include conducting it at the focal point for mystical energies.” She examined the floor closely and carefully brushed aside some dust, revealing a faint indentation in the floorboards. “The remains of summoning circle,” she said confidently.

  “The carvings seem to be the same on the inside of all the exits from this room,” O’Malley said after making a circuit of the room. He stepped outside. A moment later, he said, “And the markings on the outside of the window and the door are the same, but not the same as the ones on the inside.”

  In the meantime, Anna scanned the surviving shelves along the top of the room on either side of the outer door. On one, she noticed an old, wooden cigar box now. Standing on her toes, Anna retrieved the box and set it on the table.

  “There are no carvings around any of the doors or windows in the other room,” the priest said returning through the rear door. As he approached, Anna pulled a stack of yellowed papers from the cigar box and examined them.

  “This appears to be Latin,” she said, turning to give the priest a better look. As she did so, the doctor took a small metal canister resembling a snuff box from the cigar box. He examined it, and then attempted to open the top. The top of the canister was sealed by age, but gave way with a pop, and Lamb was engulfed in a cloud of fine, silvery powder that immediately made his eyes burn slightly and his nose run. Putting his handkerchief to his face, the doctor gestured with his other hand to quickly leave the cabin through the door they had entered.

  Anna grabbed the cigar box before she was herded through the door by the priest, who held the papers. Lamb had the presence of mind to close the canister and put it in his pocket before following the others out and closing the door.

  “Get me home!” the doctor said with urgency. “We don’t know what that powder is, but it is quite unpleasant.” Father O’Malley took the offered keys. Anna guided Lamb to the rear seat of the car and sat beside him.

  The priest started the car and took off down the drive. When they reached the general store again, O’Malley stopped the car and wet his handkerchief in the rain barrel. He returned to the car and Anna started to wipe the doctor’s face. Lamb winced and grabbed her hand. He took the wet cloth, flipped it over to the clean side, and covered his eyes with it.

  “Let’s get going,” the doctor said after a calming breath.

  “We will take you to the hospital,” Anna said.

  “No,” the doctor replied with urgency. “I have what I need at home.” Anna looked at him skeptically. “I don’t want the administrator to deem me unfit for work.”

  ✦

  O’Malley took the wheel again and they drove quickly back to Wellersburg. He pulled up in front of the doctor’s house. Anna carefully helped the doctor out of the car and started guiding him up the short front walk and the steps to the veranda. As soon as the rear doors were shut, the priest sped off.

  “I wonder where he went off to?” Anna said with a quizzical expression. And how do I get home, she thought. A woman walking alone at this hour was unseemly, and her apartment was on the other side of town.

  The sound of the door opening brought her back to the present. She guided the doctor through the portal, led him to the closest easy chair, and turned on the light on the end table. His face was pale and drawn.

  Lamb had removed the handkerchief, now barely damp, and was blinking repeatedly. From his expression, Anna thought that his vision was blurry, but it seemed to clear up quickly. He was focusing on her face.

  “I don’t think there is any damage to my eyes.” The doctor’s voice was weak. He breathed deeply through his nose several times, exhaling through his mouth. “And I don’t detect any respiratory consequences of that adventure. Just a bit of a headache.” He closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think a quick shower and a good night’s sleep are in order.”

  As Lamb started to rise, he lost his balance.

  “I will help you,” Anna said as she reached out and wrapped an arm around his waist to prevent him from falling back into the chair. Doctor Lamb was nearly a foot taller and significantly heavier than his slight colleague, but Anna leaned into him and supported him to the foot of the steps. The doctor took hold of the banister and started to climb the stairs. His feet barely cleared each one. After a moment, Anna followed behind him, ready to steady him if he started falling backward, but he reached the top of the stairs without aid and shuffled toward the bedroom.