Prelude:

An Autumn afternoon I found myself strolling through the park along the ancient waterways that have not survived the ravages of time and shovel. I found myself observing the majesty of an ancient elm, planted by Olmsted, with his own hands; the amazing work of mind or nature that has created a barber's spiral of various faces blending into each other up into the thick branches. While I was looking up focusing on the faces in the tree I stumbled over the these little ceramic balls, smearing the chalk on the concrete. I catch my balance before I could fall on the two brothers, Charles and George. I was heading to their grandfather's for a late supper. An ancient sea captain and smuggler, William Balch Parker. As they looked up jeers turned to cheers as they rose up with their little smiles, and began picking my pockets for the gibraltars they knew I was quite fond of.

The Salem Common. In olden days was a field with 3 hills and five ponds connecting to a river that led to Collins Cove. A place shared in common with the inhabitants to graze and water their animals in. The field also held the first muster of what would become this nation's National Guard. Then in 1801 Elias Hasket Derby Jr. conscripted 158 people to form the Salem Commons Improvement Fund to hire that militia to take down the hills, fill the ponds and river in, grade the park, add the trees, and a wooden fence.

Derby, the son of America's first millionaire, was not looking for beatification of the town he was born in, but something much grander. He had met Charles Bulfinch, the man who built Boston, while building a Poor House on Collins Cove. Bulfinch told him of his plan to create a large public works project in Boston taking down the Tremont Hill and filling the mudflats of the Charles River with its dirt. A slight of hand as he built the State House on Beacon Hill. As everyone watched the dirt of the hill be moved by his large railroad, they never noticed him smuggling in the tunnel dirt from the current home of the Club of Odd Volumes, the State House, and many other residences on Beacon Hill. Derby was looking for a way out of his destitution when he convinced the wealthy of the town to pay him to extend the ancient tunnels in town utilizing the militia that was suppose to help collect the duties.

These tunnels made America's first millionaires who went on to shape the Constitution, ran the Superior Court, controlled presidencies, owned our national banks, ran Congress, and created our nations first drug empire. Many of them lived right in this neighborhood. Today it is just a quiet little park and many only think of Salem as a place where they hanged nineteen and pressed one in 1692.

An ancient town that some knew it as Arkham. Those calling it Arkham have heard of the Templar stories of Henry Sinclair bringing the Ark of the Covenant, plus many other treasures, to these shores with my Viking descendants from Orkney a 100 years before Columbus in 1492. For now Salem was the chest's and my home; for I am Sinclair. I have lived in Salem since 1398.

George held the door for me as Charles ran past us, the whirlwind of the two. George held my hand and brought me into his grandfather's study. William sat there in his wicker and iron chair with a silken shroud on his lap with an orient design; hiding a much more comforting merino wool blanket from that scalawag Derby's farm. William had once owned the elder Derby's second mansion in Salem and carried his half off when a disturbance occurred between him and his sordid ship building partner. A disturbance that grew like mold.

In fact it was not over the fact that the mold grew, but which of these two ancient mariners caused it.

Was it the cheap rotting meat Parker bought for his crew, or was it the wet wood Hawkes had used to construct the ship that prevented the hatches throughout from being batten. This debate over chicken or the egg, stayed, was never settled. Benjamin Hawkes moved to Marblehead and started the animosity between the two towns.

Today I found Parker had his mind that day traveling back to a much older dispute over a ship named Revenge.

As I came in, Parker had just folded and placed a yellowed broadside upon his lap. He wheeled himself to a piano hutch and poured two rums. I refused and he dropped two down the hatch. "You know the date?" he said straining over his shoulder as his back was to me. He spun quickly, 180 degrees, "I know you do, now drink with me." He produced another two Russian crystal vials filled with a dark amber glow.

It was 27th of July, the date of a friend, confident, and cousin's death. A dear remembered friend of mine.

Isaac Parker was a high Federalist, a founding member who skirted clear of the stains of Hartford and kept his name safe to say within the hallowed halls of the Cod that founded this country when many after the War of 1812, did not. He came to a murder that led to his own.

Granted nothing was proven. The judge was found dead.

Only three days prior he said he never felt better in his life and he had never missed a day at the bench. As Chief Justice the murder of the rancorous and irate captain Joseph White brought him into the sights of the eminent great orator Daniel Webster. Like the deer struck by the great Massachusetts of this village in times past, neither did Parker realize the metaphoric barrel aimed his way. On the morning of the 27th, the court announced the death of the preeminent justice.

I remember many days within the Tavern with Many Gables with these two over emptied decanters of port. They never cared that my crystal never drained, it left more for them to drink. I still had to pay my third though…

Many times John Adams tried to burst his way into our table, always rebuffed by Judge Parker. His son Quincy did find many lessons on jurisprudence on the knee of Isaac throughout his youth. Quincy was always much more amicable than his father. We always held his attention until, whenever Stephen White entered the room.

White was the president of the East India Marine Society locally, and nationally the head of the state branch of the National Republican Party that ran the incumbent, John Quincy Adams, against that Indian killer, Andrew Jackson. Now Jackson still reigned in Washington, but Henry Clay and Daniel Webster were already campaigning to run against him in the next election. Quincy always tried to find excuses when White entered with Webster to leave the tavern. Black Dan Webster was one to be avoided.

Chapter One:

A Murder Most Uncommon

1830

The Old Man Knocked his Head, and Will not be up in the morning…

I found my way to the old Gardner Federal home, sold upon tough times, just after Easter Mass. Never been across the threshold during John's tenure, but many times found myself within good cheers in the company of Nat West's joviality. Nat had bought it from John Gardner. West came across the funds for this grand mansion, many suggested, from the bribes of agents of Baring Brothers Bank upon the eve of the collapse of the First National Bank of the United States. Baring Brothers was married to the Willing family who controlled the bank. Many rumored that Hamilton made a pact with the devil across the pond when he created the bank. Many believed the bank's closure was due to it selling off our treasury to the enemy of 1776, the Bank of England.

In some ways the Bank of England was our friend for applying pressure for the King to end the war sooner than later. The longer the war raged, the longer the merchants in London and the bank had to wait for American merchants to settle their debts. They had General Howe of the Whig Party throw the War when he went to Tukerton, NJ instead of meeting General Burgoyne at the battles of Fort Ticonderoga and Saratoga. The Whig Party was the party that created the Bank of England when William and Mary took the throne.

On the other hand, when Hamilton created the First National Bank, that replaced the Bank of North America that supported the war, he sold our treasury to the enemy right after. The First National Bank gave a pittance of our treasury to Congress which they could reapply for a larger loan from the bank which the bank then sold to the Bank of England and its major investors. One of which was Baring Brothers Bank. The other major investor in America was the Rothschilds.

So who won the war? The one who won the battles or the one that controlled the money?

So the bribes from Barring Brothers, who provided the loan for the Louisiana Purchase, was to ensure that a new national bank would arise to pay for the debt incurred during the War of 1812. Those who received the bribes in Salem lobbied to create the bank and became it directors. Then as directors of the bank they made sure they sold 70% of the loans from Congress to Barring Brothers and the Bank of England.

In time West sold the mansion he bought from his share of the bribes to Joseph White. White had bought John Gardner's first mansion from his share of the money he received also from Barring Brothers.

These halls within Nat's old house, now forever will be darkened by the sanguine stains that failed, to spot the alabaster sheets.

Breaching the door I met the raised glances of the Knapp Brother's who sat next to their father. Recently, I only crossed this point on rare occasions with Quincy, always begrudgingly. This morning the news of the death of the man who bragged he 'would sell any human flesh, no matter what color he found himself tainted by' brought me back to this haunt.

Maria I had heard in the corner, "Can't understand it—Stabbed that many times an' I found no stain upon the sheet, beyond a single red drop...that might even be the mister's burgundy." Before I took my seat the Crowninshield brothers followed their father Richard, a business partner of Captain White, through the portal with a gust of wind and a few leaves.

"What is the news. Joseph bludgeoned and stabbed?" Richard said more as a statement than a question, "Could not happen to a better person. Hathorne share me a glass." Hathorne has become the Bentley of his day. Bentley, the Reverend of old who brought our former president, Hancock, to Salem upon the eve of the British invasion of Boston. He was the worst gossip.

Now Hathorne has taken his place and with him you can guarantee the news of this event will find its way into the Salem Gazette. A periodical Richard's family has recently purchased a new press for, some say as an outlet for his wife's loose tongue. It would be a race to the pressman at the Salem Gazette between Hathorne and the wanton woman.

"Richard, why do I always find you about when bad news is to be had?" Gideon caught me by surprise as his voice was first hidden before he strode down the stairs into view. "Hello Henry, I am glad you could meet me here."

I followed the doctor through a basement fireplace arch, beyond a large iron door. I have been in this tunnel several times on the way to "Dick" Crowninshield's, who still sat above in the parlor, brothel with Nat. I used to follow him to King Mumford's, but his house was always being raided after the Crowninshield set up shop. Dick had taken up the business on the old port on the South River on Peabody Street. So when Nat owned this home, we were just leaving, I found myself following him onto Dick's also where I would check in with my cousin who was filled with the news of the town. Some say Hathorne gets a lot of his news from her pillow talk.

"Henry, this murder does not settle right with me. Stabbed 13 times with two daggers of different lengths and his head bashed in. There was no blood on the sheets—Miss Beckford the niece and domestic swears she did not change them. He lies as she found him."

"What do you make of it Gideon?"

"The skull is crushed. A narrow heavy shaft seems to have done the deed. Instant death,"the doctor stopped in his tracks to adjust his spectacles, "It seems the blows from a dirk and hunter's blade were done sometime after the old captain's death. Strange indeed. I wonder how many people might of killed him?"

"I hear if they just waited a few more days, the old man would of saved the murderer the trouble."

"Yes, he had been suffering from chest ailments for a tri-month."

"Strange indeed, Lorenzo Knapp has come in from the Boston rags and left already for the presses." Gideon finally settled them on his nose and continued on, "I wonder how he got to Salem so soon from Towne?"

We exited the tunnel from the arch in the basement of the Sun Tavern, the haunt of the White's. Gideon was asked by Stephen White to head a Committee of Vigilance of 27 men to seek out the murderer. So he asked me to join him to share a joint of mutton and the vegetables of the day as we kept an ear open for any news. Above was Stephen's counting house.

The deceased came here quite often. Especially in his final months, since the tunnel provided the comfort from the snow in his weakened state. Captain White did not want to miss the news this tavern provided and he wanted to keep up the control he had within Towne and Salem. Many times he shared a table with Thomas Perkins, the China Trader.

The two made huge profits on opium and slaves in their time. Perkins' nephews would run Baring Brothers Bank in the near future. Only stance the two differ on was, clubbing infant seals in Alaska. Perkins' whose business led to the death of almost 80% of the children of China, could not stomach the bashing of the brains of the sea dogs. Once lost, seals had led him to shore more times than not.

Perkins was at hand that night drinking his absinthe. At his side was John Murray Forbes, who was just beginning to make his way through the social circles of Yale and New York after the success of his uncles' merger with Russell & Co. that year so they can look more upon their railroads.

Samuel Russell, who bought Perkins' China Trade house, was the cousin of William Russell who went to Bavaria to study this year. There are many strange Masonic stories and influences stemming from his journey abroad. Some even threatening my secrets here in Salem. This was 2 years before William would found the Skull & Bones with Alphonso Taft, the future President's father.

Many Federalists in this tavern had father's ranked among those who met at the Hartford Convention. They held power within the state and the nation's capitol, but they could never publicly, outside of Salem, call themselves a Federalists again.

At the Hartford Convention many of Timothy Pickering's Essex Junto who had been planning secession for years with Hamilton, Adams, and Burr where meeting with the rest of the Federalist leaders in New England who refused to fight during the War of 1812. In fact many were in open negotiations with the British to come in on their side against the southern states.

By the time they left the convention with their secession resolutions for Washington, Henry Clay and John Quincy Adams had signed the peace treaty in Belgium. Besides this colossal error in communications, General Jackson, who was now president, just defeated the army that defeated Napoleon at Waterloo. Since then the word Federalist, Tory, and Traitor were synonymous.

Recently a rumor arose from a letter of Thomas Jefferson to John Quincy Adams that Perkins was there in Hartford as well. Perkins was sitting in the distance drinking his absinthe. He was battling Stephen White for the control of the old Federalists.

Thomas H. Perkins, then of Perkins, Burling & Co., after escaping Haiti during the Slave Revolt gave up selling flesh for opium. He was the first from Salem, the second supercargo from these United States to Sail to China. The first supercargo was on the China Empress. Perkins, was though, the first to sail into Canton upon Elias Hasket Derby Sr.'s Grand Turk.

After discovering that the Chinese did not want to barter for any Yankee or European goods for their silk, spices, tea, or porcelain, he found a greedy appetite for opium. He had the good luck to have a cousin, George Perkins, who sided with the British during the great war that was rewarded by the King a post in Turkey. From this post he was able to acquire the cheap opium from Afghanistan to pass onto India to be mixed with their higher grade before it was imported into Canton for Thomas Perkins.

Not all Tories left for safer ports during the Revolution.

Now many chests of silver are finding their way into Towne and Salem. There was talk about several chests of silver the Crowninshields are rumored to skip off the Grand Turk with the Knapp brothers into Captain White's house. The debated profits of a venture between these two, White and Perkins, over a large crop of poppies. Also some of the crates of opium were robbed as well.

This came at the worst time. The East India Trade Company flooded the market in Canton before the White/Perkins shipment arrived. Prices dropped through the floor.

Perkins was hoping to recoup this loss by introducing the drug into Boston and Salem. This amongst the loss of his nephew Thomas Tunno Forbes during a typhoon created much turmoil for him as of late. His other nephew, John Perkins Cushing was sent back to stem the bleeding until John Murray Forbes had negotiated the sale of his company to Russell & Co. John was now running Russell & Co for Samuel Russell.

In another corner Richard 'Dick' Crowninshield was talking up a few women. It has been said Dick has been running a den in his saloon on Peabody Street. The flow of customers to his brothel seems to breach the high tide mark around the time of the supposed theft of opium from Perkins' ship. The Knapp's and Crowninshield's fathers were long time partners with the deceased.

Gideon order a decanter of port and two glasses. That night the decanter emptied, but my glass held only the first pour. During that period we discussed the current event.

'What do you think of it all?" Gideon had asked. I replied, "White had many people who would not miss him."

"What did Bentley say of him? He had 'no reluctance in selling any part of the human race'. It was rumored he said it with a great grin before raising a large draft." Gideon said shaking his head.

"I don't understand the effort. He would of died any day without any outside help." I proffered.

"Strange indeed the timing. He was bedridden since February. The murderer might of did him a favor in fact."

At this time the young Hathorne came to sit with us. "What is your opinion on the murder?" Nathaniel's open secret was he was working for the Salem Gazette.

"We should ask you what you have heard first." I interrupted.

"Well Stephen White has whipped the town into a fury. He has left his suite in Boston to head a committee of 27 men, no detectives or police, but a goon squad. They have started harassing the Democrats. Many still are upset with Jackson and are looking for anyone to take out their anger on. Federal Street has been spared of any abuse." Hathorne offered. "After this melee many believe they will be murdered next, by this mob or the true murderer or murderers."

"Murderers? How much of the murder has leaked out already?" Gideon wondered. Then again Nathaniel might have been the old Reverend's best pupil. The only gossip worst in town was Dick's mother. The Irish maid from New York City who married or seduced her way into the prestigious Crowninshield family.

"What do you know of the murder, Doc?" plied Hathorne.

"What I know has to remain sub rosa until an official inquest can happen." Gideon said with a look not to ask more. Nathaniel went on his way.

"Henry, I was asked to head the committee." Gideon said with lowered head and eyes sent about the room. His eyes settled on mine, "I was asked while I was examining the body. Not an official autopsy, you found me conducting this morning, but a preliminary. What is your opinion?"

"I think you should. We could use an inside man. Stephen is not to be trusted. Since he took over the East India Marine Society he has elevated our enemies efforts in finding my secrets. This committee might open many of our homes to his spies to find our tunnel network. Much effort was expended to seal access from the location he built the Marine Hall on. Our ties with the Essex Historical Society is still strong. Their vaults hold many of our treasures stored here before Columbus landed in Santo Domingo." I went on.

"I still think you are crazy...tales of being an immortal. Sinclair, I know you said to me many times you have been to Salem way before Columbus, but I admire you in all things under the sun besides this fact I keep having to ignore. Logic says you never lied to me that I have to believe you, but I don't!" Gideon was flushed now, "Who is this Leif anyway?"

"Don't worry, I am not old enough to know that old Norwegian." I say. "Only to add to our problems, a more thorough translation than Kettell's of Columbus is soon to be published in Washington's Irving's second edition. The Norumbega and Icelandic maps that the society proffered for Columbus will be revealed. With that the items...Leif received from the Culdee monks of our savior will be uncovered."

"Oh!!! Don't tell me more. I don't want to know anymore secrets of yours. I don't know if it is the port or you that makes my head hurt the most," Gideon said dropping his head into his arms.

Chapter Two:

Return to West's

The next day while Stephen was out rousing the town into the greatest fear since the Witch Hysteria, Gideon invited me to have a look into our old friend's house. We entered through the front door.

The murder happened on the second floor in the room to the right of the stairs. The bloodless sheets remained in place. None of the weapons were left behind. I scanned the dresser and found several gold coins worth a large fortune. Robbery could be ruled out. A footprint outside the house was found, but this yard was used as a shortcut by many to access Brown Street behind. I took a look at the sheets. There was blood where his head laid, but where his heart laid above, none.

13 blows and no blood.

Gideon had noticed two knives had been used. He wonders if the blow to the head happened much earlier than the knife wounds. The wounds of two different dimensions and depth leaves him to wonder how many actually murdered this elder of the Revolutionary War. Captain White had made his fortune as a privateer during the Revolution with his baby the ship Revenge.

Captain White was a loyal British subject until they captured one of his ships and stole his commerce. He then proceeded to purchase the ship Come Along Paddy from our nation's first millionaire, Derby, and renamed her. Captain White was a widower and left without an heir after his nephew Joseph died from choking during a drinking binge. The ship Revenge he felt as his only baby.

Many believed his leaning returned to the Mother Country after the war. In fact his constitution always bent toward the highest bidder. A lesson he learned from the old slave markets. He was still selling slaves 6 years after the trade was abolished. In fact Hathorne's father was on the ship Felicity, owned by the corpse, when its captain was murdered by escaping slaves.

It was assumed Stephen White was to inherit his vast shares in The Second Bank of the United States. President Jackson has a growing fear that the bank has sold 70% of our nation's notes to support our Congress to our old enemy the Bank of England who profit from the interest. It is leading to Baring Brothers having undue influence in the affairs of our senators. Especially Daniel Webster who is a director of our nation's bank in Boston. White had been a thorn in my side for some time.

The house man believes the culprit climbed through a window. Mary Beckford, the elder, was also present on the morning of the murder. Her daughter Mary married Joseph Knapp Jr. in 1827, against Captain White's wishes. That was also the year Stephen lost his own wife. Many said he took out his pain in firing Joseph Knapp Jr. as soon as he returned to port with his ship. Then the marriage to his cousin... Knapp lost his mother that year after the death of Stephen's wife.

I was thinking these things over while staring at Perkins' Franklin Building through the window, the building that the brothers would have their first toy store in, when Gideon broke my trance. "What you think Henry?"

"I think more is at hand than this murder."

Chapter Three:

Fear

In the days that followed the Committee was everywhere. Many heads were cracked in their questioning. Especially in the Democratic quarters along the northern end of Derby Street. The Committee only took breaks from their program of fear to roust the prostitutes on the southern end of Derby Street. If Salem was second in the nation's international trade, it was first in homes of ill-repute. Only thing more disgraceful was the militia coming to the aid of Leslie's Retreat before the Battle of the Green from Salem Village that stopped to...protect the distillery in between the two settlements.

Many of the wealthy of both camps paid small fortunes to either brick up their window wells or bar them over. Windows and doors were barred from threats that the public read from the pamphlets that White had printed on finding the murderer. He was offering a reward of $2,700, which was quickly dropped to only $1,000.

In the streets there was talk of the Brahmins moving to Towne. This would be the death blow to Salem. Shipping had already shifted to the deeper ports of Boston, now the retired older money were already making inquiries to agents to sell their homes. Some were thinking beforehand, but the murder has hit the nail on the head.

I have agreed to meet my friend William Parker on the Common where I met his coach. I exited the tunnel in front of Senator Silsbee's house. "Greetings old friend!" I entered the coach and William proffered me a hit upon his flask of port. I denied and he took a slug.

It was a warm day and we chose to visit Mumford's in the sun and not in the dark of the paths below. We were on our way to the back of Knocker's Hole. After the drawbridge was laid out on Derby Street, shipping beyond to the mechanic docks and Ruck's Pond came to a halt. Afterward the darker servants of Federal Street moved into the neighborhood. Many it was rumored were runaway slaves. Mumford, or King Mumford, has been the reigning King of the Negro Picnic for several years. In opposition was Charles Remond who was the Federalists man.

Mumford was in charge of the saloons and brothels, until Dick Crowninshield opened his operations on Peabody Street. Mumford has been raided several times since. Before he was protected, but now they have one of their own color running the elicit trades in Salem. Still, Mumford knew all the dark secrets of this town which kept him within a respectable amount of power.

We entered his home next to his saloon on the corner of Highland and Broad Street. His daughter showed us into his garden in the back. There he was with several others of his children. All dressed better than many children on Federal and Chestnut Streets. They also did not suffer the foolish practice of putting boys in dresses till adolescents. Nor were they in short pants when older. Mumford cared for the littlest of his flock and the oldest the same. Within the elite homes of this city, father's only admired their children when they could go to sea or be married to proffer economic allegiance.

"Hello gentlemen." Mumford said as he lifted each of us a tomato. Then he handed us some fresh basil. "Hold that till we can have a seat." We sat down and he cut us some cheese to be eaten with the vegetables. "What can I help you with today."

I swallowed my first bite and proceeded, "What do you know of the affairs of late?"

"You might not believe me, but rumor has it that my opposition has a hand in the murder. Him and his brother. I have also heard stories of them involved in the Perkins' theft. Now these two ideas don't sit together. I have also heard George Peabody has returned to settle his mother affairs."

"George! Why does it seem trouble always follows him. Nobody seems to get anything to stick to him or his cabal. I know everyone blames him and his friends the Rothschilds, but there has been reasons..." I said shaking my head with a smile, "He was in the slave trade with the victim and Perkins. These families have strong ties and strong influence within our government."

"There has not been any suggestion of Peabody's involvement, yet. I bet you will find something my old friend," Joked Mumford.

"You have something mighty to offer your friends..." asked Parker. Mumford sent his oldest to bring some rum. Parker smiled. Mumford had connections from Barbados where the darker breed sold the cheaper wares to the lighter breed and kept the best for their own. Mumford had a way to get the best of everything. Parker's eyes lit up knowing this fact.

Before his son could return the Committee was breaking in to roust the King. They started shoving and physically hurting his children. I stepped in. It has been awhile since I got to berserk.

I went after the first and lifted him by the ankles by my shoulders and threw him as I stretched my back. I ducked the next and sidestepped his punch as I grabbed his wrist, twisted, and popped his elbow with my other hand. Then I took out his knee from the side as I used it to launch into the third with my cane.

A blow to his temple and I landed in front of the older Parker and waved my hand for him to escape into the house. Mumford got his family to safety and we followed them into the tunnels below. Beforehand, Parker got to motion to his coachman through the window with a humorous elephant trunk made with his arm in front of his nose.

Mumford led his brood to his cousin's home further down Broad Street. We exited at the Stoned Elephant Tavern below the Gallows Ridge. Named after the once U.S. Representative Jacob Crowninshield's Stoned Elephant. Parker ordered two ports, he emptied both glasses and then filled them both with the rum he absconded from the King. I was not stupid, this was the king of rum.

When we finished, Parker's man was waiting outside for us.

Chapter Four:

Down the Hatch

Gideon sent me a letter informing me that the Committee received correspondence from a man named Hatch that was in jail in New Bedford:

April 16th, 1830

Henry,

Stephen White has received a letter from a jailer 70 miles away in New Bedford. An inmate named Hatch, a petty thief, claimed he had crucial information. While in the gambling house up on Lafayette Street three years ago, this Hatch had overheard Richard and George discussing their intent to steal the Captain's iron chest, along with a Selman. The Committee has brought Hatch in chains to testify before a Salem grand jury.

Yours Truly,
Gideon

The next morning I met with Gideon at the Essex Hotel for breakfast before continuing on to the prison. We would of walked, but Gideon had his man meet us afterward.

It was an inhumane place. Thy hanged prisoners above where they ate. Just dropped them from the trapdoor while the men below ate their meals. Rodents and other vermin everywhere. The women once resided here, before they flashed their breasts one time too often from above during Sunday mass.

Now they are out on the farm.

Buckets for latrines and shackles in the tunnels behind the boiler where they sweated prisoners during the summer. Even in autumn it was stifling. The stench of filth pervaded everywhere.

We met with this man Hatch.

He was a thin frail. Being young of age, he had the signs of many years of the drink which seemed to strip the flesh from his bones and embalmed his leathery skin. A manual laborer who seen many days in the hot sun, on land or sea. Though his body was weak, he had a strong glint in his eyes. A glint of mischief. "So you want to hear about the night in the cheathouse?"

"So what do you know of this murder?" Gideon asked. He had seen this type before. Many from the denizens of malice could be found for the right price to change their situations. This Hatch had the look.

"We were in the 'newsroom' with lady luck when the losses were to be had that the subject of recompense came up. The Crowninshield's were talking about that old miser and his chest of gold while the Col. and Chase sat licking their wounds. They caught all of our attentions," Hatch was smiling and leering in closer to us. "It was this February, just as the old man was committing himself to his death bed. The chills that settle deep in your lungs that rattle your bones gripped him."

"I was informed you had said this conversation happened in 1827, not February of this year." Gideon had questioned.

"Nah, it was February of this year. I am sure of it." Hatch said this with his hand out as if he was juggling coins in his hand as he winked at him.

"Ah-lets be rid of him. There is nothing to be gained here!" Gideon said starring into Hatch. We left afterward and met Gideon's man out front.

We climbed in and Gideon took his constitutional and offered me one. I instead partook in a gibraltar. "Evans, head for Perkins. He should be at home or in mass at this time of day." Gideon ordered his man. In the coach I realized who Hatch was, he was Long. Or Longinus, the centurion who speared the side of Christ. He was cursed with an immortality filled with guilt knowing he stabbed the savior of mankind. It had been years since I last seen him and it took me a moment to recognize him.

At Perkins' home on Ash Street next to the Unitarian Church we found Thomas conversing with the sexton over the state of the church's lilies. The sexton excused himself and we entered Perkins' modest home. Most of the funds he received for his part of the bribe from Baring's went into his purchase of the Franklin Building which housed his Salem Marine Society and the Second Corp of Cadets. He was another of the directors of the Second Bank of the United States.

We sat in his sun room where he served, us himself, cucumber finger sandwiches and a gunpowder tea. The room was filled with tropical plants from his journeys. Unlike his former employer the senior Derby, Perkins took to the sea for years before handing the travel over to his nephews. The floor was made of exotic tiles from China and the air was humid. "What can I help you with today gentlemen?"

"We heard you had suffered a recent loss..." Gideon asked as he sank back into his chair.

"Where have you heard that. Is Hathorne telling tales out of school. Maybe it was that Limey city whore? Hmm?" his tone never deviated from the one he might use to read a homily. "Gentlemen, don't believe all you hear. I remain quite solvent."

"What about the loss you recently suffered in Canton? The old Turk not as fast as she used to be? The Company I had heard beat you to market," I jabbed him with.

"We recouped in Boston and we will make extra in Salem."

"For medicinal reason I am sure of..." Gideon said knowing it was far from the truth. Mumford girls were falling for it. Many not up to par for the King's employment fell into Dick's saloon. When they were too far gone in looks, mind, and spirit, Dick ran them on Derby to ply the street and wharves. Many women were just starting to be found, dead with punctures and callouses on their hips. Only last year they only had to worry about sores on their backs and knees. Mumford protected his girls. Dick, enjoyed seeing his clients beat on the women a little.

"Low & Co. prospers well from the sales in their apothecaries. It is a much needed aid to those in chronic pain, plus those who go under the knife." Perkins said as he flashed a blade and did a little hop in his seat as a chuckle escaped. "My boys, it is a great market and a service to the human race."

Many women were pricked by Dick that fell for the addiction. Though the seed is an attentive lover, just a little forlornness of its company and its embrace kills quickly. Many who tried to escape and loose the pipe, just died when they are forced to return to the brothel.

"You know anything of this Hatch the Committee has brought in from New Bedford?" Gideon inquired.

"No, not a name I am familiar with...should I be?" Perkins sat back in his seat and looked at him over his shoulder shifting his mantle.

"Thought it might have been a name you heard back in your whaling days." Gideon jabbed.

"You know far too well I never sunk to the lantern trade. Oil is far dirtier than the 'China Trade' will ever be. Maybe just as much blood, but still far dirtier for these porcelain hands." A slight air of anger and murder flashed through his countenance to be dissolved by a smile. "Now gentlemen, you must excuse me it is getting late. Let me see you out."

"That is fine we can make it on our own," with that I knocked on his mantle and a section of ceiling high wainscoting swung open and we walked through into the depths of the cities to his surprise, once more. Gideon had already informed his man not to wait for us and meet us in front of the Howard Street Graveyard where we ascended through the winter crypt. In it they were just placing Captain White's body.

Gideon's man just found out that George Peabody had arrived back at his mother's home in South Salem after handling her affairs with the esquire.

Chapter 5:

The Docks

I went down to the riverfront to look into the stories of the theft of Perkins' gold and opium. Nathaniel West our old friend owned the Derby Wharf now. Elias Jr. and his sister came to blows with Nathaniel to settle ownership on this wharf. Even after his divorce from his daughter, Elias Sr. gave Derby Wharf to his trusted x-son-in-law. Nat proved more competent than his own son in running his affairs. He was right. Junior spent his share of America's first true estate in 2 years. Which led him to work with Charles Bulfinch, the future Architect of DC, to extend the tunnels through town.

Many of the new tunnels almost ran into my old ones. Many believed Derby was building the tunnels to help our nation's first millionaires avoided the dreaded Jefferson's duties. In truth he was searching for the Judas' ring that I hid in the ancient tunnels in 1399. Something that all the vampires hunted for, but not the most dangerous thing I have hidden under Salem.

We, Gideon and myself, went up to the Grand Turk docked at the end. It sat in front of Thomas' warehouse. It was nearing sunset when we arrived. Hanging his feet over the edge of the wharf tying a monkey fist, with shaky hands, was the wharf rat named Long. Just released from prison under the name of Hatch.

"Long. You won't out run me with your knobbly knees, just sit where you are." I stated. Long looked right then left, lifted his right shoulder, rested on his hand, then thought better and relaxed, "Alright," he resigned.

Long at one time spent many years in the dens in Canton while working for Perkins, but on his return trip, he was whipped by John Cushing for sampling the product. They then lashed him to his bunk, in which he almost died in, but by the time they reached Boston he was off from chasing the dragon for life. Which only proved that he was lanky, shaky, and generally unreliable beforehand. "Hello Gideon."

Gideon shared his flask with him.

"Long, what do you know of the robbery?" I asked. "I could use a pylon as a cheese grater on your face, I don't think the barnacles would mind…" I said with a grin as I started to pull him up.

He shook my hands free and stared me in the face with hunched shoulders. "I know they are blaming those Knapp boys of stealing it. But, that gold made it into the tunnel before Captain White could send those boys here. Then the opium, he sold that outright to Dick."

I heard a sound behind me. Then before I could get a better hold on him Long ran off as the sun went down. The next moment me and Gideon were jumped. Twenty five fell upon us. I pulled the tip of my cane off to reveal a sharpened wooden tip. The first I stabbed in the heart and the second I hit with the other end and finished him off in the heart as well. Gideon had his revolver ready with his silver bullets and he proceeded to shoot five outright. Long escaped into Perkins' warehouse and waved before he escaped through the tunnel.

Thirteen left. Now I pulled the sword out of my cane. In one hand I had the sharpened sheath and the other the sword. The blood was rising again, I cracked my back, and my eyes turned blood red. I lopped a head off and went down on a knee and stabbed another in the stomach to halt him before removing his head next. I lunged over the body and struck another in the heart with the sheath. Gideon shot the next two who came behind me.

Seven left and that is what they did, they left.

Me and Gideon sat on the wharf and hanged our feet above the water. "So does the Committee still trust you."

"Definitely they do," he took another swig. "White is suspicious, but it would be even more suspicious to remove me. Granted I am only head of the Committee in name only; I need to be careful for I might be the scapegoat for their abuses that are piling up." Gideon said before taking another swig as he nodded his head.

Chapter Six:

The Merchant of London

Recently Peabody had just arrived by a sloop from London where he was carrying on business of textiles in Liverpool and US state's debts in London. Only two years ago he became senior partner in Baltimore when his partner resigned and left his children to be governed by him forming the new Peabody, Riggs, & Co.

The textile business had brought him into the acquaintance of Nathan Mayer Rothschild, who never forgot where his father placed him to start his fortune. The men shared the same interest in sheep. Something they both could shag in between giving it a go to the poor and such. If Barings owned a third of the Bank of England, Rothschild owned the remaining third after Hope & Co.

Now Nathan, had prospered heavily after Monroe signed the charter for the Second bank of the United States. Some blame his brother James in France for engineering the prior war to force us into a war debt leaving us with the only course to establish a new national bank to gather new loans to pay for debt.

For in 1811 we closed the First National Bank that has be draining us since the close of the Revolutionary War at England's profit. Congress has been applying to the new bank for funding beyond its means and the bank has sold roughly 70% of those notes to the British who were only to happy to see us in debt as we paid more in interest to them for perpetuity. Peabody was just beginning in handling those notes as well.

We found Peabody with his tailor being measured for a new suit made from fabrics from Manchester. "Hello, by good friends-Ouch, watch where you are putting those things. You soon have me looking like one of Crowninshield's girls if you are not careful. You know only the poor sort give up the callous for the prick? What can I help you with today?" Peabody motioned with his head for us to take a seat.

"We were wondering if your brother David has heard anything about the Crowninshield's involvement in the murder of the good captain." I had asked. His brother was always in trouble and on the lurk for money in the shadows. The Peabody home was only a few blocks from Richard Crowninshield Sr.'s Machinery.

"I have just got into port a few days ago and I rushed to find my tailor to make a good Yankee suit for me before I return to Liverpool to finish some arraignments. No, I have not seen him since my return. Not sure if he will surface, only if he thinks there is a quid in it for him," Peabody snarked. "But his good son has been about and in fact, made me my lunch before my man here arrived. He shall be going to Yale soon"

"Have you heard any stories on the docks about the Perkins' theft; I know how much you like to stop on the wharves to hear the town news." I asked.

"No. No, what news?" Peabody said a bit shaken as he peered on us as a wolf would his prey looking down his nose.

"The talk is that the Knapp Brother's stole a chest of gold and some of the shipments of Opium. Dick Crowninshield seems to have been plying some of the 'China Trade' on his girls. Seems his customers like the state they are brought into." Gideon offered his interjection.

"Oh...I have not heard. With Perkins nothing is as it seems to be. He puts things in place. Things to be heard, but nothing has its phase until fortune brings them to its final location. Its always a shell game. You know the pieces, but you never know which shill will have them." Peabody smiled. "Crafty one he is. Hard to find him with his hands dirty. He just has so many relatives."

"How is it in Liverpool? How are the Brown Brothers?" I asked.

"Nathan is quite happy, you know buy sheep and sell dear and all...Southern cotton shears are up; which has found shares high in London this season." Peabody started laughing at himself. "Just recently I have found a new venture with the Brown's father Alexander in Baltimore. B&O, does it stand for body odor? A railroad much larger than Perkins' and Bulfinch's Granite one. You ever think they will finish the piedmont on Boston. At least Thomas had the good sense to build the monument on Breed's Hill. We don't need anymore of Longfellow's folly?"

"That is a good question. I fear much of that granite has entered beneath the city as more and more of the rivers find themselves filled up in Towne." I suggested. "Bulfinch was a hit with his tunnels up on Beacon Hill. He has had many command performances since. Especially since he returned from Washington this year. I hear the traitor Longfellow has a new tunnel connecting to his home. I wonder if Washington preferred the old tunnel there than the ones we had in Salem"

"I had experienced some of his work in Georgetown. The craftsmen in Baltimore seem a bit, subpar. Though the ancient byways under London even surpass that of Charles' capitol work. Though he always seems to be falling short of capital from his endeavors. His brood and all. I hear one is creating a manifest on the world's mythologies. Imagine informing the crass on what our airs and allusions mean in our speeches. I think Webster just makes up half of them himself just to keep even us jumping. Killing 5 pro-counsels and all...with one swing. He has used that one several times and I believe he will keep doing so."

A man had just entered dressed as a French footman in service of the Sun King, ruffles and all in a golden embroidered coat, breaches and socks. He wore his own hair though. He handed George a letter. George shook his legs to have the tailor pull away. The tailor went back and George swiped at him. Then the tailor pulled himself up and his trade and left the room.

"Excuse me gentlemen I have been called away on business."

 

Chapter Seven:

Broken Connections

 

Ground was just broken on the rose line. Our treasures were in several iron chests under the stables of the horses we escaped with from France. In this part of the world I think the horses and the amount of them was more of a wonder than the treasures that have touched our savior and his saints. You could not find a more appropriate place to hide them than where they were found originally, aye though roughly 6,000 miles to the west.
We found these under the stables of Solomon's temple. At this time even king's were illiterate, for this story has not passed from mouth to ear beyond the strictest of circles.
I had found an orient, well an Indo-Orient. One whose genes came from north of Turkey that settled in all the Outremer and India to conquer the Dravidic of those nations. One who could have been of David's clan. He was making his way toward me.
"Blessings be on you and you kin." proffered the gentlemen.
"May the Father of Understanding guide you; how may I help you sir?"
"I have just embarked from France, my journey led me there. Though I entered upon the scourge of their King, ramifications of the death of the Pope in Rome and the installation of the one in France, and heard too late of your order's departure."
"How did you find us?"
"The stone of the blood of Emmanuel Ben Joseph leads me to you." He pulled a ruby from beneath his robes that shined when he rubbed it like one of our sun stones held to the sky on a clear day. "This brings me to your stables."
"Aye, you have to fight the Bruce for those Stallions. He placed his call on them first."
"Not the horses, but what lies beneath their excrement," he smiled. "Granted, it is not the first time they have been blessed in this fashion."
"You know of the myths?"
"I know only the truth," the Outremer said with a smile and he slapped me on the back and we walked toward the stable.

 

 

Lazarus. He might not be an immortal, but he has the memories of all his lives intact. Upon his 4th birthday once his soul is settled in his new life, then the flood of his old ones comes back to him. If the memories come too soon, then it fractures the personality shifting from one life to the other.
At times of extreme drunkenness, which is quite rare, I have seen this shift between egos and time; it can be quite funny. Each time I have paid dearly for getting him into that state. Even if it saved our lives from occasion to occasion.
In this life he was known as Kettell.

 

 

 

I was sitting on Hatch Wharf dangling my feet and partaking in a Scotch Ale. A man came from behind and removed his shoes and sat next to me.
"How long till the water will rise and hit our feet," he asked.
"Oh about 4 hours," I answered.
"I have been around for a very long time, but my life has been separated by long comas, even though it has been one long sentence. Unlike you that just continues on and on my friend." the stranger looked at me knowingly.
"May the Father of Understanding guide you?"
"Blessings be on you and you kin, how may I help you." proffered the gentlemen.
It was once again my old friend Lazarus.
"What do we call you these days?" I asked as I was moving away from an embrace with my old friend.
"Kettell, Samuel Kettell. I have recently translated the work of Christopher Columbus' journal. As you can expect I had kept some 'certain maps' out of the work. Those that Sousa's gave to him that included the Icelandic and Zeno maps." he said concerned.
"Good, good," I said joyed.
"But. The Zeno companion map has been stolen."
"The Salem map?"
"Yes." he said while holding my shoulder.

 

 

Our Knarrs were just leaving the coast, sailing west to search out Vinland. It was said to be a place of grapes that had two islands in the harbor and two rivers leading inland. Later people called it Norumbega.
War was coming to England and it was going to spill over into Scotland. Richard the II of England was losing his grasp and Henry of Bolingbroke was making inroads to his throne. Plus our Western Isles were under threat by the kin of Robert III of Scotland. April 1398 the Scottish King's lost control when his brother Robert and his son David—now respectively the Dukes of Albany and Rothesay—lead an army against Donald, Lord of the Isles and his brothers who I swore sovereignty too.
The old Norse and Gaelic ways prevailed and we were left to our own. The old Norse sections to the west and the north we governed unto our own. This was under threat.
The old treaty between Templar and the Bruce could come to an end. The enemy might be able to hold the treasures of our savior. We needed to move them once more.
I was also a vassal of the Norge crown. I knew Iceland would not be safe as well. Plus it was a bit too cold for me. I had hoped to be in a place where the sun shined on the grape. So we went off to find Vinland.
Upon the eve of our journey Lazarus had found me via Venice. This time he was a Venetian noble who provided passage to the Holy Land for the Crusades. His name was Nicolò Zeno, who came with his brother Antonio. Plus a cannon. The first ever to be placed on a ship.

Luckily for us, Columbus was not good at following maps…

 

Sun was setting on the wharf. We heard some noise from behind. There was some stalking from the shadows behind Forrester's Warehouse. I could smell them again.

Chapter 8:

There is One Problem with Salem, All the God Damn Vampires!

We had our backs to the water as they came out from behind the warehouse. The tunnels gave them quick access through town in the dark. Then they just waited to pounce, in location, right after the sun sets.

The cloudy day did not help us, only giving them an early go at us.

My tip was off, sword out. Kettell pulled an ancient Katana out from his great coat.

He removed the first three heads in quick succession. I took the next four. The rage was not upon me. These seemed smaller than most I have faced. Quicker, I noticed as one slashed my arm.

He would stab one and lower the opposite shoulder and get below the other throwing the second into the first to follow with a swing for its head. His strikes were like a snake. Hard parry to the outside with a single movement straight back for their heart.

As he was holding them off, I took a look at the head I just removed. It was Asian, again.

When we were finished, I asked to look at his katana.

He corrected me it was a zhanmadao from the Song Dynasty. "No, it is not a singing sword..." He continued. It was more like our Claymores back home. We went for the legs, the Chinese went for the head of the horse.

We retired to the House of the Rising Sun. It did not have say a legal bar, they gave free rum in the parlor to paying customers of the upstairs services and rooms. I knew Lilly who ran the home, she was like a kid sister. As usual we stayed downstairs. At least for me, I can not say for Lazarus in this life. Any way, it would be weird to go with a courtesan in front of him. Before this immortality I find myself in, I was once his brother-in-law in Judea.

"That was strange. We have not had a Vampire attack since 1815 when we found Derby's tunnels under Old Towne Hall," I had explained over a pint six of Scotch Ale. "Now we have had two in the same week!"

Derby had left some stragglers after his move to Londonderry, NH. For awhile he only fed on his sheep he gained from the Pyrenees during the Napoleonic Wars. When there was news that he began satiating his craving on his new populace, I assumed he had went senile and there was no taming him once more. It has been 4 years since I had to go up and slay him.

These two attacks have broken our four years of peace.

Asian?

What ship had recently come in from the orient?

Perkins! He had lost a lot of money on the last opium cargo. He could have been paid. He could of found himself that desperate to take on such a deed. I have heard for decades now he has been in league with Howqua.

Howqua controlled the Hongs of the Thirteen Factory System. It was the Song Dynasty that first issued paper currency. Though through several dynastic changes, they learned to spur paper. Went to bed one night as a millionaire, wake up the next with a new emperor and you found yourself broke.

In time they found themselves only using silver. Which they demanded from all barbarians. The only thing they traded for was opium. Howqua was in charge of that trade. He was the richest man in the world.

"I think I know who might of brought them here, but the question is why," I told Kettell. "We need to find another old friend of ours. Long has showed up on Perkins' ship."

Long, or Longinus, the centurion who pierced Christ side with the Spear of Destiny. In truth he was hapless, toothless, and almost blind and was assigned the dirty work of crucifixion for being caught napping on guard duty. That or sleeping with the pro consul's daughter. When he stabbed some of the blood fell into one of his eyes, not the other. To this day he has one glass eye and the vision of a hawk in the other.

He was to spend his life to the end of time in a cave being mauled almost to death by a lion to only find himself healing for it to start up again the next day. Sunrise to sunset. We never figured on that the cat would die in time, but not him.

Before we caught up with him, after the piercing, he had cut down Judas from his noose he hung from for 30 years. After robbing him of his 30 pieces of silver he threw to the ground. Some think Judas was cursed to walk the earth for eternity, as the first vampire. Blood Guild of silver, is now what kills his brood. The magnetic charge of that silver Long stole, keeps bringing the vampires to him through the centuries, and also keeps him safe from them.

He still hates cats. Prefers rat terriers on his ships.

Now he calls himself Hatch.

We find Long on Peabody Street in Crowninshield's tavern. He is sitting being served by Dick.

Kettell orders us a round of Mead. Dick gives us the decanter and two goblets.

"Richard, what about the rumors of the chest of the old captain." I ask.

"I hear it was Perkins' chest I'm being blamed for along with the Knapps," responds Crowninshield. "Hatch here, owes my houses and the 'cheatinghouse' a fair sum. The only one who owes me more than him is old Black Dan. He thinks now he is a senator he does not have to pay the likes of me. My uncle is a senator too you know. He pays his debts. I guess that is the difference between a good Democrat and a Fed, though." He pauses and continues, "Anyway, the average rag reader will only read half the headline, especially the part that reads 'gold chest'. They will not remember the noun or nouns before it especially if you want to change the rest of the line a week later. Since a partial headline is remembered, it becomes truth when repeated with another's name or story. Then you make sure everyone hangs on the details and you beat the dead horse home."

"I have been warned about Perkins' methodology before. What do you think he wants out of your involvement, if he settles on you?'

"Who else would be a good patsy. Gambler, pimp, rum runner, poor relation, black sheep me." He continues, "Plus, Good old Joseph Story who sat on the Supreme Court; he used to work for my family. He wanted to outdo his betters. When my other uncle died after spitting up blood on the Congress floor and died 5 days later; it was Joseph and his nephews Joseph Jr. and Stephen White who rallied to have Story take the seat in the House. Now look at him running our nation's court and bank. Story's brother-in-law Stephen runs him and Webster. Some even say Clay too. Stephen was behind the recent failed campaign of John Quincy. Plus, my family has paid for the presses of the Salem Gazette that just recently ran the letter between John Quincy and Jefferson naming those who were in the Northern Confederacy that met at the Hartford Convention. Perkins' been trying to put out that fire. He was mentioned too. Perkins and Story are just a few who sold our country out in 1811 building their fine homes, now they run our nation's bank. Both good old Brits in my book. Both sit with my uncle Benjamin on the board of the Boston Branch of our nation's bank. Yes, Benjamin took Baring's money too."

"Would you uncle stand for you?" Kettell asked. He took a sip of his mead and waited for the answer.

"No, my father and his choice of Irish wife from the Five Points brought shame to him and lost him a Democratic nomination for president. There is no love loss between the two branches of the crown and shield. We find ourselves on the shield side, shielding ourselves from the shit that falls down hill." Dick said and chased his words with some good whiskey. "Also Stephen is still mad over the slight my father gave his uncle at the end of the Embargo Act in the Sun Tavern. My father and the old Captain, they there were good old partners for many of a score till those ships," with that Dick walked into his office in the back.

I looked back to Long, he was gone. I pointed to the door and Kettell was on him with his knife.

I swung in my seat, "Where are you going Long? Come have a drink of mead on us."

"I can't captain. The dragon has taken my taste for the drink with it."

"Then just sit with us," I kicked out a seat for him.

Kettell pulled his knife closer in on his neck drawing some blood. "Don't mind if I do."

Chapter 9:

A Long Tale

Long took a seat in between Kettell and me. "So Lazarus, you're looking good. You don't look a day over a thousand."

"Funny Long, at fifty you look like shit" said Kettell.

"OK, Long. What do you know of Howqua? Is he here or is he coming? What does he want with Salem?" I inquired as I worked an elbow noogie straightening his arm and then applying pressure to the inside of his elbow forcing him to hit himself in the face. I kept this up in succession. I found out long ago he hated being anyone's puppet, figuratively or not.

"Alright...Ouch, you stop that-Ouch; come on, stop that-Ouch, really now, act your age-Ouch!" This went on Long for a very long time until…

"Alright. Can you stop now!" Long pulled away and stood up. "Howqua is coming. I don't know which ship or when."

"Why?" I followed in a threatening fashion with an impish smile with my knuckles out.

"Oh! I know he is meeting Thomas for something on a world level, but to get his legion here they needed to disguise their activities. The orient vampire has thinner incisors, with a little filing they can mimic a hypodermic. They have been trained to bite where an opium eater tends to stick themselves. Also if the drug can provide enough people that have been forgotten by friends and family, they will not have to exsanguinate them completely and snack on many and instead of the few. Leaving the victims, who do die, look like overdoses," he paused and then continued, "Then with the right payments to the right people, no autopsies. No autopsies. No family. No problem."

"So how does Captain White's murder fit into this?" I asked. I started asking about a murder and find myself falling down the rabbit hole. "What does the Knapp's have to do with anything?"

"Those brothers and their friends the Crowninshield,they have proven to be trouble makers in the past. They have history. Abraham did not only have just one scapegoat, Yahweh is a hungry god," Long sneered. "I believe their story has not been written out yet. I do fear it will become a tragedy though."

Chapter 10:

The Miskatonic University

Inside the depths of the Essex Historical and Natural History Museums is hidden the Miskatonic University. After almost a week of looking over old tomes of family histories, diaries, and ship registers my studies have brought me to look into the occult silver lines that drew me into the university.

Even when I first arrived in the 14th century, the Massachusetts tended to only venture into this area for short times. They believed prolonged stays beyond a season had adverse effects on their minwàbimewizi. Their luck; their karma.

In Ye Cove at that time was a boiling vent that released many electromagnetic currents from the various key lines that terminated in the town. The Volcano had been inactive, in traditional ways, for millions of years, but it worked up the undines. Water elemental spirits. These spirits worked on the emotions. They preyed on the emotionally weak. The melancholic and the exasperated fell under their influence during the Witch Hysteria. Now we find ourselves a center for the Swedenborg Church and the beginnings of something called the Spiritualism.

Since Dr. Edward Augustus Holyoke's death at 100, the Salem Athenaeum who also finds themselves in this building and Holyoke's museum have been leaking secrets, sometimes dangerous information into society. Just this year they have built a Lyceum to disperse knowledge to the common folk. They are working with the Transcendentalist from Concord and Boston. Hathorne has been arraigning these lectures.

The Lyceum is also connected to the tunnels. They say that in the middle of the night upon the Witching Hour they conduct strange ceremonies led by the Miskatonic. In later years James Russell Lowell would read Dante's Inferno here.

Holyoke had acquired their first library from pirate who robbed Dr. Richard Kirwin's, of Dublin, ship. Kirwin's history has been obscured by the English. Many odd stories surrounded him.

I was let into the chamber in the subbasement after going through the trapdoor below the fireplace arch. Asenath met me. She was recently brought back with her original soul residing in her by the eminent Herbert West. "Hello Henry, can I help you find a book?"

"Can you find Professor Albert, I need information on the town's secrets." I said as I kissed her hand. In her past life, she had a hard go of it.

After her marriage her father possessed her and she was thrown into Arkham Asylum. There her husband killed her body and her father jumped into her husband's body forcing her husband to reanimate her dead body with his soul. Just to be killed by his best friend. Her body was used and abused, but now was quite healed.

She brought me to the professor's study.

"Henry! Look here. Did you know of the Massachusetts cat weirs? Were they in the same place as we find them today?" asked the professor who had eyebrows like Venus flytraps.

"We can talk about them over a late dinner one night, but now I have urgent matters."

"What may they be my dear son?"

"We have orient vampires, opioids, theft, and murder going on in town, but lets start with the history of the Knapps and the Whites. I have read the Joseph Knapp Sr. owned many ships with the Whites. Which seems to stop in 1827."

"Yes the Knapps and Whites were close in business together. Also the Crowninshields owned several ships with them. The Crowninshields partnership ended much earlier. It was at the end of the Embargo. The partnership sailed three ship into Naples and they were confiscated by the French. Richard Crowninshield Sr. was heard in the Sun Tavern, original location, self-deprecating his and Captain Joseph White's folly for ever sending their ships.

To ad insult to injury he added that Jefferson knew better. What a sting to an ardent Federalist. White ended the partnership after he got done choking on his wine. It was a hell of a sight. I enjoyed it thoroughly..." said the professor with a large glee in his eyes and wide smile as he nodded his head up and down.

"Where was the falling out with the Knapps?" I asked.

"I believe it was a long time coming, but what truly ended it was when Joseph Knapp Jr. married the old Captain's grand-niece Maria Beckford. He was sending correspondences from sea to her and married her against the White's wishes as soon as he got back to port. Stephen never gave him a ship again to master, he says it was due to his incompetence." The professor shook his head, "I believe it had more to do with the marriage, but why? The two elder Joseph's were thick as thieves for years. After the marriage the father began to be scorn by most of the town. I believe they felt threatened to cross old Captain White."

"Where did White first make his fortune?' I asked.

"He was a loyal Tory during the Revolutionary War, but switched sides after they ransacked one of his ships," the professor said with a smile. "He promptly became an ardent rebel and bought the Come Along Paddy from the elder Derby. He renamed it the Revenge! It comes to be found that revenge through the years became his favorite past time. Not many crossed him," he finished with a stern look. He then paused as he was reading a passage in a book that had been in front of him. "For a man whose wife had left him childless before her departure, that ship was his only child after the death of his favorite nephew Joseph."

Chapter 11:

April 27th

I met up with Gideon again. His man was driving us to Wenham to visit the Knapp brothers. It was a glorious evening. Venus had just broken through the trees and the spring peepers and crickets just began their song. It was a bumper crop of cicadas that year.

Venus in Canaan was named Shalom. Little did they know that the star they seen in the morning, Lucifer, was the same star they seen in the evening. One star and two polar opposite gods.

We were rounding Eon Street, coming up on Wenham Lake just as dusk fell upon us. As we rounded the curve we heard a commotion. As the road straightened before the next curve we seen some vampires fall upon a carriage of three; a driver and his two passengers. They were putting up a valiant fight from their carriage, but they were outnumbered. I fell in quick and Gideon loaded his pistol.

I cracked my back and felt the blood rush. Muscles tightened right before I stabbed one with my sheath and the other with my sword with a bear growl straight through both of their hearts. Another turned on me and I took his head. Gideon then shot one that almost got the first passenger from behind, it fell from the carriage. The second passenger shot another. The first kicked another toward me I let hit the ground before I lunged into his heart. I turned and with a swift movement I pulled out and swung of another head. Gideon had come up behind those that were left. I stood in the front with the three in the first carriage poised to attack. The vampires went to the side and disappeared into the woods. The cicada were the first to resume again. Then the sounds of the crickets and the peepers returned to my ears after the blood cooled off.

"Thank you stranger, may I ask your names?" asked the first passenger. "I am Francis and this is my brother Joseph."

"I am Henry Sinclair and this is my friend Dr. Gideon Barstow." I said with a bow and then pointed to Gideon as I addressed him. "We are looking for the Knapp farm."

"We will take you there, for by chance that is our destination. For we are the Knapp brothers, will you join us for some mutton and potatoes?"said Joseph.

We entered a modest farm house. It was a fine estate in its day, but later owners seemed to have no use for keeping up airs. The property had a cozy lived in feel. You never had to worry about staining the oil skinned painted floors.

We met Maria, Joseph's wife, a lovely courteous young lady. She invited us to sit at her table and poured us some water with lemons. "Fresh off the boat from West Indies, the Sloop Patience came in. Good price too."

"Thank you!" I said as I sipped this delight.

Gideon jumped the gun a bit, "So what is the story with you and the White's. Why would there be rumors after the falling out about the marriage that you were in clandestine employment with Joseph White?"

"Well Joseph here, and Maria of course, are expecting. We were in hopes we could find a ship. Joseph White made sounds toward our father recently to let bygones be bygones. Times been hard since White put the squish on us. There were few ships for us to master. We were in hopes this would change, but after one meeting, the old Captain's ire went insane and he tried lashing us with his cane. We left," said Francis.

"It was just enough to get the rumors circulating," Joseph explained with anger. "We were set up for something which has not played out yet."

"Why was the White's put out so much with the marriage? Your father was best friends with him." I questioned.

Maria had just left the room to acquire some fresh herbs from the garden.

Joseph looked both ways. Francis looked toward his brother and nodded. Then Joseph went on, "It was unnatural. Maria was young then. Much in the control of her mother who always put the fear of God into her." Joseph paused and lowered his head. Then he lifted with a rage and looked me straight in the eye, "That old lech had been having his way with young Maria hoping that she was his last chance for an heir."

Francis continued after his brother could not, "See many in the White's were hoping to be in his will as the old Captain's favorite. There was lot of money to be had. There was great opportunity after the death of Joseph Jr.; who some think that Stephen just stood and watched his brother choke on some cork that fell into his wine. Some said there was something else in the wine. Stephen does own the chemical laboratory in town. Needless to be said, Maria is no longer in that will. It is a miracle she didn't loose her grandmother's farm here," Francis said then took a pause. "Maria's mother, Maria, sought to have that fortune through her grandchild if the affair produced a child for the old miser. Joseph took that last chance away from him."

"Did I miss anything while I was gone, or was it the conversation that should remain amongst the men only?" Maria said walking back in with her basket of herbs with a joyful smile before she left for the kitchen.

The diner and the revelry was great. After we supped the brothers played on fiddle and fife some Dutch folk tunes that were sprite full. We shared some hemp from the rope fields in their pipe and had some tea. We all had a gay time. It was splendid. As the moon rose high before we left, Maria sang a sorrowful but sweet air about good friends never parting for good.

Gideon dropped me off at my house on English Street. I went in and pondered what I learned.

Chapter 12:

The Indictment

On May 2nd Dick and George Crowninshield, Daniel Chase, and Col. Benjamin Selman were arrested. Dick did put up a fight and did run through the tunnels before he was caught exiting on the island on Winter Street before Judge Story's house. George was found in his girls' bed again. Chase and Selman was in the cheathouse.

All of these arrests just on Hatch's constantly changing story. Was Perkins' headline changing...

They were indicted on May 5th. Dick was charged as principal for hitting the old man with a lead pipe and stabbing him with a dirk and a second blade which brought upon his death. George, Selman, and Chase for abetting the crime. The story about the gold chest was manifesting. Even though the chest was left intact and loose coins remained on the dresser in the morning after the murder.

Future Superior Court Justice Lemuel Shaw, was presiding when Selman and Chase was released for lack of evidence. The time of the murder my friend's cousin was sitting Chief Justice, Isaac Parker.

Even with Dick removed from the populace, many kept chasing the dragon. Women were still being found with what looked like arms filled with injection marks. All pale.

I found out that on the day that Hatch was brought down from New Bedford, Thomas Perkins found out his nephew Thomas Tunno Forbes was found dead. He sent a letter to John Perkins Cushing, who was Howqua's favorite, to set for Canton immediately till the other Forbes arrived in July. What did Howqua have to do with this death? What was Hatch's connection with the Perkins? Did the news about Thomas Forbes come through the port of New Bedford? Was there another message that Hatch was bringing to Perkins?

I need to talk to Hatch again.

I set off for a few days for New Bedford. Long had left the Salem docks to head back home. William joined me on the journey. I have not seen him in awhile and he had to see about purchasing a ship in that old whaling town. In truth, I don't think he needed a new ship, he just sometimes needed a break from being a parent and a husband. He was too easily henpecked if he was not careful.

"So what is new with the case. My cousin Isaac has been informing me some, but there is very little that is substantial that comes across him. What have you found?" William pondered as he handed me some of his gibraltars.

I took one and sucked a long bit on it before I answered, "There is much more going on than the murder of White. There is the mysterious death of Perkins' nephew in China, that death and the possible connection to Howqua, the oriental vampires, the flooding of the city with opium, the death of young women being blamed on new hypodermics to disguise the vampire killings..." I sucked on the candy a bit and continued, "Then Perkins' investments in railroads. He is behind a plan with Peabody to extend a rail from Salem to Boston. He is extending the tunnels in Boston and diverting the granite from the Bunker Hill Monument to that project. Some misguided women are even taking up a charity to give him more money to finish the project, they think capital is forestalling the project."

I continued, "Peabody was not close to his mother, what is he doing back? I heard his passport is signed by Senator Henry Clay himself. White, Perkins, and Story have nominated Clay for the Republican nomination for president. Webster is little sore about that, but what is there to say; Stephen owns him. His son is married to Stephen's daughter and his brother-in-law has taken the other. Webster knows his place. The Essex Junto is still going after the control of the country for their British masters. Jefferson had never forgotten about their plans, but thought before his death this was for younger men to curtail them."

William interjects, "Didn't the Crowninshield paper just reprint the letter from Jefferson to John Quincy condemning them again last week?"

"Yes the paper knows that things are forgotten quickly. They believe this is a point they need to keep vigilant with. This party sought Hamilton to lead an army against the nation back in the 18th century. Plus then during the War of 1812 they were preparing to break with the country and fight with the British against the southern states. Some believe it all centers on the two national banks and who controls them." I continued, "You know Perkins is sending a lot of granite to his school for the blind in his Pearl Street mansion. Bulfinch has a hand in it. I hear it is rumored that it is copied from their conspirators from Hartford who have a similar school for the blind. What better way to keep things secret than to have a bunch of the blind around?"

"Henry, you probably have felt it with the secrets you hold. The Anti-Masonic Party is calling for their first convention for nominating a presidential candidate; to be held on September 11th . The 1827 kidnapping and murder of Captain William Morgan has not been forgotten. Was that not also on September 11th? Didn't Morgan have stories about your Templar treasures you are so secretive about. I only know because of that spear my ship helped return for you. You never told me more. I heard there is plenty you are not sharing," William said digging for more.

"Yes you know I can't. Also that year Joseph Smith had some revelations. Remember him digging for gold back in Salem. Saying God told him where to find it..." I said shaking my head.

"He just started a church filled with what he calls the Mormons on the day of the White's murder. What does that have to do with this all?" William says as he pulls the carriage blanket tighter to his neck. It was a cool Spring evening and we were feeling the wind from the ocean.

"Many changes to our nation are coming forward." I said. "You know Hamilton was appointed Secretary of the Treasury on September 11th. Much about this murder is going back to his national bank and its successor. What is the importance of this date? Why did they chose to kidnap Morgan on that day. Did he have more than Mason secrets? Was it banking secrets?"

"I don't know what will come of the Indians. I hear Jackson is signing an Indian Removal Act later this month. The Cherokee are too strong and powerful in Georgia. They are almost running the state with their agricultural might. I think Jackson has a hand in the future real estate of those plantations once stolen." William said sounding concerned.

"Did you hear William Huntington Russell has left Yale for Bavaria. Some say he is looking for the secrets of the founder of the Illuminati who has just died this year. The Second Great Awakening seems to be taking some bad turns. Russell's cousin has close ties with Perkins. Samuel Russell has taken over the Perkins' opium interest in Canton. This was brought on by the older Forbes death and Cushing backing out. Is Howqua behind it?" I said adding the heaviness to the conversation.

William lightened the mood, "Have you heard about Charles Durant attempts at lighter than air flight. An American to give the French a run for their money! Many believe he will fly further than any French man when he tries."

"William, have you heard of our young friend Nathaniel? He wants to ad a 'W' to his last name to disassociate himself with a judge in his family that was part of the Witch Hysteria?"

"Yes, he has started a story about the Judge and the condemnation of his cousin's home. The old Turner estate. The one with 4 Gables is it? Yes?"

"I hear he has been studying tales from the Tavern with Many Gables. How many does that one have, 7?

The jailer just delivered Hatch to our table. Once back in New Bedford he was arrested for something petty again. "Hello Guv'enors! What would you want with the likes of me?" he said with his best Fagin sneer. "Come a long ways has you. Must be important. I might be worth...something to ya."

I didn't like the implication, "What is your connection to Thomas Perkins? Have you come in recently from Canton? The jailor informs us you have not been in long, before you latest trip to Salem."

Hatch laid out his arm on to the table and kept flexing his forearm. It was like a nervous habit. I wonder if I struck a chord?

"Never been in more than a shallop. Only miles from the interior you know," Hatch was lying. "I just don't have the legs for going much further." He kept flexing his forearm. Even quicker.

The prison was dark, even now in the middle of the day. The sun never pervaded this place.

"You came in on the William and Charles owned by Perkins and then soon was arrested on petty charges before this recent arrest. What was your mission?" I prodded.

Hatch remained quiet. His arm became still.

"Are you the currier of the death of Forbes? Did he die in the shipwreck or before?"

Hatch just stared me in the eye, unenthused.

"What are those holes in your arm? Did someone shoot something in your arm...or draw from it?"

"I do not get the gist of your question?"

"Are you in service of a higher master than Perkins?" I said grabbing his arm. "That is not from opium is it, Renfield?"

"From time to time."

"I assume you needed to find a new master after your Count got it in the heart?"

"Some personalities...just need masters. Masters need servants, especially skilled ones. Ones who can motivate or control others are highly desired."

Long had spent some time going by the name of Renfield. Renfield was a highly respected psychologist from London who fell for the power of a Transylvanian count. Later in life, beyond what is written in this novel, Renfield would meet Bram Stroker in London at the Lyceum Theater and tell of his tale, hoping it would be turned into a play. During his tenure at the playhouse he led the painter Whistler into madness which ensued paranoia over an art critic named Ruskin which cost him his fortune in legal fees.

Long had respected Vlad Țepeș, Dracula, for their shared love of spears.

"So how long have you been serving Howqua?" I asked as I sat back.

"I learned from my first master, the thin line between servant and master is imperceivable by the adept." Renfield said with a smile. "Now I want to go back to my cell. Good evening gentlemen. I have some fava beans waiting for me." He got up and left without ever looking back as his jailers followed him.

He was out of his cell within a fortnight. His only perceived crime was public drunkenness. He had played his part well and returned to the deck, as a joker.

Chapter 13:

The Letters

I spent a few days with William in New Bedford looking on information on the William and Charles. Then we headed back. We were sure either Long either will beat us back to Salem or have jumped ship and was on his way back to Canton. I was sure his card would be played again.

When I got back to Salem I looked up Gideon. He informed me that on May 12th Stephen White received a letter demanding $500 from a N. Blackstone the 4th. In the letter it detailed how the author of the letter used a lead pipe to hit Captain White in the head and then proceeded to stab him 10 times with a dirk. Leaving Stephen to stab him 3 more times with a separate knife. The author was looking for his promised fee from Stephen.

On the 13th Gideon received a letter from his son, Gideon (Yes they are real creative in Salem). It was the same letter sent to White but signed Grant. A separate Joseph Grant Jr., Postman, delivered the letter to Gideon Jr..

He went on to tell me about Judge Story's reaction. Story went across the compound that connects his three sister's homes to his brother-in-law Stephen's home and lifts him by his shirt collars and demands an answer for his murdering of his uncle. Stephen White denies all. Joseph Story is still seen in social circles with Stephen, but he seems aloof when it comes to the Joseph White murder.

Gideon suggested it was a good time to meet Joseph Knapp Sr. to learn the truth about the falling out between him and the old Captain.

We went to Knapp's residence at the corner of Orange and Essex Street, not far off the Common. Knapp answered the door himself. He had recently had to let staff go. They once had a fine mansion on Chestnut Street where the Salem Brahmin's live.

"Hello Gideon. Who is your friend?" Joseph asked. Gideon had owned ships with Stephen and Joseph White. Knapp also owned ships with the Whites. They were all members of the Salem Marine Society. Which is not the same as the East India Marine Society which Stephen was president of now. Perkins is a member of the Salem Marine Society.

"This is Henry Sinclair. He is helping me in the Joseph White murder."

"I bear no ill will for the dead. To me Joseph died 3 years ago. Something evil took over his mind and heart. He has been without his soul for many years. I think the death of his wife, Mrs. White, finally drove him mad all these years later." Joseph said shaking his head as he led us into this parlor and motioned us to take a seat. The room was lit by tallow candles and the walls were beginning to show.

"How so?" Gideon acquired.

"For years Joseph surrounded himself with friends like myself who had heirs for their financial empires. I myself have Joseph. Richard has Dick. Gideon has Gideon. White had spent a lot of time fashioning the Second Bank of the United States, his slave empire, acquiring baby seal skins, and his opium trade with Perkins; he needed someone to continue in his name afterward. His nephew was to be that man, till he choked. Literally!" Joseph laughed with a skip in his step. "He just could not take it any more. Stephen was planning to have a child with his wife. It was to be named Joseph. She died in 1827. Some say with child."

"So how was that pointed at you?' I asked.

"See my son married Maria Beckford his grand niece and mistress. If Stephen could not get the job done, he would do it himself." Joseph said with disgust as he poured a drink down his throat. He wiped his mouth and continued, "It is all for the Revenge."

"I don't understand, you said 'the' revenge?" I asked.

"It was the ship he made his fortune with. He treated it like his baby after Joseph Jr. died," he said laughing. "We were like brothers, there was no one he trusted more. He sold me that ship."

"So where was the problem between you?" Gideon inquired with confusion.

"I lost that ship to a pirate in the West Indies." Joseph sank his head before he continued, "I had lost his only remaining child." Joseph sat straight up and bolted, "It was the same year my son Joseph was born!"

Joseph sank into his chair before continuing, "When the captain went mad from my son's marriage he disinherited Maria and tried to steal her farm." He paused, "Then my wife dies under mysterious circumstances within months of the wedding."

There was a knock at the door. A courier met the elder Knapp. Joseph came back and sat before he read the letter, not expecting much from it. It was signed by a Charles Grant Jr.

It was addressed to a Joseph Knapp of Wenham, Ma. It implied that he had hired the man to commit the murder of Joseph White and was demanding $350. The postmark was from Belfast, Maine.

Wenham. Why was it sent to the elder in Salem and not the younger in Wenham?

"This is outlandish. First my sons are accused of stealing a chest for the old Captain. Then conspiring to steal his chest. Now they are be blamed for the murder?" Joseph said while slowly raising his voice. "Excuse me gentlemen, I need to see my sons."

Chapter 14:

Lies

The next day John Francis and Joseph Jenkins Knapp Jr. were arrested. There were four now sitting in jail for this murder. Dick was first accused of the murder, but in time they would accuse each one in turn. It was like throwing pasta at the wall and seeing what would stick.

Joseph Knapp Sr. was besides himself. Thinking twice of not begrudging the dead.

For the next few weeks the Committee of Vigilance quieted down. In few instances they were still raiding the Democratic scions of town, anything to get a few shots into the opposition. Ministers rallied against the Democrats using the Crowninshields to hold up as the worst sort of demons. Stephen was to have his man Clay in the White House. Stephen was the head of the National Republican Party.

He had failed to sustain his candidate John Quincy Adams in the Oval Office. Many were not sure when John Quincy read his speech at the inaugural dinner for the East India Marine Hall if it was for his status in society or that of Stephen's. Lately John Quincy has been falling short in opinion of the Federalists after the Jefferson letter. Perkins for some reason was keeping him close to him to be used as a card in his deck in the future.

Now it was Adams' Secretary of State and the man who sat next to him when they signed the Treaty of Ghent which ended the War of 1812 who was chosen to be the candidate for his old job. In fact it was his and Clay's timing and the bad communication that was between continents which ended the Federalist Party.

The Essex Junto and a league of Northeastern states gathered on Hartford Connecticut, after they signed the peace treaty, to talk about secession during a war they thought they were loosing. This coupled with the victory of General Jackson over the Wellington's Army in New Orleans squashed any talk of secession and siding with the British to attack Virginia. Both events happened after the official ending of the war. The Junto only found out that the war was over once they came back to Salem. If it was not for the grace of Madison and Monroe we would have had a 'Civil War' in 1815.

Jackson riding high on his victory was now seated to be Henry Clay's opposition for the throne. Clay was aligned with Daniel Webster to make two thirds of the Great Triumphant. The two most powerful senators in the country. To think these two met because Matthew White sent a letter to Clay asking if hemp was better than jute to make rigging out of. This journey to answer this question eventually led Clay to John Quincy and the eventual meeting with Stephen White.

White now owned the Congress through Clay and Webster. The Supreme Court through his brother-in-law Joseph Story. Webster, Perkins, and Story all protected his Second National Bank. Either through Webster or Clay he was going to try to control the White House as well.

It was Clay who pressured James Monroe on his Northern Tour visiting the traitorous states, who met him in ever town with their militias at the ready, to create the bank to appease the Federalist who were regrouping under the auspices of the Democrat Party. They were going to rot the Democrats from within if they could.

It was also Perkins' architect he got to be hired by Monroe to rebuild the capitol and reproduce his tunnel scheme he designed in Boston, Salem, and Newburyport.

Work on large public works on a hill near a water source. Have everyone pay attention to you moving the dirt off the hill with one hand, while the other sneaks tunnel dirt into the water as well. Tremont Hill in Boston. Three hills in the Salem Common. Bartlet Hill in Newburyport. Capitol Hill in Washington D.C. Bulfinch has been back from the Capitol for a short period, now he and Perkins were working on Breed's Hill in Boston again.

The bank is firm in place and Stephen has taken it over after the death of his uncle. It was just found out he has inherited $250,000. Plus his daughters each receive $25,000 which goes to Daniel Websters' son Daniel Fletcher Webster and his brother-in-law who is married to the other White Witch. Daniel Webster is probably going to fleece his son and his brother-in-law for that money...

Barings is quite happy. They just floated Perkins a loan to save his losses on the last opium sale he had to sell in Boston after Canton was flooded. This will protect their investment of the notes they have bought from the bank. Great timing for Howqua and his brood of vampires. What was Howqua's goal. I don't believe it is immigration only.

George Peabody has been quiet. You can not ever believe he is ever idle. He has been seen entering the Salem Bank. Peabody is a board member there and their president and founder Holyoke has just passed on at 100. There is a rumor there is an inter-dimensional machine which Peabody visits the Norns with. His string on Wall Street and London is uncanny, he knows the market before it rises and falls. Many think he controls its motions. I think he has foresight.

I have always been steered clear from the center of the Salem Bank building where there is a center shaft with strange windows on it. Peabody's travels might explain his disappearance. His partners, the Rothschilds, have been paying fortunes on new communication devices ever since they found the value of the carrier pigeon at the Battle of Waterloo. The inter-dimensional machine is their crowning glory. If it exists...

Could the murder of White be that simple? Four old friends who rampaged New York City and came back in chains be the murderers? Are their wings black? Dick is a rough one. The Knapps though, they were gentle and quiet. They seemed they might have had follies in their youth, but have moved past them. Whatever Maria Beckford's mom had her do prior to her marriage, that lament showed forgiveness for herself she found deep in her soul.

I believe it is what you do to amend, to atone, is the keys to the kingdom. It is not above or in the future. It is now. Change your life now. Forgive yourself. Pay to those you trespass in deed or money. Then your heaven will only grow once you leave this plain.

I needed some solace myself. I took a carriage ride with Kettell to Rafe's Chasm in the Magnolia section of Gloucester. We walked through the wooded trail to the red cliffs over the water. The water was green from the storm that was just ending from yesterday. The waves were breaking twenty feet high on the rocks and swirling the salt in huge white patches. The breeze was just right and a few harbor seals were seen bobbing in and out of the water.

It is a fabulous place to get your head straight. Ever since I was a kid I loved jumping from one stone to the other. Testing your balance all the way. Then scaling the large walls of rock without thought. Just instinct. It kept my soul sharp, but at peace. I found Kettell hopping the rocks too. He was enjoying himself.

Our man had brought down a picnic and laid it out for us. Coming out of the water was two bathers. Not wearing that much. They asked to sit down with us and partake. Who were we to argue. We ate and sat till the stars broke the silence of the sky. Conversations ran from Hawthorne (now with the W) to Emerson. Spirituality and the folly of religion. I broke out my flute and played some old Japanese airs. In mid song the one lady closest to me interrupted and had me follow her behind one of the rocks. She had said my Emerson was good, but she needed to straighten out my Longfellow.

The Second Awakening was good. So was the 8th that night too...

Chapter 15:

The Arrest

After being satiated the night before, I visited the House of the Rising Sun in the morning. Well my morning, noon.

I met Lilly there. "How are you doing Henry? I have some chocolate from the mill on Lafayette street; I can mix some up in milk for you. It is the latest thing they are bringing back from the trade with the West Indies."

"I have had that before." I had a smile and my hand was motioning her to bring it on. "It is quite habit forming."

She set it before me and I downed it and asked for another, for which she obliged me. I will take this over mead, port, or Scotch ale any day. I was in fact born during Bridget's month, the patron of milk some 400 years ago. 01,23; the easiest date to remember.

"How is your family Lilly?" I asked.

"They are doing wonderful. The good people of this town either bring their kids here for the first time, they trust us and we are kind and gentle to them. We give them real girlfriend treatment. We touch their minds and hearts too.

Then most of our other customers are elderly and we take the burden off their wives who rather leave such matters to others; as long as we don't take their hearts. We do mend and make them stronger before we return them home though." She says with a smile. "Plus we are sure dam good at what we do. Them texts that ship brought back from India sure helps business. Who knew we could get so good at archery!"

A girl came rushing from the upstairs over to us. She was crying and she hung from my arm with eyes pleading and her mouth trying to fashion words that were too painful to say. "Mr. Sinclair.

My boyfriend is sitting in jail for murder; which he could not have done. Me and my friend were with him all night in Onion Town."

"You have any proof."

"Half of his floor and foreman had seen us entering the private quarters of his machine shop. Plus there were various clients of his who were inspecting their purchases. It was a rush job that took all night milling the parts for something called a paddle boat.." she said with a quizzical way the last part. "Please help me. You know Gideon."

I brought her to Gideon. She told her plight. He said he would investigate this matter on his own, personally. I asked if he needed help on this quest, he strangely said no and made some weak excuses.

I questioned him on this meeting after the fact, but he was hushed on the matter. He became distant. In a hurry he excused himself.

The four sat there in the Salem Prison. There was some talk of Dick bribing the jailers and returning to his saloon to administer business and to take care of certain needs in his brothel. The story was he would return through the tunnels on Monday. He seemed quite joyous I heard. There were rumors he dug up something he was waiting to spill or be paid highly for.

Dick was a man who could work any angle. He had been arrested many times, but always worked it to his favor. Why would this time be any different.

On the afternoon of June 15th at 2 p.m. a Nehemiah Brown found Richard Crowninshield Jr. hanging from a low cell window from his two silk handkerchiefs with his feet on the floor and his knees almost touching the ground. Brown went for his superiors. They came back and were not sure if he was alive. First they took galvanic batteries to his chest to try to revive him for a proper hanging later.

Then one of the jailers was present during the original autopsy of Captain Joseph White. He overheard that the Old Captain didn't bleed on his sheets after being stabbed 13 times was due to the fact he was dead before they ever stabbed him. This fact he shared with the other jailers. So they decide to slit his throat and see if he was alive. He bled out and died.

Accidents will happen.

Everyone was being indited as the principal in the murder, but most people were leaning toward Dick. Chief Justice Isaac Parker, William's cousin, 10 years prior set the precedent that you could hang the principal in the case, but you could not try an accessory to the fact without proving the principal did the murder.

There was rumors Stephen White was to hire Daniel Webster in the case. He was one of the country's best lawyers. Him and Story had discussed many cases in the Supreme Court which has since shaped our nation.

This was not sitting well with Judge Parker. He did not forget that trial that one member of the Hartford Convention accused the other of being in the same room he was in when they tried selling the country to the British in the time of war. The defense attorney for the man Webster was suing for libel was Franklin Dexter who is stepping in for the defense. The case humiliatingly was brought to a hung jury by Parker. He knew Webster never forgave him; after turning down his bribes. Parker was suppose to be a High Federalist who took care of his own. Webster felt he failed in his duties and sought recompense. He did make open threats in a drunken rage at that time. When sober, Webster was like a shrewd Hawk, a bird of prey who struck silently.

That was more than what can be said for him publicly; he once read a five hour dinner speech.

 

Chapter 16:

Waiting

It would be a month before the first trial would begin. Benjamin and Chase would be the first to be heard. The rest were waiting in limbo. The two blackmail letters addressed to Stephen White have been all but forgotten. I have not seen Gideon much as of lately. He has ben spending a lot of time with Webster, Story, and White.

The Committee of Vigilance has gained a taste for the power the murder delivered them. Just recently there has been a mysterious fire in the prosperous Democrat neighborhood in the North Fields. Still many of the old wealthy class have been putting their homes up for sale and buying homes in Towne. Many believe they will be the next to be murdered. Stephen’s Salem and Danvers Detection of Thieves and Robbers merges with the Committee. This was a private police force for the wealthy. Stephen also was head of the Second Corps of Cadets along with Joseph Story.

The Democrats in town had no recourse for the bullying of the Federalist in Salem.

Stephen has been coming and going to Towne. There was talk he was thinking about buying Noodles Island. He also has been meeting George Peabody about making a railroad from Salem to Boston Towne.

Well for me, I decided to forget the murder and all the strange goings-on. I decided to ride my horse to the top of Topsfield. Summer was shaping up.

It was cooler outside of Salem and continued to cool off as I passed under tree lined trails. Especially as I steadily climbed the gradual rolling hills out of Beverly into Topsfield. Houses and farms were sparse here. These ancient native roads had a touch of glory upon them. I crossed the creek before the hill rose. At the top I stopped to see the various crests of the hills that make up Topsfield. Below was one of the few farms I crossed on either side. I seen a few cows running in circles toward the sun as the horses were running circles in the other direction…

At the bottom I came to the crossroads where I left the swamp that ran next to the road, for I was heading north and it the opposite.

With the happenings of the late, I decided to skip the Sleepy Hollow neighborhood and took the left instead along Salem Rd. I passed two more farms before crossing the Old Post Road which led all the way to Washington. When I came to the great Ipswich River I headed north across and followed the other side on River Rd. As I followed the river I came across two great manors. One was having a fox hunt through its great lawns before they disappeared chasing the fox through the trees with their bugles blaring.

Just beyond the manors was an ancient home, a first period. Achak’s family have own this lot since Masconomet signed the Agawam territory away. It was the home of Achak’s brother Malsumsis who was away for the day. He inherited it from their father.

“Kwey!” I said to Achak as I entered the kitchen with the great fireplace.

“Kwey Glooscap!” he said as I was raided by his children who were tugging on my pockets for my gibraltars. It is custom to walk in without knocking. The Agawam don’t have much stock in private property, they hold everything in common. I grew up in a Norse community on the Isle of Orkney and many homes there were no different. “Sit, Julie has just made a stew. Charlie Talks-a-Lot has just come back from Gloucester, the Spirits told me you were coming and you would enjoy this new trend. Chocolate milk,” he told me as his wife placed a glass in front of me.

“Hello Henry. Have you found a good squaw yet, Henry?” Julie prodded. “Why don’t you settle out here in the woods, you love it more than the city. I have plenty of sisters to choose from...”

“I know, and they are all truly pretty, I could never chose between them. It is too hard of a choice, so here I am alone."
“Oh Henry, I would say let them choose which would have your gentle heart, but they are all smitten.”

“You and your family are too kind. Now Achak, are you up for chasing some turkeys after we sup?”

Achak and I hiked along the Ipswich. “Your spirit seems tainted. Your mind worried.”

“Yes, besides this Indian Removal Act that is doing much harm to our nation’s soul, there is a new wave of vampires coming in from the Orient. Contact just drains your energy. Plus there are great schemes that might have national impact brewing, including the removal of people from large tracts of land to our south,” I said before pausing, “but, I came here to forget about those things.”

“I will just ask this and we can chase some turkeys, you believe if its Naumkeag’s Asquam Widjigo that draws these vampires. Widjigo feeds on emotions.”

“Yes, I believe so. Water spirits do such to your emotions and lead to depression. Those in depressed state are easier to control and those led to rage make great armies,” I agreed before spying in the distance, “There is the first one; behind that bush is the rest. Lets go!” I said as we both began to chase the birds. They would run for 20 yards and get fed up and fly 100 yards off. We ran up on them again and they ran...20 yards and get fed up and fly 100 yards off. Repeat. Good times.

On the way back I made sure to go by Thunder Bridge and leave a small token to Thor.

The next day I went with William to the East India Marine Hall. Stephen White had Daniel Webster give a speech, begrudgingly, to support the candidacy of Henry Clay. Webster was looking for the nomination. We were saved this time, his speech was only 2 hours long, over our dinner. We were blessed it was not one of his 5 hours speeches. His speeches are great at raising funds, just because people hope if they pay he might shut up.

After the speech William brought me to his table. He had a dark complexion, smelled of whiskey, had a hawkish nose, furrowed brow, and big bushy eyebrows above piercing eyes. This blue blood looked like a hawk puppet that would sit on White’s forearm. “Ahm!” he coughs and continues, “How may I help you sirs?”

“Daniel this is Henry Sinclair.”

“Charmed. How can I help you? Please sit,” he said while he had mutton falling from his chin as he filled his mouth once again followed by a huge swig of his brandy.

“I hear you have been pulled in for the prosecution, pro bono?” I inquired knowing the truth.

“Yes, the murdered man was the grand uncle of my daughter-in-law. Anything for the family. I see we have the right men behind bars,” he said laughing, looking for the rest of his compatriots at the table to follow.

Stephen returned and sat at the empty chair he had left, “Hello William. Sinclair.”

We nodded. “I would think you would have taken the nomination.” I jabbed.

“I would, but we wanted the Democrats to have a fair chance. Plus sometimes it is best to get more done as the man behind the throne.” said Stephen White in his regency jacket and vermilion tights he had just placed his napkin on his lap and pulled his chair in to the table.

“Too right Daniel. Have you had enough?” Stephen grinned which turned into a scowl as he seen Daniel fill another glass of brandy.

“Is Webster in the same seat that John Quincy was a few years ago when he read his speech at the opening of this fine hall 5 years ago,” I pointed toward Webster, “Is that the siege perilous?”

“Rest assure Henry...I will have my grail!” Stephen threatened. Was he talking about the presidency or what I have hidden in my tunnel below.

Stephen has taken over where Derby Jr. left off. Derby worked with Bulfinch and 158 people called the Salem Common Improvement Fund. They copied Bulfinch’s plan of building tunnels and sneaking the tunnel dirt into a large public work project.

In Boston Bulfinch took down the Tremont while building the State Capitol. It was quite dramatic. The first time a railroad was used to move heavy haulage. All the noise, whirling gears, the mass, the drama of removing three peaks off the largest hill in the Beacon Hill neighborhood and depositing it into the mud flats of the Charles River and its mouth. When everyone was looking at the train, they snuck the tunnel dirt in behind everyone. They removed three hills to fill in five ponds and a river in Salem on the Common. In Newburyport; Bartlet Hill and Frog Pond. In Washington. Capitol Hill and Washington City Canal; that time they dug a canal to hide tunnel dirt within the large amount of dirt that was being removed to build the canal.

Elias Hasket Derby Jr. became General Derby and put together the Second Corp of Cadets again. They dug the tunnels for him and took down the hills. They were stationed in the Franklin Building. When Derby left, Stephen took over the Cadets. To hide all the bricks needed for the tunnels he proposed with Joseph Story for the town to put in brick sidewalks.

Derby was a reluctant vampire. He was turned on a spiritual quest that began in India which led him to ancient tombs in Egypt. There he found one of the oldest vampires who perceived the power his family had within a new nation dawning.

Though when he went south, he went south. When he donated the land where his family’s mansion was for a new town house, they found all of his corpses. Stephen capitalized on his blood lust and directed him toward Federalist opponents.

Derby had taken one last trip to Europe to find a cure. He did not find one. Though he found a Basque in the Pyrenees; a Gypsy. He was taught a meditation practice and was sold 2,000 sheep. An animal he can drain before he had to slaughter them for the market. In time he found breeding them for wool generated a fortune in merino wool that sold better than the coarse American breeds. He would only drain those that were harvested for mutton. Only when he went senile did he go for human blood again.

Stephen. Could he be looking for a new vampire partner?

 

Chapter 17:

The Chapel

I needed to disappear for a while and reflect on things. So I took the ancient tunnel to my remote vault. It has been tricky keeping the other tunnels in Salem from crossing into this one which has been expanding since 1400. Originally we re-purposed an old lava tube off of the Collins Cove volcano where the Poor House is now.

That was adequate when we only had to worry about French ships occasionally sending rowboats to shore to trade with the Massachusetts. Being Scottish, the French respected the Old Alliance and left us be. When they noticed us at all. Then with John Winthrop and his Puritans, that cave was not safe anymore. We needed to dig further away from the coast and put in similar obstacles as we left in our tunnels on Oak Island.

Winthrop and especially his son, they were practitioners of dark alchemy and they had come to find the Philosopher's Stone. They heard it was part of the treasures we escaped from New Rochelle. They were followers of John Dee, once Court Astrologer for Queen Elizabeth. Through him and his son John Jr. (I know these New Englanders and their original names…) they will forge the ties between Hartford and Salem that culminate with Col. Putnam founding the first Mason Lodge in Connecticut, which William Russell controls now, to the Hartford Convention.

John Dee almost made another Philosopher's Stone that would rival the cup of Christ that was made from a stem rock that somehow fell from the sky. The cup that Christ drank from at the Last Supper was made from the same rock that was found around where Sodom was.

Dee never perfected using it, it would only change atomic structure when out of frustration he would throw it against the wall or other surfaces. Depending on the surface and how mad he was, in a still random fashion he could control what matter the stone would turn into. Unfortunately it never was gold. Lead sometimes.

Now Daniel Webster's niece married Charles Grafton Page. Page was a biologist and scientist. He is most famous for his electromagnet that could lift a 1,000 pounds and a failed electric train. What he really was up to was working with Webster and White to manipulate John Dee's stone that the Winthrop's brought to Massachusetts. Most of these secrets they were working on would be lost when Abraham Lincoln ordered Union soldiers to burn his laboratory down. Then a year after the Civil War, his most advanced inventions, including the magnet, would burn up in the Smithsonian. Another order found in Lincoln's will. That is another great story for another time.

The stone was a matrix of thin layers that of 2D substances folded close together to act in 3D which each could create holes that could capture as many or little electrons that could change the amount of the remaining electrons in its orbit without a nucleus. In effect making any atom and thus a molecule. Page was coming close in 1830 to figuring out how much voltage was needed to suck how many electrons into the holes. What would Webster, Clay, or White need of a National Bank if they could just make gold. Finding the Grail I had hidden would just have been easier for them.

Also when Page was discrediting the Fox Sisters, he stumbled on the fact they were not faking it. The sister named Margaret, began not believing in her sisters either, until. Her husband an Arctic explorer brought back a rock from the Tunnunik Crater. This strange rock was similar to the one from Sodom and John Dee's, but it could imitate thin images of those departed. It could make different souls from the past. Page almost stole this rock, but that is a story for another time and who he wanted to bring back.

I do truly need to stop teasing you with these fantastic tales and return to the one at hand.

So the truth of the Grail is, not only can it make gold from lead, but it can make the most pure soul. It could make Emmanuel Bar-Joseph once more. The Bloodline of Christ was more than what was carried in Mary Magdalene, which only made descendants, the Grail could actually make a clone of Christ.

Now who would ever want a doppelganger, I know for sure I don't...so I hide the stone so I won't have to deal with another me.

Then the Chapel resides under the foot of the Quarry pond off Lynn Road below Legs Hill. Don't go looking for it there now, I was forced to move again. Then I had a beautiful chamber with a glass wall looking into the bottom of the pond where I could relax and watch the Pickerel, Pumpkin, Bass, and Catfish swim by. Sometimes I could actually watch the major part of a cormorant dance that is lost to all who only see them from above who play a guessing game of where they will surface. How appropriate that swans would congregate here. I named the Chapel Loherangrin.

The Chapel held many items over the centuries I gathered from my Massachusetts and other Algonquian friends, Norse carvings, Celtic art, and Colonial handicrafts along with the Templar treasure that were hidden away in the room. I even had some Phoenician trinkets I found on the beaches of Beverly. Plus some Egyptian tablets from the Grand Canyon.

To move these things over the centuries I could always rely on my crew I sailed here from Orkney with. Oh they have died several times over the years, but they are all drawn back here to form our clan again. We did not all start out as family, though we are now.

In an instant upon first sight we recognize one and another. It is foggy at first for them, but I know. I then help them get in touch with their Akashic record. It is like immortality...sort of. Many times they are actually descended from themselves.

Nothing better than a bunch of brawny Vikings to move stuff.

Joseph Dixon and his underwater drill became helpful in moving the treasures in new fashions to the various hiding locations over the years. I was able to use his pencils to keep track of my inventory and all the locations I used to be in.

Tonight, I just sat and watched my aquarium and had partaken in my private horde of 'Chocolate Milk', until someone joined me in the Chapel. It was Caroline.

Chapter 18:

Caroline

She walked up behind me and laid her hands across my shoulders for a moment, tenderly, and touched my cheek as she rounded the couch. As she came in sight she had a smile and a sweet blush. She sat and nuzzled into me as my arm wrapped around her waist. "Hello, dear."

"Hello Henry. Look...there goes a cormorant; I love watching them. Never did like watching them gulp fish though. Arghhh," she said as she closed her eyes and gave a little quiver radiating down to her toes.

"It is not as bad as watching a Large Mouth Bass eating a snake, I once saw that through the glass while I was eating some hunter's stew; it was not pretty," I explained while looking very serious into her eyes and nodding.

"OK, enough," She said raising her tone with a smile. "So why are you here today?"

"I'll explain when we leave. Just let me sit for a while with you," I said as I laid my head against hers. She just remained quiet. Until she seen the cormorant again.

Just swimming.

Caroline Plummer was the last of her family. Her father, who died young, was a doctor and her mother was the sister of Theodore Lyman, a noted member of the Essex Junto and the Hartford Convention. Her cousin Theodore Lyman Jr. (Don't say it!) was the one who was sued by Daniel Webster for libel upon his mentioning Webster was at the Convention. So was he, so he should know! Also this was brought up again in the John Quincy letter. Lyman's attorney is now defending the Knapps in the White murder. Also William's cousin will be the judge in both cases. Webster still holds a grudge against Chief Justice Isaac Parker.

Two of her brothers traded in Archangel, Russia during the Napoleonic Wars. America was smuggling aid to Europe to fight Napoleon. This was the only port accessible to do so. They managed to survive the Russians penchant for draining vats of Vodka, but the youngest succumbed to French impressment, never to be heard from again. Ernest learning from his brother's mistakes remained in Russia till 1813.

If you recall, France invaded Russia due to this trade. They just didn't figure on the winter...

When Caroline was 43, Ernest died leaving her his vast estate he garnered from his smuggling. Along with a large fleet.

She has been around the world several times. Many adventures we have been on. Some relaxing, but most of them...dangerous!

Today she has just came back from Canton. She had spent the winter in Sumatra, until she heard musings of an international threat growing in China.

She explained, in response to a great evil and deaths growing in the Sino, a spirit rose up to protect them. It took over one of their own that was turning on them. It infested Howqua who had risen to be the most wealthy man in the world from the growing toll on his mother country. A plague effecting over 80% of the new generation.

The official Yuanfu, had cursed him to lust blood as much as he did silver. Also what he coveted the most, would become what he dreaded the most. For now only silver can kill him.

She learned all of this from the Knapp Brothers' sister who is married into the Low opium concern. "Her and another woman are infamous for sneaking into the world of men in drag. She is looking for news on the condition of her brothers, I have sent dispatches of what is know so far in town," she told me. Caroline has experienced plenty of loss during her life. First her father, and then the rest of the family, one by one.

"Yuanfu not only cursed Howqua, but New England herself. He created this monster to inflict as much pain and death that our traders have delivered on his country. Also those who were so addicted to the dragon that there was no humanity left were converted to Nosferatu as well and shipped to our shores," she continued with a veiled bravery. She was not the average woman, not much scared her, but these stories of Howqua with the vengeful spirit of a population in the hundred millions who have suffered great loss by those of our nation frightened her.

I then remembered what Dracula meant, son of the dragon. Which was appropriate for the crime we were guilty of.

Chapter 19:

Cannon Hill

Following behind Caroline's ship the Ezra, the Astrea sailed toward our harbor a day off of her arrival. Henry Prince's Revenue Cutter had come alongside her to check her cargo for the Custom House, when...vampires from below deck pounced and infested several of Henry's men before he broke free. He lost a quarter of his crew in that engagement.

Being a lighter and swifter ship Henry made it to port before the wind stopped. The Astrea sat listless off of the Misery Islands.

Now we could not count on the militia to outfit Fort Lee, Fort Juniper, and Fort Pickering. So Caroline rallied the youth. She had an army of children from 4 years old to 18 that she housed in her mansion from time to time that came from the working class families of Salem. They were eponymous called Caroline's Boys. Some could not return home, other's did not have homes besides hers. After her father's death her mother took in many strays in the neighborhood and Caroline just kept the door open after her mother's death.

Rowboats filled of these youths rowed across from Crowninshield's wharf to Beverly to man, or boy, the cannons.

There was no telling when the wind would fill their sails once more. The Astrea would have been the largest ship from Canton to sail to Salem in the last month.

Would sinking them in the harbor stop them?

Chapter 20:

The Return of the King

King Mumford had rallied the neighborhood around Knocker Hole. The African king had raided the Custom House of its silver through the tunnels to appear through Clifford Crowninshield's warehouse across the street from Pierce's Wharf. They had started large fires and placed Dixon's large crucible over the flame and brought many molds to form grapeshot. Cannons were made ready on the ship that were docked on the wharf.

We waited for the silver to melt.

We waited for the grapeshot to solidify.

We waited for the grapeshot to be brought to the cannons.

We waited for the tea to brew.

We waited for the cannons to be swung.

We waited for the cannons to be loaded.

The vampires still were stuck in the mud having a very, very, slow go of it.

King Mumford and his men opened fire. The shrapnel flew. It was like shooting squirrels in a barrel. What…

You would not mind me saying ducks, but you get upset if I say they shot squirrels?

With all the blood that god gave them and the blood they stole, once the tide was in the sharks would have no problem finding them.

If you looked in the distance where the depth was not affected by the tide we could see the seals leaving the water already.

I thanked Mumford and he just slapped me on the back and waved at his men who went all back through Clifford's tunnels in the back of his warehouse.

Caroline held my hand and swung around me with a whoop. I pulled her in and kissed her as we hugged for a moment. I then just caught one of her Boys bump into my rear. I grabbed him by the ear and gave him the look, he returned my wallet and smiled. He shrugged and joined Mumford into the labyrinth below. I was not sure what Caroline had been teaching them.

Henry Prince pulled up when all was said and done...and asked who would account for the silver that Mumford took.

That is a Federalist for you. Especially since it is only Democrats who pay duties in this town any-who.

Later we met Mumford at his saloon. Mumford, where most of the slaves who been here for generations did not know their nation of origin, Mumford did. He was brought her after the trade was banned. He was a runaway slave when he was 19, but since he was 14 he was a warrior prince of the Yoruba tribe from Benin. Not just Yoruba, but a Canaanite whose blood passed through Egypt. He was a powerful Grio. Slave masters sometimes get quite the shock from time to time when they purchase a general. Half of their plantation might just go maroon. Mumford took many on the trip north which ended in the tunnels of Hamilton Hall.

Remond and Mumford had great respect for one and another, but they found themselves on different sides of the fence politically. Remond ran the dark vote for the Federalist as Mumford ran the Democrat.

Remond was the first to greet him when he exited the cave and gave him his first shelter. Mumford will always be in his debt for that, but many times when Mumford found himself sitting with Remond, his sister, and Fredrick Douglas; Sarah would have to pull them apart as Douglas proselytized not wanting to mess up his hair which Sarah just coifed for him.

Douglas spent more time here blowing off steam from a very stressful life, more than he sat at John Remond's hearth. Even though Douglas would name his youngest son after Charles Lenox Remond.

Mumford offered me a Scotch ale and Caroline had an Irish whiskey. Just a constitutional after a good battle. She even drank less than me. I just hope she does not gather a taste for chocolate milk…

"Henry, I fear that is not the last ship. They are going to land anywhere the Northern Confederacy was. Will Burr provide them a port south of New York. He still has ties down to Maryland," Mumford asked. He had placed both hands on the bar and waited an answer.

"No old friend, Burr might be a scoundrel, but he is honorable.," I assured him. "If anything he can rally the Irish and the Dutch to oppose them at the docks. There is many Hessians who deserted into the NJ Pines he can bring to the front also. His western army has stood by ever since his capture. Plus the Pineys can keep them out of their harbor and everglades. He also has General Dayton to aid him in his endeavors who is quite capable," I paused before I continued. "It is Rhode Island and Connecticut I fear that would let them land."

"Though Joseph Bonaparte might let them have in roads from the Delaware around Bordentown. He is a friend of Clay and Webster. His tunnels are quite extensive which he can hide a horde in," I pondered. "Bordentown if you recall is the home of Admiral Lawrence whose funeral procession went through Boston."

"I remember I had seen that naval battle from the Old Burial Point in Marblehead," Mumford recalled.

"What magic can you help us with old friend?" I asked Mumford knowing he didn't like doing no spelling.

Now a spell, was no more than spelling. The writing of a

command. The trick was to get people to believe and act upon what you write.

Mumford mixed his letters and directions in his mind. This took away his focus. His spelling might of came slow, but it was powerful.

"Just don't rush me and I will work something out," said Mumford as he opened a hatch below the bar and stepped down into his laboratory below.

Chapter 21:

Release

In the Salem Gazette for the last week or so the headlines were about a sea monster in Swampscott that ate a man. On July 12, in a bay near Swampscott, Massachusetts. One sailor named Blaney was attacked and eaten by a shark. Later press concluded it was not a shark, but that "a sea monster of uncommon size and appearance" devoured Blaney. In the aftermath of this tale a Captain Blanchard, had killed two sharks and captured one that he put on exhibition. The sharks were described by the Boston Commercial Gazette by Blanchard as one being between 9 and 10 feet and the other 16 feet in length. In the end the sharks he killed had baleen and only ate plankton.

I was curious how a shark could eat anymore after that feast of vampires we left for them.

Then the news left behind the story about the sea monster. On July 20th Selman and Chase were released. The whole story about the robbery of the iron chest of Captain White just was not needed anymore. The only thing these two were being held for was for supposedly hearing the Crowninshield brothers talking about stealing that chest. The chest didn't seem that important since it was found intact with gold coins left on top of a dresser on the morning of the murder.

It served its purpose. Benjamin Crowninshield had bantered about an idea for running for governor, or even President. The headline in the paper of the 'Crowninshields Murder for Gold Chest' painted Benjamin as a politician that would steal our treasury or raise duties. Most people only read headlines. They didn't care if it was Richard & George Crowninshield or just Benjamin Crowninshield that the article was about.

Lemuel Shaw presided on the case. He was a friend of Daniel Webster.

On a humorous, or sad, note; later papers had said that when Col. Selman got home he found he only had the clothes on his back. Since someone conned his mother to sell his wardrobe. It sounded like something Long would do.

The Federalist papers ran stories about the ravings of a Rev. Colman. He was the Rev. of the Barton Square Congregational Church. Similar to the stigma of being a Federalist, there was one about being a Puritan after the Witch Hysteria.

Today those who descended from those who hanged the innocent now call themselves Congregationalist. Colman was going on about his divine inspiration that led him to find the led weighted club that the deceased Richard Crowninshield Jr. fashioned to murder Captain White. An angel led him to a chapel on Howard Street to find the murder weapon under a staircase.

The news went on about how he pulled conflicting confessions from the Knapp brothers who both claim they had killed the Captain without the other knowing. The headline read 'The Knapps Confess on White Murder'. Most didn't read the article again in town.

Come to find out Colman was the minister who married Joseph Knapp Jr. to Maria Beckford Jr. against Stephen White's consent.

Knapp's father sank further in debt. He tried to get hired to master a commercial venture to the West Indies, a short run so he can be back for his sons' trials, but after the headline no one would hire him. Plus Dexter's law fees were over extending his savings.

His daughter Abigail was married to William Lowe was in Lintin keeping tabs on Howqua for us. Lowe & Co. was a Boston firm who sold opium for medicinal purposes…

His youngest son, Nathaniel Phippen, was a Harvard Law graduate. He had been practicing for 4 years already. The court refused him from seeing his brothers. Though he has been working with Dexter creating a defense.

That was all of the news as of late, when Hawthorne knocked on my office door. My office was in the Stearn's Building on the corner of Washington and Essex Street across from Daniel Low's. I had set up a publishing company just under the offices of H.P. Ives & Co. They were the printers of the Salem Gazette (which the Crowninshield's just bought a press for), Essex Institute, and the Miskatonic University. I figured I have lived a very long life, filled with colorful characters that I should put many of them and their tales to pen. Plus I loved helping others develop their tales.

Little secret though, I am not the best editor. Well as far as grammar and punctuation goes.

Hawthorne leaned in to my desk on such an angle I thought he would of fallen over with his ear arched out at me and his eyes looking sideways pleading for a bone, "So what do you say Henry? I know you know more about what is going on. Hey?"

"About what particular?" I thought he was going to ask about the murder, the vampires, the politics, or the opium epidemic.

"What do you know about the Sea Monster. You always have weird things going on around you. Do you really believe it was a shark?" Hawthorne leered in for an answer. I truly thought now he was going to fall over.

"Nathaniel, I do not have the slightest idea about the sea monster. I have heard no stories about Krakens breaking free from other dimensions," I swore to him.

"If you did you would tell me, right?" Hawthorne asked as he spun on a heal and planted two hands on my desk stretching his neck like a crane, craning for an answer.

"No."

"Oh, if I find out your holding out on me...I will not share my Cuban cigars with you."

"Nathaniel, you know I don't smoke."

"I do...yeah I knew that," then he rounded back on me. "You're sure you know nothing?"

"About the sea monster?'

"Yes."

"No."

"Alright, tell me about what you know about the murder then," Hawthorne slumped down into my chair dejected and took out one of Dixon's pencils and a note pad. "Shoot."

Chapter 22:

A Dinner Invitation

July 25th, 1830

Henry Sinclair,

Please be my guest at 1 Ash Street tomorrow the 26th at 8pm for dinner and drinks. I have important news to share with you.

Bring a guest.

Truly,

Thomas Handasyd Perkins

I truly did not know what to expect of this. Thomas was a chess player. This dinner invite could lead me into trouble. Maybe, not right away, but if it took years, he would have this play out and profit from it. He was a very patient man.

Despite my reservations, I met him at his home and I brought Caroline. She was far more competitive than I was and would have a ball going head to head with him in logic.

The night came easily enough. As it does every night without the help of man or beast. Such a silly phrase…

Louie my cabbie drove us, "Now why would you two do such a silly thing like that. He is the dirtiest diaper at the bottom of the barrel at the orphanage for children of lepers and madmen." He was trying to talk us out of visiting his tiny manor. "His concern for humanity is as much the constellation of Orion has for the gunk I just found between my toes last night. I really do not know how it got there. It looked like horseradish. I have not had fish and chips in over a month. Then again I don't think I have changed my socks in that time either...even though I don't think you two should go in!" He paused and then continued even louder and faster, "Madam think of the Gentleman, he might get hurt!"

"You think I won't," asked Caroline with a grin and a sideward glance looking forward at Louie as he turned from his horses.

"I know better Misses."

"To right you do."

"I'll wait here for you," Louie said a bit nervously as he stopped at the manor.

Short Arm Tom greeted us at the door.

"Hello Short, have any trouble fighting girls lately?" Caroline dug into Thomas Jr. On several occasions he would have a go at Caroline, but she just kept on his short arm side and wiped the decks with him. Short Arm had fashioned himself as a boxer.

"Have you made it all the way through the rooms of the House of the Rising Sun yet? Picked a favorite?" Tom egged her. "I guess it is hard to be too discerning about ceiling tile."

"You ever have a hard time clapping? I guess you can only pat yourself on the back with one hand? Masturbating must be hard with your right hand, for your peanut is too small and your right arm can't just reach it," Short arm went for her as his father's loud commanding voice filled the manor.

"Junior! Dinner!" Yelled the elder Thomas. I believe he did not want to be a witness of another one of his son's embarrassing losses. There was good reason he was sending his nephews Bennet and John Forbes to Canton to settle the falling enterprise. The East India Tea Company had flooded the market and his opium prices were plummeting. The sales on the North Shore and Boston were not tiding the losses he was suffering.

We walked into the dinning room with Short Arm following from behind.

"Junior! Help the lady to her seat." Short Arm pulled out a seat for her and Caroline gave him a smile a sister would when she got away with harassing her brother and he just got whipped for starting the trouble.

"Thank you," Caroline said as she was having her seat pushed in for her. Maybe just a little too tight on purpose.

"Henry," said Thomas as he pointed to the head of the table opposite from his seat. "James a Clarinet. Oh something pre-Napoleonic say..." he said with a flair of the hands as he looked up towards James. "Henry, what may I get you? Caroline?"

"I will take a good Irish Whiskey and he will take a chocolate milk, if you can afford the chocolate?" She could be a pain in the ass at times.

"I will see what I can do. James," he said with a dismissive wave as he looked away in disgust from him. "Now to the reason I invited you. I have had a correspondence telling me that Howqua was behind my nephew death. It was blamed on the typhoon, but the letter informs me he was exsanguinated." Thomas leaned in low to the table, moved forward with his eyes lowered like a wolf and continued slowly, "Howqua had invited him to a pleasure cruise. The weather was quite fine I was told. It was especially calm that day on the harbor when they set out. "

"Now my family has had a special friendship with Howqua. He set up our manor. He runs our house. He smooths all out with his countrymen. He for the most part has adopted my favorite nephew John Cushing. He calls him Kooshing, as a term of endearment. I thought the oldest of the Forbes would have the same treatment. We never put up our guard with him," Perkins pauses before he continues and bolts right up in his seat and grabs the arms of his chairs and shakes them, "Then Yuanfu was finishing his rounds of China when he came to Canton. We appalled him, us barbarians. You could not bribe him. He wanted our balls!"

He sat down and continued as the blood started to drain from his face, "Howqua was in trouble. Our sales of opium could count for more than over half of the 80% of the youth who were addicted or dying in China. Howqua was the facilitator. He had profited so much that many thought he was the richest man in the world. Yuanfu was not going to let him slide after he had seen the mass burial pits of addicts as his liter entered the city and seen all the wealth spilling out of the Thirteen Factories."

He calmed down and sat further back in his seat, "Yuanfu didn't have to do any cheap tricks to rely on a fox for his magic. He had his own. They say when he met Howqua he didn't even let him speak or bow, he cursed him right there and then," Perkins stopped to clear something from his thought and wiped his mouth, "He was cursed with the thirst of blood that would replace his thirst of silver, for now silver was going to be the only thing that would be able to kill him. Yuanfu also made him the avenging spirit for his nation which he has unleashed upon New England."

Perkins paused once more and tried to recompose, "To make things worse Yuanfu acquired Judas' satchel that held the thirty pieces of silver. Vampires never forget about their kin before they are turned. The spirit of who they were remains strong enough to protect their family. Yuanfu gave Howqua the Judas' satchel right before he set out in the ship that had seen the end of my nephews life."

"Why do you tell us all of this?" I inquired.

"Opium is a temporary investment. The real power is in banking. I have close ties with Baring Brothers Bank; very close ties. Part of China's plan is to control our national bank. If that happens I am cut right out. I almost have controlling interest with Barings and I'm in control of the Federalists who are destined to hand our treasury to them. I put a lot of work into this effort to have the Chinese reap the benefit." Thomas said as he sat with his knees apart and looked down with his hands out to his side. Then he looks back up and continues nonplussed, "They are looking to out flank our economy. By devastating the resources of the poor through the poppy and to corrupt the wealthy by controlling the national bank they look to destroy the complacent that live in the middle. I was to hide the vampires within the deaths of the whores on Derby Street who got addicted to chasing the dragon, if I didn't they were going to kill my whole house in Canton and come to Boston next." Thomas then gives a little chuckle. "You know they say the most famous vampire was a Dracula which translates to son of the Dragon. Hmph, go figure."

Thomas smiles, "It was a good plan. If it worked here we were going to do it next in Connecticut and then New York."

"So once again, why are you telling us?" I ask.

Caroline just sat there smug, for she knew all of this already. I just shook my head at her.

Thomas just looks up at the ceiling, "I find myself torn. There is great wealth to be made, but they are threatening my family. They already killed one of my favorite nephews. I do have so many though. It is not that," he gives a perplexed look and does a flourish of his hands with his palms up before he drops them on his lap. "I just don't like loosing control!!!"

Chapter 23:

Death of a Judge

I was waiting for William within the Sun Tavern. I just had ordered a breakfast of flapjacks, blueberries, French toast, and chocolate milk. The waitress had just finished with my order when William sat down. She had asked if he wanted anything, but he just starred at me. The waitress, a bit nervous, just walked away.

"What is it William?" I compassionately inquired.

"I'm sorry, I just suffered a hard blow. A quite unexpected blow," William said now staring at me quite pale. "Its Isaac, my cousin, he is dead." William threw himself back and shook his head and waved his hand before his face, "It was not even three days ago he told me that he never felt better and he never missed a day on the bench. Today will be his first."

"I am sorry William, how did it happen," I was truly shocked. Isaac was a high Federalist, but he was a good man who avoided the Hartford Convention. I had respected him greatly. Also I had admired him for putting Webster in his place.

"They would not say. They are performing the autopsy as we speak. They will be announcing his death today in court during the trial of Frank Knapp, he was presiding on, today," William now threw his head in his hand and sat up again. "Twenty Seven days after the murder and he dies himself. He was fit as a horse, I can't believe he died on his own."

In the court that day they had a lengthy eulogy for Isaac Parker. The case of Frank Knapp was delayed to August 3rd.

The murder of Joseph White kept getting stranger and stranger. The principal in the murder hangs himself and the judge in the case dies the night before the trial.

On the thirtieth Daniel Webster comes back to town to become the prosecutor. His enemy has been removed, and Black Dan swoops in for the kill. There are already rumors Webster accepted $1,000 from Stephen White. The same amount he proposed to offer up as the reward for the capture of the murderer of his uncle. His reward combined with other donations to the Committee of Vigilance had equalled $2,700. By law the prosecutor was not suppose to receive compensation by people outside of the court, but Webster did many things he was not suppose to do as we will find out in the prosecution of the Knapp Brothers.

Webster still had to go against the lawyer he in all intents and purposes lost to during his libel case that Parker presided over. Franklin Dexter would give Webster a run for his money, if the trial was going to be fair…

It is most likely Webster would not have done well with Parker presiding. His death has now opened up the way for Webster to gain revenge for Stephen White.

There was talk that Governor Levi Lincoln Jr. and Dan had already picked Lemuel Shaw as the new Chief Justice. Shaw was married to one Elizabeth Knapp, who had died 8 years prior.

Webster was hoping he would preside over Frank's trial, but he could not. He already released Selman and Chase on the same murder. He would not be able to hear any other cases relating to Joseph White. Judge Putnam would preside.

In the future as Chief Justice, Shaw would rule on the George Parkerman-John White Webster murder where a Harvard professor who had studied the effects of poison on the body hacked up his landlord he owed money to shoving some of his body in a tea chest and the other parts he incinerated in the furnace at Harvard. Daniel Webster refused to prosecute this case.

Was he feeling guilty many years later about how he had handled the White Murder? PARKERman might of reminded him of Parker who died before hearing the case. John WEBSTER WHITE, reminded him of Stephen White's and his involvement in the results of the murder of White's uncle?

Also Shaw would hear the case of Cobb vs. Cobb where Henry Cobb sued for divorce against his wife Augusta Adams Cobb, for joining the Mormons. Eventually she married Brigham Young in a polygamous marriage. Augusta had come to Salem with Brigham Young's daughter to be taught by Nathaniel Felt. Brigham Young would learn about the murder of Joseph Smith when he was staying at Felt's house.

On the day of the murder of Joseph White was the beginning of the Church of Later Day Saints which Young would run.

Chapter 24:

The Circus

It was the first day of Frank Knapp's trial, August 3rd. Since technically you could not try him as an accomplice if they didn't prosecute Dick as the principal who committed the crime. So Dick's involvement was completely forgotten, for now Frank was the one who committed the murder leaving Joseph, his brother, the mastermind.

I wonder if more people turned out for the Lecture Day hangings each month during the Witch Trials or the Frank Knapp trial. The morbidity of people always surprises me after all of these years.

Some of Caroline's Boy's got to the court early and reserved seats in which they were selling outside of the court house. Plus do not forget all the watches and wallets they picked as well. Without Caroline's presence, they would all have been into much worse crimes by now. Sometimes we would argue over the value of harm reduction, I sided on fixing issues and not putting bandages on things.

The evidence on Frank was so slim that Webster was going to have to pull all his tricks out of his hat.

Throughout the trial Dexter put so many holes in Webster's sheets that his ship was dead in the water. By the end of the day. Frank was looking in good shape.

William and I went down to the Union Wharf to check on Joseph Knapp Sr. We went down past the Franklin Building and the Merchant Bank down a side street and walked behind the house Hawthorne knew when his father was still alive.

We crossed Derby Street and were about to enter the Knapp warehouse when we heard screams.

As we made it inside we found Phippen Knapp grabbing his father by the knees. He was hanging from his neck from the main beam above the opening to the second floor. I raced for a ladder and leaned it on the flooring above through the hole and cut the rope as William and Phippen held him. They laid him on his side and William ran to call for Gideon.

Phippen and I comforted the elder Joseph the best we could. Joseph just looked Phippen in the eye and kept shaking his head. He could not talk yet. He tried but only a fit of coughing was managed, but he kept shaking his head with reserve. "I don't believe he did this himself," said Phippen. Joseph nodded in agreement.

Gideon did arrive and Joseph refused any help from him. Phippen was sent out for Dr. Nathaniel W. Appleton, a student of the late Holyoke. Joseph kept having fits when Gideon came closer. He seemed stable otherwise.

"Gideon, I believe it would be best for you to leave," I suggested as I pushed Gideon a little and spun him with my hand on his shoulder as I steered him for the door. When we broke into the sunshine we seen Appleton rush in.

"Why was he acting so weird to you?"

"I have no idea Henry, maybe it was the shock of a failed suicide?" Gideon seemed so callous. This was a side of Gideon I have never seen before. "Henry, I do have to leave. Excuse me.' With that he got into his carriage that was parked out front and his man took him away up Union Street.

Joseph had regained his speech when I went back in. He was talking to Appleton about how he felt. Phippen brought me aside.

"I don't want Appleton to hear," Phippen continued. "My father confided in me that the Committee of Vigilance had strung him up."

"This is going too far. They have not answered to anyone these last 4 months. Many good members of the Democrats in town have left and sold their homes for Boston."

"He is not the only one, he just informed me that they tried hanging Maria also on the day when Joseph and Frank was arrested. My father found her and cut her down. I thought she just had a spring cold. Never thought the tall necks on her dress was covering wounds. The Committee tried lynching...her too," Phippen was quite angry as he stumbled on his words.

On the second day of the trial, Webster did not much better. Especially when rumors of Joseph White actually committing suicide by placing a dagger into his side under his arm. The only thing that kept Webster's case for the prosecution was the conflicting confessions of the Knapp brothers. Both had said they committed the murder alone from the other. The most believable was Frank's confession.

Rev. Colman was playing the Prisoner's Dilemma against the brothers. The one who was most moved was Frank. Coleman suggested that if he confesses that he had committed the murder it would be easier on him because he did not have a wife to support where his brother did.

In many reports it seemed that the Knapp brothers were drugged. They were depressed, listless, frantic, and delusional. Some wondered if Colman was dropping chemicals into their food and drink. Judge Putnam was not accepting any of their confessions.

By August 5th, Judge Putnam found a hung jury and dismissed the case for a new trial.

Chapter 25:

The Tempest

I was drinking some mead with my compatriots that sailed with me from Orkney. Granted I was the only one still alive from that time, but they all eventually remembered that life, once we met one and another again. It is funny how the universe pulls friends back together through the centuries.

Most of them were members of the Hibernian Fireman Insurance Co. Back then the town did not have a town fire co., different fire insurance companies gave you plaques upon paying your installments. A rival fire insurance company might see your house burning and just watch it burn if you didn't have their plaque on your house. If you did not have a plaque while your house was burning, many times houses burned down as fire insurance companies came to blows over who would sell you insurance before they put the fire out. My friends were the toughest and were able to settle many brawls before the houses burned completely down. They were the Democrats' favorite company.

Also drinking there that day was some of Caroline's older scamps. Many of the young adults in the bar not too long ago owed much to Caroline's kindness; some still bear the scars from her kicking their arse literally when they needed to be straightened up.

Kettell came up from behind and gave me another goblet of mead. We were drinking in the House of the Rising Sun. Lilly was in good spirits and bought, handed us many rounds. This was the way in which she paid for her fire insurance. She had the lucky plaque with the black rose above a shield with the clover on it.

One of Caroline's Boys came running in shouting about a fire, "English Street is burning!" The Hibernians all took one last sip, some tried to carry the glass out. Lily's girls made sure they gathered all the glasses before anyone left.

We ran down Derby to the northeast. We can see the blaze as soon as we left Lilly's. It is weird what your brain thinks about at times, I was thinking of how sweet the wood smells when it burns. On the corner of Daniels and Derby they entered their station and got their pumper and took the hoses down from the ceiling. The bucket brigade went ahead of us. They teamed up the horses and off we went.

This was their neighborhood, so no one looked for any plaques. They just went to the blaze. When we rounded the corner we seen members of the Committee of Vigilance torching the houses. We had to split up the company; a little less than half to fight and the rest jumped into the fire.

My back cracked and the blood ran to my eyes. I had seen red and I lost my ability for speech. All became a blur. I would not be conscious of anything for the next half hour. The Universe led my hand through the maelstrom. Everything becomes an assemblage of ideas, only major changes register. The rest is just rote. Just reaction to action.

From behind we seen the Orientals closing in on us. I was not sure if they would team up on us or it would be everyone for themselves. Caroline's Boys took to the windows from above (that were not on fire) and were shooting wooden arrows through the hearts of the vampires. Many had slingshots which they used the silver they kept for themselves from the naval battle on Pierce's Wharf. Other boys attacked with axes from the dock and parts of fences that did not burn in the fire.

They found it easier to attack the Vampires who were not that smart. They started out as hipsters smoking opium, not the fastest bunch. The Hibernians went after the Committee.

While I was swinging my cane sheath and sword against the Committee my goals was to dislocate their limbs versus severing

them by using my sheath and blunt side of my blade.

Out of the corner of my eye I had seen Gideon turning the corner on English and Essex heading toward the Franklin Building.

 

The fires were under control and the Committee retreated. Most of the Vampires had fallen. The rest retreated.

The Hibernians regathered. The injured gathered on Cousins Street. Workers came out of the factories and offered assistance.

Caroline's Boys just vanished. The local police detachment arrived. Not much good. For the most part they just roused drunks and sent them to the county jail. No surprise they showed up when everything was over. They probably watched the whole thing from the corner of Essex and English Streets.

Chapter 26:

Turncoats

I started looking into this murder with Gideon, but I have not spoken with him much besides on Union Wharf the other day. Knapp seemed perturbed by him. Granted he was head of the Committee in name only, or was he. Has he turned into Becket and became pious.

In the fighting, I could not tell if the vampires were helping the Committee or they just had their own objectives.

The Vampires are not good in battle, but they were still killing the forgotten men and women in town. In the alleys of Derby Street they were finding what the police was calling deaths by hypodermics. The vampires going for the forearms for the kill. It was not hard to kill these people who were in the dragon's fog. Some had died with smiles on their faces.

The opium was still flush in the streets. Similar stories were spreading in Lynn and Saugus. Rumors were also heard of within New Bedford.

King Mob was within his first year of his term and Clay has been already nominated by the National Republican for the next election. Clay was the rallying point for the old Federalists into a new party after being in hiding for 14 years after the failed convention in Connecticut. White was the head of the party for Massachusetts. Their war chest was heavily funded by Perkins' opium sales and his connections with Barring Brothers. Barings had been influencing our nation since the Bank of North America. One Baring married Thomas Willings' daughter who controlled the First National Bank. They held the note on the Louisiana Purchase. They held many of the notes from Congress for their

budgets through the two national banks. What they did not hold, Peabody and the Rothschilds did.

Need I inform you that who holds the money holds the nation?

Also Masons throughout the country were being attacked after Captain Morgan's disappearance. The rumors of the Westford Knight and the Templar Cross on his tunic on the granite slab was heading these Anti-Masonics hunting our treasures in Salem. They would be here soon. They also had their presidential candidate in the wings.

Also I heard some Mormons were coming into town looking for the treasure Joseph Smith was looking for within Salem. I am not sure what to make of them. They mention Christ coming to America and preaching to the Natives. Were they confusing the stories of me when I was called Glooscap? Either way it was the same treasure they were looking for. Ancient religious objects would give them credibility and wealth. Things any new religion needs.

How does any of this connects to the White murder? If the Knapps and Crowninshields are innocent, why was Webster so driven for them to hang?

Were they innocent?

Chapter 27:

A Blur

I went up to the prison on St. Peter’s Street. Walking down the road it made me laugh, I always thought Peter should have been in that jail for what he did to Christianity. A pebble that Rome turned into a boulder. I was on the way to talk to the Knapp’s and the remaining Crowninshield.

The Jail Keeper Nehemiah Brown let me in and brought me to George’s cell first. The prison was a mixture of aromas arising from the flesh held in cells without ventilation. This was mixed with the smell of excrement that festered in buckets in each compartment mingled with urine. Some of the feces was under my feet from some prisoner dousing a guard on his rounds. In some cells were pools of dried blood from a guard’s retaliation. Stephen White was part of the governor’s prison reform board.

I looked over the balcony and seen some prisoners roaming the open floor below. Some had fashioned slingshots to shoot the rats; as they fell from the balconies many of the other prisoners would let out a cheer. To my right were the cells. On the third floor was where the women were kept till they were moved to the farm in Middleton.

“Here he is,” Brown said as he turned the key. “Crowninshield! Visitor.” he swung the door open and let me in. The door swung shut behind us.

We both had to sit on his cot. “Mary sends her respects,” I told him.

“She still remembers me. I thought I was just another client,” George said with surprise and a grin on his face as he was brought back to a time and space outside of his cell.

“She says she will testify for you on your whereabouts on the night of the murder. So will Maria who heads the house,” I assured him.

“Too bad my trial will be heard last. I still have to fester here till after Joseph’s and Frank’s trials,” George paused before he looked me in the face and asked, “How are the Knapps?”

“I have not seen them yet. I do hear they are in a stupor like state. Colman has had them both sign contradicting confessions he has written for them.” Then I asked, “Could there be any truth to their involvement? First we are led to believe your brother did the murder. Then Frank is indicted to have committed the murder with Richard. Then another time to have done it himself. Then we have a confession by Joseph that he did the murder?”

“Them boys are not accustomed to violence. They did tell me they appreciated your assistance the night you saved them at Wenham Pond. It was quite kind of you to allow them to save face and say they resisted the attack on their own,” He looked at me and smiled. “When we took our romp to New York where me and my brother had cousins, me and my brother took to some brawls and the Knapps kept to the side. Stephen accosted Joseph for not being looser with the lash on his sailors on several of his voyages for his firm. I can’t believe them boys had anything to do with any of this. I do believe Palmer had a hand in this all. He is mentioned to be the culprit in all of the blackmail letters. Where is he now?”

“Palmer?”

“Yes, in one letter he called himself Grant. Then another name in another. I hear the handwriting in the two letters going to White were the same...but the one to the Knapps was in another hand.” Crowninshield continued with this revelation, “It was said that the Committee did go on to Maine to look for him.”

“So did they find this Palmer?”

“I am not sure. My brother before they found him hanging kept yelling at someone in the cell above him. Palmer had worked in our father’s machine shop. He was a tough. Not all there either,” Knapp said with one eye staring at me.

Brown returned and took me to Frank’s cell.

The door slammed louder than George’s. There was no cot. Frank was on the floor in a huddle of blankets. He showed signs of violence. I tried to approach, but he huddled tighter. I came from the side of him and lifted his covers. He was emaciated with a stare resembling someone who has gone beyond the pale, the pale of this life. He resembled many who had ventured into the ring and fell into the realm of the sidhe. I do not believe he was pixelated, but a hand of man has definitely had done something to his mind. He showed signs of punctures in his forearm. His behavior was different than many along the waterfront though. They just seemed sleepy with a haze over their minds. Frank seemed tormented by invisible wraiths that was attacking his being. He did not see me, I was no more than a threat in the shadows ready to pounce at any time. A promise of a hobgoblin.

When Brown slammed the door with all that force, the door bounced without the latch catching. I did not notice this till after. Someone closed on me from behind.

The room was full of smoke.

The smoke hung like the belching of the SS Susanna chugging into Liverpool on a fall evening as the gas lanterns’ exhaust tried to obscure the flumes of her smoke in its own haze. A window seemed to be open in an end wall, but the smoke didn’t move. As if the belch was frozen in time. I had never seen the room before. There were bars across the windows.

My mind was a haze, thoughts were as clear as people in the distance in a London fog. I felt as if Sandman had deposited a whole year’s worth of tiny aggregate, not all at once, but over an extend period. My bones must of felt the same way when Rip woke up. The smoke was the strangest thing.

I lay on my back and found pictures within it. I seen to the left and right my forearms pierced with ingots. A man came from below and stabbed my side with long spear. Then larger than life was Long, or whatever he called himself laughing with his greasy sneer. He was all head and teeth.

Then out of the smoke I seen a burning castle where men in white tunics with crosses where loading a cart in the keep. Then a whale painted with pinstripes flew past me with the equivalent of a bumble bees wings on its back fluttering like mad pulling a Nantucket sled with Kettell holding the rope attached to the spear waving at me.

After a long time I took a deep breath that hurt my lungs. I yelled: “Fire!” That made me laugh. It was not my laugh, it was a laugh of another; which only made me laugh even harder. I lay there on the bed and continued till I split a stitch in my side and I saw roses spill out with tiny locusts smoking even smaller hookahs. I didn’t like the sound of the laugh. It was the laugh of a nut.

The one yell was enough. Steps thumped rapidly outside the cell. It sounded like a stampede of hippopotamuses, but still distinctly I could tell it was only made from two feet. A key was jammed into a lock and the door swung open. A man jumped in sideways and shut the door after him. I swore he just danced a jig, but by the look on his face, I don’t think he ever danced in his life, but I still swear I seen him do one in the flash of a second. His right hand reached toward his hip.

He was a short thick man in a jailer’s wools, they even wore in summer. His eyes had a queer look, black and flat. There were bulbs of gray skin at the outer corners of them.

I turned my head on the hard pillow and yawned. I looked back at the pillow to find it to be a large rat that showed it teeth. I blinked, it was a pillow.

“Don’t count that one, Jack. He slipped out, the rat. I’m not sure if he was ever here?” I said.

He stood there scowling, his right hand hovering towards his right hip. Greenish malignant face and flat black eyes and gray white skin and a nose that seemed just a shell. I could see the real demon that walked in his skin. I also can see in the corner of the eye, the image of the man who used to own that body frozen within a fright the second before his possession.

“Jack was a fine one, but he might be quick, but he was not nimble to jump past you who snuffed out his candle stick,” I said waving at Jack in the frozen corner of his eye.

“Maybe you want some more Clobbering Time,” he sneered.

“I’m fine. Say hi to Jack for me. I’m Just fine. Had a long nap. Dreamed a little, I guess. Where am I?”

“Where you belong.”

“Seems pleasant enough,” I said. “Nice people, nice atmosphere. I especially like the drapes. So soothing, I guess I’ll have me a short nap again.”

“Oh...alright,” he snarled.

He went out. The door shut. The lock clicked. The Hippos went on their way.

He hadn’t done the smoke any good. It still hung there in the middle of the room, all across the room. The London Fog didn’t dissolve, didn’t float off, didn’t move, but the belch from the steamship was in another location, motionless. I thought if I looked the other way it would shift; I did and looked back quick and I was not quick enough to see it move an inch, but it did.

There was air in the room, and I could feel it on my face. But the smoke couldn’t feel it. I wondered how they had got them to work together, the fog and the stack. Who got them to work against me? Was it arranged over a dinner table in Chelsea that the March Hare worked with the Hatter to have these two sit together and connive to work against me to steal my marbles before the Hare stole the sugar cubes.

Coarse, rough material. My clothes were gone. They made me feel like I was home, or at the least one would think this was my home for quite sometime. I even smelled like the best of them. The neck chafed my throat. My throat was still sore. I began to remember things. I reached up and felt the throat muscles. They were still sore. Just one Indian, pop.

The throat felt sore but the fingers feeling it didn’t feel anything. They might just as well have been a bunch of balloons. I looked at them. They looked like fingers, but they felt like they were floating. No good. Mail order fingers.

It was night. The world outside the windows was a black world. I was tired of the smoke. As I stared and it took on more shapes. I seen Caroline’s Boys shooting guns at me with soft fluorescent corks.

One of the corks made me wink and the scene shifted to an ugly woman riding a bicycle peddling fiercely, riding a gust of wind, standing in place till all that potential energy kicked into gear and found its destination skipping the journey in the middle. A house swirled by my head and I ducked.

A mouse looked up and asked which way it was to Albuquerque. I pointed to my left. It tipped its hat and thanked me before scurrying into the duster as well. A Rhino in a bellboy’s suit opened his lips and sneered, “Would you like your steak rare or medium, sir?”

I closed my eyes tight and winked them hard and when I opened them again it was just a bear dancing the jig. Nothing to be alarmed about. I did check to see where my feet were, worried if the bear might have danced on them. It did look like he had two large left feet. Then I saw mine and they were larger than his and quite flat, it seemed I was too late. The bear already danced on them. They started to feel like balloons too.

But the smoke still hung motionless in the moving air.

I took hold of the corner of a rough sheet and wiped the sweat off my face with what I thought were my fingers, they could have been bananas, who was I to say...

Nuts. Completely nuts.

I sat up on the bed and after a while I could reach the floor with my feet. They were bare and they were still flattened by the bear.

I didn’t look, but they felt that way. Notions counter on the left, madam. Extra large safety pins on the right.

The feet began to feel the floor. I stood up. Too far up. While I was up there I tasted the cheese on the moon, too sharp. I crouched over, breathing hard as I found my head at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and held the side of the bed from the top of the ridge and a voice that seemed to come from under the bed said over and over again: “Where on a mission from God...”

I started to walk, wobbling like a drunk.

Time passed— an agony of nausea and staggering and dazedness and clinging to the edge of my mind that was making animal sounds thinking it was being useful.

It passed. I staggered back to the bed and lay down on my back again and lay there panting, watching the smoke. The smoke wasn’t quite so clear. Not quite so real. Maybe it was just something back of my eyes. And then quite suddenly it wasn’t there at all and a light etched the room sharply.

I sat up again. There was a heavy wooden chair against the wall near the door. There was the door the hippo in wool had come in at. The walls were painted white. A clean room. The bed on which I sat was narrow, lower than they usually are, and there were thick leather straps with buckles attached to the sides, about where a man’s wrists and ankles would be.

It was a swell room — to get out of.

I had feeling all over my body now, soreness in my head and throat and in my arm. I couldn’t remember about the arm. I rolled up the sleeve of the inmates pajama thing and looked at it fuzzily. It was covered with pin pricks on the skin all the way from the elbow to the shoulder. Around each was a small discolored patch, about the size of a quarter.

Opium. I had been shot full of dope to keep me quiet. Perhaps something special Colman had got from White’s laboratory too, to to give it that extra zing...

Too much of the dragon for the time. I was having the French fits coming out of it. Some do, some don’t. It all depends how you are put together.

That accounted for the smoke and the voices and the screwy thoughts and the straps and bars and the numb fingers and feet. The mouse, oh I have seen him before. I hate to say, quite often.

I stood up and almost hit the opposite wall with my stomach. That made me lie down and breathe very gently for quite a long time. I was tingling all over now and sweating. I could feel little drops of sweat form on my forehead and then slide slowly and carefully down the side of my nose to the corner of my mouth. My tongue licked at them foolishly.

I sat up once more and planted my large flat feet that the bear danced on and stood up. “Alright, Henry; at least I think that is your name,” I said between my teeth. “You’re a Berserker. Six foot bear of a man. One hundred and ninety pounds stripped and with your face washed. Hard muscles and no pudge. You can take it. You’ve been struck down, had your throat choked and been beaten half silly. You’ve been shot full of opium and kept under the dragon’s wing until you’re as crazy as two waltzing mice, and one who was lost. And what does all that amount to? Routine. Now let’s see you do something really tough, like putting your pants on.”

Then it was him again, the rabbit. Well he liked the rabbit shape, but I knew he was a Pooka, “Well if it is not Harvey, my old drunken friend,” I paused and looked up into nothingness to where one who would have been seven foot two would of stood in front of me. Well I had seen him, even if you never had.

“Henry, they sure did….Fuuuuck You up!” Harvey laughed. “How do you expect to get out of this one?”

“You would not have a cake with a file in it would you old friend?” I inquired. “You were that little mouse weren’t you...”

“So have you figured anything out about this murder yet?”

“I know the Knapps and Crowninshields are innocent, but the Knapps were doing something criminal for the Whites involving Perkins. That is the mystery. Crowninshields brought in to ruin their uncle’s nomination for president. Also a consolidation of power in town. The Committee to hammer that power home are having the Democrats flee to Boston, thinking they will be murdered next, and beyond to leave the Federalists with all of the cake. Perkins is bringing in the opium after the bottom of the market fell out in Canton to flood America, as always opium funds the coffers of the political parties war chest for their campaigns and bribes they need to fulfill afterward. Though, Howqua I would believe would be sending these vampires to kill him and his likes. What deal is worked out between them? Does Thomas believe Howqua will keep his end up and let him live?” I paused and cleared my throat before I continued, “This White murder does not seem to fit with anything. It seems like a scene just stuck in so the stage director’s daughter can get her 15 minutes of limelight”

“Yes there are grand stories going on and I agree with you Henry that the murder just does not coalesce with the rest of the epic,” the over seven foot rabbit in tweed agreed with me. Which is strange, since he usually was quite contrary and loved brow beating me.

“Oh, alright. We will skip right past the fact you agree with me onto more important notions...Joseph White was in a similar stupor for months before his murder. His wits left him long before his breath left his body for the last time. Had Stephen anything to do with that?”

“Now you are learning, my little locust,” with that he vanished in the smoke.

I lay down on the bed again.

Time passed again. I don’t know how long. I had no watch. They don’t make that kind of time in watches anyway.

I sat up. This was getting to be stale. I stood up and started to walk. No fun walking. Makes your heart jump like a nervous cat. Better lie down and go back to sleep. Better take it easy for a while. You’re in bad shape, pally. Alright, Henry, if that is who you are, I’m weak. I couldn’t knock over a flower vase. I couldn’t break a fingernail.

Nothing doing. I’m dancing. I’m tough. I’m getting out of here.

I lay down on the bed again.

The fourth time was a better go of it. I got across the room and back twice. I went over to the window. I held on the bars and had some fresh air. It was like a fine steak with a glass of chocolate milk.

You drink what you want to drink, I will drink what I want to drink. This was my illusion. Where you in it?

I walked. I walked. I walked.

Half an hour of walking and my knees were shaking but my head was clear.

I walked back to the bed. It was a lovely bed. It was made of a velvet bag filled with chocolate milk. It was the most beautiful bed in the world. They had got it from Caroline. It was too soft for her. It was worth the rest of my life to lie down in it for two minutes. Beautiful soft bed, beautiful sleep, beautiful eyes closing and lashes falling and the gentle sound of breathing and darkness and rest sunk in deep pillows with Caroline stroking my hand at the edge of a beach in the West Indies saying, “Poor, poor Henry. Poor, poor Henry.” At least I thought that was my name.

I walked.

They built the Pyramids and got tired of them and pulled them down and ground the stone up to make concrete for the Dam on Collins Cove, which never happened, and they built that and brought the water to Sunny Lynn and used it to have a flood with.

I walked all through it. I couldn’t be bothered.

I stopped walking. I was ready to talk to somebody.

Chapter 28:

The Escape

"Hello, Mr. Cockroach. Can you show me the way out of here?" I asked as I was sitting on my haunches. At least I think I was talking to a cockroach. With the state of mind I was in, it could have been a ball of lint. It did move occasionally, but that could be the draft.

"Henry," was said in a hush.

"Mr Cockroach, you are real and not a ball of lint. Can you show me the way to go home, I had a drink a half hour ago and it went straight toward my head," I started to sing.

"Henry, if you stop talking to that cockroach we can show you the way out," Jimmy Tooker said within an aggravated hush.

The door quietly opened and I stumbled my way into it. Then I righted myself and started back into the cell, Jimmy took me and spun me. He was one of Caroline's Boys. In the corridor was five others. They managed to get some of the inmates uniforms.

Prisons were filled with kids, there were no orphanages in Salem. It was cheaper to lock them up or stick them on Bulfinch's poor farm. These kids snuck in and out of the prison through the tunnels. They made some extra cash smuggling tobacco and rum in. Sometimes papers.

We were on the top floor where they hid top level or government detainees. Also those whose crimes that were so horrible that they could not be put inside the regular population. As we went past the cells, one spoked out. "You are that Sinclair guy. I have heard about you. Colman had special plans for the likes of you," he said in a menacing way.

We could not see his face. He spoke from the shadows. "Nobody knows. On the other hand: A horse has no udders and a sow can't whinny and up is down and sideways straight ahead. Where these Knapps will fall no one knows," then he laughed the most eerie and bizarre laugh. "I will be coming for you next."

I stopped to stare at him. The boys spun me around pushed me onward. I was still out of it, but I could hear him sing:

"Lead pipes keep falling on my head

But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red

Crying's not for me

'Cause I'm never gonna stop the blood by complaining

Because I'm free

Nothing's worrying me"

I found myself singing a complimentary refrain:

"Puppies are falling on my head

And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed

Nothing seems to fit

Those puppies are falling on my head, they keep falling.."

My feet where still flat useless pancakes after the last bear dance. I could still hear the organ grinder the bear danced to.

We just had to get off the third floor. On the other floors the guards knew the boys and they would let them through. The fact they did not know me, was good. It was a small prison. Everyone knew everyone. If they didn't know me, they knew I did not belong and they trusted the boys to sneak me out. Colman almost seen us, but one of the inmates dropped a bucket of shit on him. We just walked right by. The next two floors were no problem.

We went through the kitchen onto the boiler. We opened the cell door that led to the tunnel. We passed a few cells and the shackles on the wall. We headed past the Sheriff's house entrance and went under St. Peter's Street past the palisades. We were lucky they were open and we exited through Carpenter's house across from the jail. Mrs. Carpenter just looked up from her darning for an instant, said hello, and went back to darning.

Louie was waiting for us with his carriage. Caroline helped me into the back. I slumped my head on her breast and just smiled before I passed out, snoring.

Later I found out one of Caroline's Boys seen Colman carrying me unconscious upstairs. They knew in an instant I would be in trouble. Few went out to tell Caroline while the rest made their plan for my escape. I did find out, later, it did cost them some rum they had to give to few of the lower floor guards to let me on through. Chandler's rum, I wish it was only his rum that made this crazy nightmare I had. I bought them all a pound of gibraltars. Well they were still kids, they preferred them to rum any day.

I was brought to the House of the Rising Sun where Lilly could hide me from society till I was right again.

It was a tough three days. The only thing I remembered of it was Harvey, the Pooka, laughing at me from the shelf above the dresser. He was so small! As small as the mouse who lost his house.

I thought he was sitting up there with a moose and a goose, and this little nobody.

Chapter 29:

The Consult

When I came down from the rooms, Lilly had just set up the Hibernians with another round. They stood vigil protecting the house from anyone who might have been looking for me.

William had been waiting for me these last past days. "Henry, what did you learn?"

"They have Palmer on the third floor. As I remember, he was not the best singer. I think, lot of it is still a fog. I think I met a talking cockroach..."

"Palmer. Nobody knows what had happened to him after he disappeared from Portland. Nasty bloke that one was. For some strange reason the Crowninshields tried to straighten him out."

I leaned in to William and said, "There is talk he was Richard Senior's oldest son before his drunken spree in New York City. He used to run a house that some of Lilly's girls worked in prior. She was a young girl at the time, only thirteen. A year shy of being of age of consent," I continued and sat upright. "When she seen Richard come to town with a new Irish lass in tow, she kept quiet for a while. Then she could not take it any longer being in poverty as he flashed his great Crowninshield money around made by his father, which he was squandering. Why not squander some on her and her babe. So in silence he did, but he had nothing personally to do with the two till Palmer came looking for work. He had never seen him before. Then one day Palmer told him who he was."

William interjected, "So I assume he might not of had the best intentions for George and Richard. Them being legitimate with their dandy clothes and all. Especially Dick who was his father's favorite."

"No. The boys dug up some gossip while looking for me in the prison. They heard stories that Dick knew Palmer was in the cell above him and taunted him for being a bastard. He also made references that George and himself, on multiple occasions had their way with his mother in Maria's house. His mother is the one who is standing George's alibi when his trial comes to," I paused before telling the worst part. "Little did Dick know that they were going to let Palmer down and into his cell. Palmer was given Dick's pride and joy, the two scarves from the Netherlands he wore throughout town. It was his signature. Palmer twisted them together and fashioned a rope.

Colman and one of the third floor jailers, I think he was a hippo, held Dick back as Palmer tied the noose and connected it to a low window grating. The two lifted his ankles behind him as Palmer shoved down on his shoulders in quick succession. There was a break, but it was not clean. He was slowly suffocating to death. If he lived he probably would not have walked again.

When Brown found him he called for the prison doctor. They could not feel a pulse, so they used galvanic batteries to raise his heart. Nothing. He was still.

If you can believe it, Stephen walks into the room. His excuse, that day, to be in the jail was that he was working on the Governor's commission. Walks right in and slits his throat. He just said, 'The same with him as my uncle. The story is we slit his throat to see if he was alive. For if your dead, you don't bleed.' As Stephen was cleaning the dirk, Dick was bleeding out. Now he was choking on his blood, or what at least could make it through the blockage.

Stephen laid a letter on his cot; a confession of sorts and a remorseful begging for others not to live a similar life as he did. The most striking part of the letter, was it asked for no autopsy to be done. As you well know from talks with your cousin Isaac before his passing, there was no autopsy or inquest into Dick's murder. Plus they say the handwriting on the suicide note was the same as the Knapp blackmail letter."

"Completely shocking, Henry! Stephen owns the prisons and the courts. Those Knapp boys will not have a chance. You say Frank seemed to be on the same drug you were, but far worse," William paused before he asked with concern, "You believe Frank would be ever normal if he was to be set free?"

"I fear not, but there is always a chance."

"What about Joseph?"

"I was drugged and captured before I ever got to see him."

"I heard the boys mention before you awoke that they moved Frank to the third floor as well. Nobody will be able to see him again before his trial."

Perkins then came through the door. "Henry, I need to speak to you in private," he said while staring at William. William got up, ready to knock him upside his head with his cane.

William usually looked like a scared badger, but you never wanted to corner a scared badger as well, if you knew what was good for you. "William, go with the Hibernians. I will join you soon." Lilly poured him a port. Perkins was a visitor of the floors above, but infrequent and Lilly had learned his drink, begrudgingly.

"There has been a turn of fates as of late. My nephew John Murray has been captured by Howqua. He is forcing me to hide the vampires within the opium dens I am to create throughout Boston and Salem. Cushing is done with me," Perkins paused as if he was bracing himself for a painful omission, "He was too successful, but he had a weak stomach. He resigned from selling when he seen some boy lying dead in gutter with his pants hanging low exposing his hip which was calloused, the mark of a follower of the dragon.

His mother lay their crying. He was conflicted. He wanted to help, but he noticed our family stamp on some wax paper we used to wrap the resin in that just blew out of the boy's pocket. He jumped a schooner the next day and headed for New York City," Perkins said with disgust. "I raised him after his parents died and he insults me by growing up weak! John Murray is vicious, he will not fail me and our company. If he survives.

He is my only hope as my heir now. I have had a sudden turn in my health and with the pressure from the Chinese on the bank, I do not know if I can complete my plans during my time here. I need John alive to finish them. In the end there is an advantage to family to be held."

"Why are you telling me this?" I inquired.

"Because I believe in the old ways of war. I might of alluded that we were working for the same goals...There must always be a formal declaration of an end to a truce," he said as if two men of honor were speaking to each other. Like old times when generals on two opposing sides could have a respite and a drink together in great comradeship before dawn when they took up arms again and tried killing each other once more. "We will be after your blood." He finished his port with one last gulp and turned for the door where his carriage and his men were waiting to escort him safely out if the Hibernians had any cause to do any bodily harm to him.

 

Chapter 30:

Take Two

Frank Knapp had come to the morning of August 14th to the stand, a second time, on the charges of murder. He looked like he was just waking from a long daze. The sun seemed to hurt his eyes as he was brought into the court.

Daniel Webster had enough time to work the Federalist newspapers against Knapp. The majority of the press was written by Lorenzo Knapp. Hawthorne writing for the Salem Gazette was not winning over support for the Knapps. The Committee had been burning papers as of late. Some have sent the Hibernians out to extinguish some close calls.

The trial lasted 6 days, compared with the first that lasted two days. The jury came back with the answer of guilty of murder. He was to be hanged as the murderer on September 28th. Did Richard Crowninshield die in jail for nothing? The court was now claiming Frank Knapp committed the murder and not Richard?

Later I heard news that Mary Beckford Knapp survived a second hanging on the day of her brother-in-law’s sentencing. Frank is in a stupor again and asks to die instead of staying any longer in that prison.

Within the week the town forgets about Frank, for a few days at least, when we read that a locomotive, Tom Thumb, races a horse drawn car from Stockton and Stokes Stagecoach Co. from Baltimore to Elliot Mills Maryland. Due to mechanical failures, the horse won. Many believe our horse railways in Salem will be safe into perpetuity. George Peabody puts his wager on Tom Thumb, he tells Alexander Brown that year. Or at least the future of steam engines.

Then on September 9th we read that Charles Durant, 1st US aeronaut, flies a balloon from Castle Garden, NYC to Perth Amboy, NJ. He has flown further than the French. George Peabody does not believe air flight to be much a threat to the passenger train in the future. Ignores this story completely…

September 17, we read of John Quincy Adams leaving Quincy to take part in Boston’s 200th Anniversary celebration. A brave move since many Federalists have turned on him. Especially the Essex Junto. In many parts they talk about the new Three Wise Men: William Sullivan, Harrison Gray Otis, and Thomas H. Perkins. The last of the Federalist Party leaders.

Many already defected to the Democratic Party or the new National Republicans. Perkins stood in between the Federalists and National Republicans. Quincy defected and lost the White House to the Democrats. Plus that letter…

Sullivan, Otis, and Perkins were 3 of the 6 members of the secretive fraternity called the Saturday Night Fish Club. Do I need to say it?

Definitely something fishy was going on in that club...

Though who were the other 3 members? Some mention Benjamin Joy (First diplomat to India under Washington), General David Cobb (aide to Camp to Washington, friend of Timothy Pickering), and President of Harvard John Thornton Kirkland (Hasty Pudding actor). Most likely not these men. I needed to find out who were the secret 3.

Also I needed to lay a plan out for the Knapps.

I was walking down Central Street past the old Essex Bank built by Bulfinch, now it housed the Commercial Bank, to the White family wharf. A ghost sign was still available to read, ‘Joseph Jr. & Stephen White & Co.’ on the side. In front it read ‘Stephen White & Co.” The old sign must have been from the days in which his brother was still alive and holding all of his Bacchanal parties. He had the best wine cellar in New England, and he was generous with it.

Me and Kettell went to see what news we can find on Stephen’s wharf. I could not believe his dock handlers were being paid well. Could be some disgruntle employees?

They did not seem happy in their job, but no one talked to us. If I had to estimate it was from resentment of us, or fear of retaliation from White for talking to anyone, I would bet on fear.

I first thought of going to my bank and withdrawing money to bribe some of the wharf rats, but I thought better of it. I still needed to make a withdrawal and we just happened to pass my bank, the Commercial Bank.

We walked inside and we seen all the tellers inside rushing here and there. We went up to the Payson the head cashier. “What’s happened Edward?”

“Our books show we are $100,000 short. We just found a clerk who had embezzled from us. We checked his residence, there is no sign of extravagance. In fact we found him in one of the opium parlors on Derby Street in shabby clothes. He might of stolen it. He might not of. He might of stolen it for someone else?” Payson says with a shrug. “Sorry for the maelstrom...how can I help you.”

“Can you afford $5? I want to take my friend out for a luxury meal and have some cash for the next week.”

“We can afford that.”

“Were anything else disturbed?” I had used their vaults connected to the tunnels to store religious and magic items before moving to The Chapel.

“No, everything is fine.”

Why was I still worried though…

We went to the Old Billy Gray mansion, now the Essex Hotel and had a fine meal on the porch. Billy Gray was a director of the First National Bank in Boston. He was a Federalist till others in town asked him to leave for his support for the Embargo Act. My bank started in the Central Building he had built in 1811. It also served as the Custom House, it was filled with tunnels. He might have been bribed by Baring Brothers too, but his falling out with the Federalist kept him out of the Second National Bank. His kindness in Salem was well known for his feeding of the families of sailors affected by the Embargo. Five years ago he died in Boston as the richest man in America.

McMann who ran the Essex Hotel came to serve us himself. He has been an old friend. He was one of my crew sailing from Orkney, he just does not believe in any hocus pocus though. “What will you have today Henry? The usual? We do have a nice baked scallop with a nice buttered roasted honey wheat breading,” McMann asks.

“Chicken Marsala will be fine.”

“The baked scallops sounds good,” Kettell says.

“Drinks?”

“A water and lemon now and a chocolate milk with my meal.”

“A cider please.”

“Any news of the Salem Map being found?” I ask Kettell. This was one of his maps he kept out of his translation of Columbus’ diary.

“Members of the new Mormon church following tales of Joseph Smith’s treasure hunt in Salem have been poking around. Also members of the Anti-Masonic Party have just got off the coach from New York, the Mormons got here three days before on the same coach” Kettell informed me.

“Have you heard Captain Morgan’s widow remarried and moved to Manchester, New York with the Mormons. She was privy to her husbands Freemasonry secrets..”

“I believe they have copied some of their rights in their new church?”

“Not only that, I fear some of your secrets have been exposed too.”

“What is the connection of their church being founded on the death of Joseph White?”

“I don’t know, but their Book of Mormon was published within the month of his murder. It was said to be an Egyptian book written on gold plates with several prophets writing it. Some claim there is an ancient Egyptian or Phoenician temple in the Grand Canyon. The last prophet named Moroni, buried the plates in the Hill Cumorah in present-day Manchester, New York. Then in the year of Stephen White’s wife’s death and Joseph Knapps’ Sr. Wife’s death in 1827, Moroni came back as an angel revealing the location of the plates to Smith, and instructing him to translate the plates into English for use in the restoration of Christ’s true church in the latter days. It took three years to publish?” Kettell went on.

“Another church St. Peter had claim to. He has been a thorn in my side for years...” I said with consternation. “But I will not let that ruin my dinner.”

“What about the rumors of Rev. Bentley being an Illuminati? Most think he was speaking out against Morse’s conspiracy, but he spoke about the state of affairs of the Illuminati in his Essex Lodge,” Kettell was inquiring.

“There were rumors of Timothy Pickering dabbling in their secrets. Maybe others in his cession group, the Essex Junto. I am not sure of Bentley. Thomas Dwight IV who was President of Yale around 1799 during Morse’s allegations, definitely. William Russell of Yale has just gone to Bavaria to study with Adam Weinstaupt, their founder, before his imminent death.”

“Was it your Grandfather who founded Freemasonry in Scotland?” said as someone who just realized light dawns on Marblehead.

“Yes, Adam was trying to control Freemasonry and its secrets. It was said he found Long’s spear and was using its powers to find other religious items of power. He sent for Alphonso to ask him to search New England for my items whereabouts which was once kept at Roslyn Chapel.”

“Perkins and White are connected to this, but how? Also I am little scared about how quiet George Peabody is. His mother’s affairs have been settled for awhile and he has not set off for London again. Plus, Long’s appearance with the Vampires, could he be connected to Weinstaupt. Could he have instructed him?” Kettell pondered before giving up his thoughts for the Baked Scallops that was just placed in front of him.

I just got my chocolate milk.

 

 

Chapter 31:

The White Meeting

Henry Sinclair,

Please join me on the evening of the 28th at my residence on the Common at 8pm for a meal~and a talk.

Your Humble Servant,

Senator Stephen Whte

This was brought by post to my residence on English Street. Most of the street has recovered from the fires. Caroline had provided ample sums for the street renewal. She had cared for and put up the families who had lost the most till they could occupy their homes again. The rest was donated by the Hibernians' fire relief fund. The street still had that tinge of wet burned wood though. Plus I was still blowing soot out of my nose from the neighborhood.

I went inside and found Caroline waiting for me with a fine glass of chocolate milk. She knew the way to a man's heart…

"How was your day?" she asked with a sweet smile.

I sat on my leather nailhead couch and smiled at her. She sat next to me. "Fine. I took another horse ride to Rafe's Chasm and sat for hours."

"Liar, I know you had done some rock hoping!"

"Well, maybe a little..."

Then she started tickling me, knowing fair well I was not ticklish. So I tickled her back until she was splitting her side-asking for some more.

Then she said, "Alright, I declare Uncle." I stopped.

"Then I went home by way of Ipswich. I turned off Topsfield Road onto Tuner Hill, the apples were ready early, and took the trails through Greenwood past the old Winthrop estate. I came out on that estate of John Murray Forbes in Hamilton. I let Jameson take a big dump of road apples in their field before taking the Bay Road south. Then Main Street to Larch followed by Dodge," Then I was interrupted by Caroline, "I know you went by Beaver Pond next."

"Yes I did. Jameson had one large drink, which brought us to one large delay on Turtle Hill."

"I know you eventually turned at that little creek and followed it for a ways past Snake Hill and then onto Dane's Beach. I know you so well..."

"Yes then past Beverly wharves onto the Salem Bridge. You should come with me next Saturday. It would do your good old mare some good."

"Who are you calling old. I got Pansy in my 22nd year. What are you implying..."

"That you look younger today, and may I add, more beautiful than the first day I met you."

"You must be hungry and hoping I had made some dinner. You liar," Caroline got off the couch and held my hand as she pulled me up and toward the kitchen.

I knock on the door. A man in strange Egyptian robes answers the door. Very astern. He had that mystical coal and belladonna eye treatment and faraway stare. "This way," he said like a mummy.

We went through the front parlor and straight out the back to the carriage house. The clock above the building struck 8 as I entered a side door to the carriage door.

The Egyptian closed the door behind me. It was just me and Stephen. I could not see a dining table. Also, there were no horses.

"Why are you still investigating, Frank has been proven guilty. Joseph and George will be next, the book is sealed," Stephen says in a threatening way.

"What is really going on? The murder has only been a sideshow to the many epics unfolding,"

"I don't know what you are speaking of. I am only concerned with Justice! Justice for my uncle who has been murdered."

"You have to admit that implicating the Crowninshields was good for Henry Clay's chances in winning the next election," I was fishing, "Sure way to win a presidency is to make sure the strong candidate on the opposite side never gets nominated."

"You are playing this murder for more than it is worth," White said with a smile that dripped with venom. "One murder, three weapons, three nooses. No more. No less."

Stephen was about 43, lithe, and thin. His muscle were sinewy. Dressed in white shirt and calvary pants of the Second Corp of Cadets. Closed cropped dark mustache and curly receding dark hair. His eyes looked ancient though. Not tired, but experienced.

"How did it feel to be second fiddle to your brother in the eyes of the old Captain? Even after he died, you still remained second," Stephen only stood their with his grin, so I continued, "Your dear father, God rest his soul, now has been departed these last 5 years, have you mourned him once? You only mourn your wealthy father who scorned you for your brother. Better a dead brother than a live one, right," I said watching Stephen's malicious stare. "Did you even mourn your wife!" I was fishing and I just had a Great White latch onto my hook.

A sword appeared in a flash and nicked my throat. It was a slice that went from just below one ear to the other which would have been the end of me if I had not leaned away in time.

I was in a low crouch, both hands out, I hooked my right foot from behind in front of his left ankle and hit the small of his back with my left hand, and lifted his foot which sent him into a roll. He slid his right foot toward me and pivoted on his other with sword out and dashed up like a dancing Russian. His blade continues forward as I come in tight, my right foot inside of his feet, elbow connects to face as his momentum pulls him in. He stagers back in line with my chest. I come in again, swipe of right foot behind his left, push with left hand on his chest; he deflects the blow and spins to my right. I stomp on the side of his right calf, just below the knee. He lowers for a second, a bounce up, and lunges over his knee with his sword. I duck and strike below the knee, to increase swelling.

He leaps back. He comes in for a forward thrust, I sidestep, grab his hand behind the hilt with my right, twist his wrist counterclockwise down, strike the elbow. He drops his sword.

He comes in with his right, I grab the side of his fist with my right and turn it clockwise, let his momentum pull forward, still in control of his wrist, left hand dislocates the elbow. I strike the side of the knee once more and he is down.

While he is not moving I have a look around, "I love the early Elizabethan dungeon look, who is your interior man?" I pause and spin around a bit, "Really should get his calling card for Caroline."

There were sigils of John Dee on the wall. Magic circles and boxes. Enochian spells, Solomon's seals, Arabian equations, all painted in white on black. The whole room was painted black. It sucked the light out of the room. The pillars glowed of an eerie purple. In the center magic circle was an Icelandic helm protruding from its exterior. Its center was a synthesis of chaotic arcane amalgamation of various traditions.

In the corner stall was a silver table about waist height which could hold a person. Along the edges was a groove. The table had a tilt, a slight one, toward one end. The end had a hole with a rubber lined hose extending to the floor. The next stall had shackles on the wall. The ceiling had a hole extending through the next floor to an open lunette. The moon was full that night.

Stephen was moaning in the distance. He was still trying to get up. I looked back and it seemed that his right side was made of wax and had melted.

I waved back to him over my shoulder as I looked his way as I was leaving saying, "Big Smile! Big Smile!" and let the door shut behind me. The Egyptian came at me with a scythe and I said, "Boo!" and he felt an imaginary blow to his stomach that doubled him over and threw him off his feet a foot before he scampered away.

Just then I realized I was hungry I put off eating due to Stephen's promise of a meal. Probably would have been poisoned. Never trust a man that has chemical laboratory on a river.

The tinges of the adrenaline rush of a berserk was coursing through my veins. It was going to keep me up all night and prove for a restless few hours. I decided to go to the old site of Bridget Bishop's tavern, the one with all those gables.

I stepped in and the fiddle player squeaked his bow and became silent. The bar just stared at me. This was the dock working Federalist den of iniquity. "Lets dance boys!" and I did.

Many members of the Committee where here tonight. Their biggest came at me first and the fiddle player struck up the bow again.

He came with a strong uncentered punch, I hit him behind the neck with my open hand sending his head down and forward, I swung my right leg over his head. My foot landed square with the next one that came at me, I crouched down, and as he came forward, again, I aimed my head between his legs and lifted him over my shoulders. Then I danced like a Russian, dropping onto one leg as the other jutted forward hitting the next under the jaw. I spun circles in their traditional dance, before one came at me with a shuffle board stick. I stepped on it with my left and snapped it with my right and hooked his head with the back of my knee and sent him flying.

The next came lunging with a knife, I sidestepped pulling his arm down with my right and planting my left about mid-chest and flung him. The rest I just danced from one corner to the other slap boxing the hell out of them. Then I just ducked and swirled their blows, of all types, till...I just tired them out.

I paid the fiddler and left. I was ready to see if Caroline would make us dinner.

Chapter 32:

Lazarus

I met Kettell at the Sign of the Stoned Elephant on the old Proctor lot. There was always something pleasing about drinking some mead in this old Puritan house of worship. This was the second church of the First Church, moved to this lot after Proctor's father was hanged as a witch just beyond the ridge to the left. He figured if they could insult his father by hanging him on his own lot, he could insult them right back.

This building has since been a tavern and a horse stable throughout the years. So it is safe to say the first church in America was full of horse shit at times.

The Puritans met in the third building on the corner of Short Lane and Essex Streets, when they went a little crazy. Those dumb Puritans/Congregationalists tried it again only 19 years ago. It was the year they closed the old Witch Gaol and broke ground for the current prison the Knapps and George sit in now. I wonder if they expected a larger turnout that year?

What settled it was a question to a miss Anne Bancroft, the one suffering fits from a Witch in Boston trying to kill her remotely, from the overseer of Bulfinch's poor farm. He asked if she was gainfully employed. She replied she was not. So he offered two conclusions: One she come work on the farm, the second she leave town. She left. So that was the end of the Second Witch Hysteria of 1811.

The bigger specter in Salem that year was Baring Brothers who sent their representative to bribe members of the Federalist Party in town to reestablish a new national bank after they closed the First National Bank that year. They say now that the War of 1812 was only a diversion to force our hand to create a new national bank to pay for the war debt. These men would be sure to have the most stock in the new bank so they can hand it right back to the British once more.

They have that bank now, but for how much longer. President Jackson is already taking aim at it after that failed land transaction not backed by species. Just like the Second National Bank which has far few reserves to back its tender.

I enter the bar and Proctor, John Proctor's great grandson, begins to pour my melomel. A lovely brew with pineapple and orange juice from the West Indies and honey. I need to learn his recipe one day. I walk to the bar and Proctor says, "Kettell has been waiting in the corner there."

I go to join my friend.

"I have a mission for you. I don't think those Knapp boys have been initiated yet," I exclaim to Kettell.

"The Slippery Tight Cunt?"

"Yes!"

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Tetrodotoxin?"

"Too tricky, we also need to avoid the China Traders."

"We can get it from one from the West Indies?"

"Salem merchants deal in both trades though."

"Solanum dulcamara and Mandrake?"

"The first we can get off any fence in town, the second grows up on the ridge behind us. There is a famous grove on the corner of Proctor and Pope Streets where they let the bodies fall," I pause to think, "18, no 19 plants grow."

"Do we pay the piper too?"

"It worked in the past..."

"Connections in place?"

"Yes, we have a few small ones. Plus Mumford has given me an updated recipe from our old one."

Chapter 33:

The Fifth Hanging

It was the morning of the 28th, Frank has had time to sit with his brother, and now he is making his way to the rear of the prison.

Thousands come in past the Sheriff's house, others flock in through the cemetery where they pressed Giles Corey above where the old Captain now sits in a tomb below in the Howard Street Cemetery tunnel. Nobody whistles as they trod around the graves.

Before Frank exits the prison a boy prisoner knocks into him. He is quite taken back and looks up at this man he knows is about to die. He wonders if this might be his fate one day if he does not straighten up and stay out of this hell hole. He is shocked and the only thing he could think to do was extend his hand, palm open with what looked like a gibraltar to Frank. Frank took it and thanked the boy The boy turned on his heels and ran. The jailer pushed him forward. As Frank sucked on the gibraltar, he started to make a strange whistling sound.

To ad insult to injury, Colman was the minister to provide extreme unction and hear his last confession. Frank was dazed. Appleton was present to declare the death. Man in a hood was readying the noose.

It was quick and the masses piled out not feeling right. Who would? It is one thing to be moved as a mob, but you always go home to your conscious alone. As Frank swung from the noose you could still hear that whistling sound as he swung to and fro as we all exited the graveyard.

Manning's cart, Hawthorne's uncle, was provided to bring the body to the Knapp house.

Chapter 34:

The Miskatonic Inquiry

Me and Kettell travelled into the secret corners of the Essex Institutes into the University that shall not be named. There we met Professor Wilmarth, who was waiting for us. He was their expert on Folklore and Magic.

“Albert, It is good to see you! How was your trip to Vermont,” I said shaking his hand with one arm while I clasped him on the back with the other. “Albert this here is my friend Kettell.”

“I have read your work. I noticed a few maps were missing...”

“You can’t hide anything from you, my old friend,” I said with a smile releasing his hand and keeping my other around his neck.

“What can I say...” said Kettell with a shrug and a smile.

“Albert I think I seen a working of Nyarlathotep’s circle drawn out,” I said as I lowered my head and looked the old professor in the eye.

“Nyarlathotep, are you sure?” he said as he went for the shelves to dive into some ancient codex. “Here, did it look like this?”

“Yes, but altered some.”

“Not good. This was Phrexus’ sigil which only managed to awaken the entities to prepare the way for the great one. Who ever made the one you seen, might of found the way to break Nyarlathotep out of his stone he was entrapped in by the Nephilim.”

“Was Weinstaupt working to break Nyarlathotep’s circle?” Kettell asked.

“What Rev. Bentley has leaked about the Illuminati to the Essex Lodge, I would have to say he was,” the professor said pushing his spectacles back on his nose which squished his bushy white and gray eyebrows. They were a great mass of wool near an electric generator. “Who had the circle worked out?”

“It was Stephen White.”

“I hear he has been traveling around New York State looking for a grand forest to deplete for a great ship building enterprise northeast of Boston. He has put up for purchase 666 shares of Noodle’s Island he is going to develop and have the causeway filled in,” the professor paused to put the book back on the shelf. “On his trip he found Morgan’s wife and had a friend seduce her. It was on his instigation this new couple find their way to Joseph Smith. Smith’s Egyptian studies had him looking to call for Nyarlathotep as well. Some say Moroni, who visited him, was a visage of Nyarlathotep.”

“How did the alchemist of old find his stone?” I inquired.

“The Massachusetts avoided the Place of the Fish. It was only a few years before the Old Planters came with Conant, that they settled here again after the great tragedy,” he continued.

I remember that event, but I could not tell him that.

“They found his great stone that landed on the rise that connects Proctor’s Ridge to Castle Hill. When the great volcano blew in Collins Cove that sent the rock to Eagle Hill, 4 million years ago...it dislodged the stone the Nephilim entrapped him into onto that ridge. Since, that ridge has seen the hanging of 19 and the Indian Massacre in 1624 near Brown’s Folly.”

“Now I remember, there was rumor Judge Hathorne, Curwin, Putnam, and others found mention of Nyarlathotep in the works of John Dee. And learned to work his circle to free him from the stone. To learn the workings of the circle they needed the crushed bones of a man, thanks to Corey, to be mixed with a chemical produced only in the body of a person during hanging, to alleviate the need for oxygen. Vestige of our days breathing water in the ocean,” Kettell jumped in.

“Correct, to control the circle was to free him. The Black Man’s stone was one of the ten Spheres of the Qliphoth. Many don’t realize that Nyarlathotep boons only bless the grandchild of their loins, it brings those who worship him to an early death to serve him on the other side till the day that his stone is found again and the riddle of his circle, broken. Only then will his true powers be released.”

“It sure was not Derby’s pepper that built the wealth of Salem which has laid its heavy hand on the world.” I jumped in.

“So you mentioned it was on that ridge? Why did they not find his stone?” Kettell inquired.

“Was. I am afraid, I snuck it into your chapel within another item. It is suspended between dimensions in a box, so you will not even find it. In fact it jumps between 15 magic boxes. We have placed them into your chapel hidden in other items you thought were captured from the East India Marine Society’s voyages,” Albert said with drooped shoulders and a sunken head looking like a sad little hairy puppy dog. “We could not trust anyone, even you.”

“That is alright, it will be safe. That will explain why the town was almost abandoned when Conant arrived,” I just pretended to just figure that out for the professor’s sake. I was there when the Mi’kmaq invaded, the Red Vikings. They were a tribe that mixed with Vinlanders and an older race of Gaels. Mc and Mac…Micmac.

It was a tragic battle caused by French influences between brothers.

The tribe though has the cutest cats. These Maine Coon Cats. Some of Lief’s brother’s Norwegian Forest Cats escaped and had their way with the locals too.

Chapter 35:

Trip to the Machine Shop

William and I took my carriage with Louie driving to Danvers to visit Richard Crowninshield Sr. in his shop. The one person connected to this murder we have not spoken to yet.

“So guv’nor, It is off to Onion Town we are?” Louie said. “As things have been as of late, we should have been going to garlic town with all of them Vampires. In fact I wonder if Ginseng Town would be a better bet...”

“They have been quiet for a few days. I wonder what they are planning?” I inquired. I have not thought about them, with so many other things going on. We have heard that George Peabody excused himself from town to travel to his old city of Baltimore. I’m guessing, it has to do with the train that lost to the stage coach.

Then Perkins has also been strangely quiet.

Henry Clay has been quite vocal campaigning. The Federalist papers spend half their time building him up and the other half tearing down Jackson. Hard to tell which they are having the most fun with. The Congregational churches are filled with vim and vinegar on how Jackson is the devil bringing the end to us all.

Religion, the main power to keep the ignorant dumb and sure about themselves. Us and them. Gives them a sense of superiority to go stomp on some heas emotionally or physically. Or a sense of fear in which they have to get them before they get it instead.

Always worried about loosing something and always making excuses for those who actually have their hands in their pockets. If the church said that them Democrats are fighting for air, the ignorant would hold their breath and die because whatever the Democrats are fighting for must be evil. A good Jainist approach.

I was strangely silent, lost in my thoughts when...“Henry, what is it. You have not said a word this whole trip?”

“I am sorry. I was caught up thinking about all that is going on. Perkins and Peabody are working on something. They have plans for a railroad I believe,” I said. I was still somewhere else. I started thinking about what Lilly had told me about our new Governor…

We arrived at the Machine Shop and was let into the back office to see Richard Crowninshield Senior, “Good day good sirs, How can I be of help?” Richard had said as he was wiping the grease off his hands to shake ours. “Maybe you have a broken axle? Intelligent men as yourselves, might be inventors...maybe it is cogs or screws for you? Either way we can machine it for you, for a tenth less than anyone else here to Boston. What will it be?” When he finished he was looking Kettell to me in the eyes while grabbing Kettell’s hand with his and the other on his elbow.

“We came to talk about your sons,” I said compassionately. I tried to sound like I was on his side.

He threw Kettell’s hand down and stepped back in a rage and started to come at me, “Your filthy rags have hung my boys before they could even get a fair trial. How is it fair that the populace and the jury reads ‘guilty’ before they ever sits before the judge. You filthy Feds! My one son was hanged. Before he ever had a chance to have his day in court!”

I ducked a huge fist and continued, “We are no Federalists...You stop throwing punches...we believe your boys to be innocent!” He threw one last one before he stared me down.

“You believe in my boys. That is a first. The town didn’t like me taking up with my Irish gal, her loose lips didn’t help any, me being a Crowninshield and all. Marrying a maid they say! My

boys have been suffering the condemnation ever since,” he looks to his left and right before he leans in and whispers, “My lass is a bit of a gossip. Who am I kidding, she loves it!” he says as he slaps me on the back.

“Richard! What are you saying now!” Mrs Crowninshield busts in with her hands full of grease and smudges of oil on her brow with some loose curls spilling from a workman’s hat. “You better hold your tongue or you will not be eating in my house for the next month” She looked at us and asked, “Customers? What will ya be having?”

“They are not customers. They are gentlemen. They believe our sons are innocent,” he said with a prideful smile and a slap of the belly as he arched his back.

“They were not born innocent, but they are at least innocent of the murder they are accused of.” she says with a smile. “My one boy not only has one alibi, but two women will attest to the fact he was sharing their bed on that night. That is my George, always the ladies man!”

Richard leans in, “Dick’s death has not sunken in yet. I think she is waiting for the verdict on George before any reality may set in,” he continues in a lighter hush, “she still sets a place for him at the table every evening, believing it is business that keeps him away. I have been clearing his plate so she thinks he came home late and ate it.” He lets go of me and walks a step towards his wife and stretches out with one hand held high with a smile says, “Dear I am going into my office where we can sit comfortably and talk, you go ahead and finish those gears for Mr. Fullerton and have them ready for the morning. Thanks!”

He took us into his small office and offered us a brandy, both me and Kettell declined and he took a good one down the hatch, “Why are you on the boys’ side?”

“Nothing ads up about them or the Knapps committing the crime. There seems to be more going on,” I said while gauging his face and body language. Seeing if he was going to slip something.

“Its revenge! That old man always had it on his mind. Always looking for the slight and the fastest way to redress it,”he started in on his tale in a maniacal fashion mimicking his beliefs on the old Captain. “You know he was a loyal British servant at the beginning of the Revolution? Those Brits ransacked his ship on accident. He already made it known to the admiralty he was loyal, and they took his ship anyway.

He was moving counterfeit Continentals. He was helping ruin our means of paying for supplies here and abroad. When they took that ship, he went mad. He went and bought the Come Along Paddy from the elder Derby and took to privateering! Made a good penny. He made the most of all of our ships.

Revenge made his fortune. For a widower, that ship was his only baby. Especially after his nephew Joseph Jr. chokes on his wine.” He paused for effect, “They say Stephen was with him when it happened. The story always seemed a little off pudding...Stephen then owned all of Joseph Jr. & Stephen White Co. He named his son Joseph to move on in to his brother’s spot, but it never took. The old Captain never took a real shine to Stephen, not like he did to Joseph Jr.”

“How did he take it when Knapp lost that ship, why did he even sell it in the first place?” the part about him selling the ship never sat right.

“Sell it, nah he lost it himself. Too boastful was the old Captain. He was in his cups one night when he boasted about how fast she was. Knapp had Hawkes just finish for him this real streamlined beauty. Knapp was telling him about her and White could not let it go. He said the Revenge could beat his new ship and just had to take out a wager on it.

Knapp is the one who proposed the winner take the other’s ship. He just wanted to end it, never thinking he would ever risk his baby. He thought of it only as a way to shut up an old man who had one too many.

That fool took him up on his wager, and lost. The Revenge started off good, but lost the wind. Knapp tried to back out of the wager, but White was going to have nothing of it. He won it fair and square.

Joseph Jenkins Knapp Jr. never stood a chance, to be born on the same day his father lost that ship to a pirate, to be named Joseph and not White, and then growing up to marry, who my wife thinks was the old Captain’s last mistress; his doom was sealed.”

“And he never forgave you for your public opinions on Jefferson and Madison with their Embargo.” Kettell joined in.

“Hell! When I stood up in the Sun Tavern and professed the wisdom and foresight of those two good Virginians over a tankard during a meeting of the East India Marine Society, on top of my chair, his face turned redder than those red coats of the enemy who he supported during the Revolution, and the War of 1812... He supported them up to the last minute of his life,” Richard said smacking his knee.

“Now the two of you lost three ship in Naples after the Embargo was lifted,” I wanted him to confirm.

“He was in a hurry, he was bursting, he was happier that day than when he knew his brother Henry had named his first son after him. The enemy had lost. He was going to sail again!” Richard paused to hang his head and look up at us again, “I knew better, Marat was harassing all ships coming from Naples and Venice to Africa.

He was not hearing any of it and we just slipped into his hands. Those Virginians were correct. I handled it better, I had just lost my investment in those boats. He on the other hand loaded all three with his cargo, he overpaid for hearing there were huge profits to be had on sugar for this season’s wine harvesting. All that sugar by now, mixed with the grape, probably has made a fine vintage by now. I bet, young Joseph even choked on some of it!”

“You think the old Captain would have had Stephen hire someone to end his life, just to blame it on your’s and Knapp’s heirs?” Kettell said astonished at his thought.

“Think. I know he did. He was dying for months before he was murdered. He was in great pain. He must have had this planned for years. On top of it all, he led Knapp into one failed trip after the other. When Knapp lost his Chestnut Street home, White put up the majority share of the note for his new home on Essex Street. He had Knapp extend himself beyond what he could afford and then put in only a dollar more than he did. Just enough to be able to foreclose on his home right before he died. Not only was he going to have his sons executed for his murder, but he was to have him be homeless on top of it.”

“I have met Palmer. He was on the third floor when I was drugged and locked away in the prison. Who knows where they have shuffled him off to now.” I said.

“Um. You met Palmer?” Richard kind of sunk for the moment.

“I have heard what his reasons could have been and his feelings towards your sons.” I said hoping he would say what I already knew.

“So you know?” he said knowing the answer before asking.

“That he was your son before you went off to New York...”

“My wife would not let me have anything to do with him, but I paid for his rearing behind her back. I might not be able to see him, but I would be damned if he was going to want. I guess I spoiled him, if I did not shake his hand or hold him. He just showed up at the shop and after a week just dropped it on me, he was me son,” he sort beamed for a moment. “He was a strapping young lad, looked like me when I was younger. He had something of me that I did not see in the other boys, but he was rotten. I tried avoiding it, but there was no denying. He almost got my two boys killed. I had to ask him not to come back. I rejected him twice.” There was a pause, “There has been a few accidents. I had almost succumbed twice. My wife once. My pride horses were found dead. I had to hire some young strong men, who could not work the machines, but they could work a knife to stick around to protect mine.”

After a silent reflection and a few tears, “I never wanted to let him go. I wish he knew that, but I have to realize I never held him and never will. Unless it is within the final moments of him plunging his dirk in my heart.”

We went out of the shop to find Louie, but he was gone. After a few moments we seen him and his carriage, his horses prancing this way and that. Taking up the whole street. When they got to us, the one just went down on all fours, the other leaned into the first a little and gave a little hiccup.

I surmised Louie went to the Danvers distillery. It was just around the corner on Margin Street on the Crane River. During Leslie’s Retreat, men from Danvers were rushing to Mason’s aid. This was a few days before the Battle on the Green at the Old North Bridge, in Salem.

When they passed the distillery.

The British were going to cross the bridge and seize Richard Derby’s ship cannons he was having outfitted with carriage wheels for the Colonial resistance when...they realized the gravity of the situation. They could not in all good consciousness leave that Rum left unguarded for the British to seize. So they guarded the distillery and never made it to Salem that day. With the shape Louie and his horses where in, I wonder if we were going to make it to Salem too.

 

Chapter 36:

The Jig

Me and Caroline went to the Essex Agricultural Society Fair in North Andover. It was a lovely ride with Louie at the reins telling us some of the most fascinating stories. Probably less than half of them I believe were true, but to call him on it would ruin a good story.

Do I complain that Hathorne's, I mean Hawthorne's, stories that were first published this year in the Salem Gazette are fictitious...He was so proud, even though they were anonymously written. So why complain about Louie. I have had many good laughs with him over the years, especially with the random stranger who takes him for his veracity. When this happens his tales become even more amazing and sometimes ludicrous.

"That is when I went through Turner Hill and seen the unicorn, which was only scared away by the fairies in the Pine Stand outside of the Stone Cottage on the eastern slope. I almost was stuck beyond the veil, later in the orchard. I was a second away from eating one of those apples when I noticed the tree, and myself, stood within a ring of mushrooms. I then remembered my Pappy's tales of the fairy realm which he always advised that you never eat anything there and never take any favors. Then there was the beautiful damsel, in the nude, but I noticed her tail..." You get the hint, but he sure is entertaining.

Then that is to say I never seen things like vampires…

Its just Louie tells a better story than I.

This year the society once again chose Andover. The last two years they have chosen the area near the Philips Academy. The fields are lush and tend to remain mud free before and after the rain. Other locations they have chosen didn't have this luxury.

Caroline always wants to go watch the oxen pulls. They remind me of the adage of 'Beasts of Burden.' Though last year a team of five horses competed with the ox teams and won. The horse you could sense actually loved to be put to work. They would jump as if they were pulling already just at the sight of the harness. They were ready to go.

How do I know; if they were trying to escape the weight they would be lighter on their feet and quicker, but when they thought the harness was coming they lowered their body weight and dug in their back hooves and dug up patches of dirt. For the first time she went up and petted the horses, she never went to pet the oxen.

We had way too much pie; I went for the apple and she had her blueberry. Well I had some blueberry too, she smooshed some into my face after I made a comment of it ending up on her hips. There was also some retort about me not ending up on her hips tonight either. Which was a lie…

We danced several jigs and eased into a few tankards of Scotch Ale and the new bocks from the Deutsch immigrants who were moving up from New York. I had seen Benjamin Crowninshield enjoying one too many of this style of ale. The ale tent is always fun seeing which ale gets the blue ribbon. Plus the crowd gets to vote on the free pints they give out of each competitor's recipes. It is adjacent to the music stage.

Some of the scoundrels from the Phillips made their way into the tent. They also were chased out.

This one particular group were making what seemed like Freemasonry hand signals and handshakes, but they were altered some. Where were these kids learning high degrees of Masonry handshakes? On their team jerseys were symbols that I have only heard used in Bavaria. One kid stole another's plate of pie and was running away laughing; I just stuck my foot out and Caroline caught the pie. A little spilled on her dress, but it deserved her right. We walked back and returned the pie to the kid.

Then we went in to see the barn filled with the rabbits. I liked them too. "I knew this school had connections to the Essex Junto's compatriots the 'Blue Light Federalists' in Connecticut, but now they are sharing their Illuminati beliefs and indoctrinating the youth here."

"They can't all be that bad," she was always defending the children who were misshaped by society or family, many did fine after spending a few years with her.

Then we noticed this child who could not be more than 8 years old who was a little too small to look over the table to see the rabbits. He kept hopping around, only catching glances of the bunnies. Caroline lifted him so he can see. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back. He then handed me some gibraltars.

A very sweet couple walked up to us. They were his parents. The woman tried to grab him as Caroline handed the child to him, but he ran off. "I am sorry about that. My name is John Olmsted and this is my wife Mary. We been trying, but it has been hard on him after his mother died 4 years ago. Fredrick though, has a fascination for nature, that we encourage. We lost him as he ran ahead of us. We figured he would of ducked into the botany barn, but he does love his rabbits too."

I asked him, "Where are you from, I don't hear the normal accent."

"Where up from Hartford looking at the Phillips Academy for Fredrick. I hear they have an amazing gardening and agriculture school," Marry answered.

"Oh there he goes again, will you excuse us as we catch up to our son again," Jon almost went off at a run as his wife did, but stopped and turned and shook my hand. "It was a pleasure..."

"Henry and this is Caroline."

"Pleasure may wee meet each other again," he said tipping his hat to Caroline and he ran off after the other two.

Then those brats ran back again and this time Caroline tripped them up with a swoop of her parasol before opening it above her head as we strolled on out of the bunny barn.

The I remembered John Murray Forbes had graduated from here before going on to Yale. There is talk about Perkins selling his New Haven property to the Russell family for a new fraternity at Yale.

Louie dropped us off at Middleton Pond. It was only a slight detour off of Turnpike Road in Middleton onto Boston Street. We had him come pick us up before sunset. I believe he went off to the Brown farm. I think there was a milkmaid that led him toward the cows.

Caroline had bought us some peaches and apples. She also bought the wining shepherd pie for us for dinner, some potatoes, and a nice dandelion wine. Even though it was not a ribbon winner, we both decided it was our favorite. She kept it all warm under a wool blanket she kept in a picnic basket and we were able to gather some straw and sawdust from the barns to pack it in.

We ate till we were satiated.

Then she gave me that sly look and stood in a hurry. She then gave me a crooked smile, "What you think..." With that she slipped her dress off her shoulders and let it drop. "How about it?" then she started to remove her chemise and drawers. She giggled and ran into the pond. In like fashion I joined her. We swam out to the island. She ran into the woodline with me following. She fell onto the needles and waited. Like I said, she lied.

Chapter 37:

It has to Do Where the Choo Choo Go…

Governor Lincoln was to meet informally with a commission headed by Thomas Perkins and Stephen White on creating a railroad from Boston to Salem. They were heading into the meeting with a lot of opposition from ship captains between the two cities. They feared that shipping would favor them and ignore Lynn, Marblehead, and Saugus.

I went up to Boston with Gideon and William. We both had our questions about Gideon and figured spending some time with him might inform us on what is going on. Gideon, Louie, and William shared some whiskey from Gideon's flask on the way up along the coast. We took the ferry over from Noodles Island. We had seen some of Bulfinch's granite pass us on the way for Charlestown to be then carted to the Bunker Hill Monument. Well it was suppose to be going there.

We entered Faneuil Hall and went for a private office where we were to join the committee to hear about the railroad. While sitting there we heard much talk about the rail to Salem which met with heavy opposition. White did his best to convince them, but he was failing. He also seemed distracted by my, mere presence, especially standing with Gideon. Then Perkins proposed a rail to Lowell from Salem. He wanted to move raw goods from the sea to be manufactured in Lowell. It didn't meet with as much opposition, it was just ignored in fact as the arguments went back to the Boston-Salem rail.

This was the second meeting. The first Perkins held with Lincoln was in January. In the end the state refused to charter any of the plans.

After the meeting we entered Bulfinch's tunnels and headed for the Commercial Coffee House. Our friend Merriam who once lived on Beckett Street near me has since removed himself to Boston. For a short period, the Boston Masonic Lodge met in his coffeehouse. That was a year after he opened up for business in 1818.

William already knew William, so there was only Gideon to be introduced to Merriam, "Dr. Gideon Barstow, William Merriam."

Merriam is polite, but there is something he does not trust in Gideon. Gideon senses this and seems visibly agitated.

Gideon is trying to hide his anxiety. He begins to sweat profusely. He looks at Merriam's amulet. It was the Third Pentacle of Saturn designed by Solomon to prevent possession of the mind and body. Gideon could not stop staring at it. "Does my amulet offend you?"

Gideon choked, "No…:

"I can let you hold it," Merriam offered. Little did Gideon know that Merriam was a 36th degree Mason and the Invisible Grand Master of Boston. "Maybe you would like to wear it?"

Merriam sank in his seat and almost fell to the floor. One of Merriam's waiters grabbed Gideon and Merriam came around the corner. William Parker was besides himself looking like the scared badger once more, "What, what goes here my good man. Henry what have you brought us to?"

"William, relax. Just let this play out. I have had my suspicions for some time," I said as I laid my hand on Parker's shoulder.

Merriam succeeded in laying the chain over Gideon's head and he fell in a swoon. Merriam then removed the necklace and flipped it over. Within the silver we can see the animated face of Ephraim Waite.

For several years after possessing Edward Pickman Derby's body, he bounced form catatonic patient to patient within the walls of the Arkham Asylum. Eventually rebuilding his strength after the battle with Daniel Upton, who thought he left him for dead. Ephraim Waite has come back to Salem.

Derby had went to study from Waite on the secrets of Yog-Sothoth to gain access through the 3 gates to get to Nyarlathotep and the 9 dimensions.

"There is an old mysterious and dangerous text that reads 'Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread.' His secrets had cost Derby everything even his wife, Waite's daughter," Merriam explained to us.

Merriam had Gideon's body dragged to a room above his coffeehouse. There he can recoup and they can prepare him for the stress of learning that he might have been sleeping in a remote section of his brain for maybe years. There was no way in telling. Waite and Derby were supposed to be both dead almost 3 years now.

Merriam brought us into one of the rooms on the second floor he had the Columbian Lodge meet in. He had one of his waiters go and fetch William a bottle of good brandy to calm his nerves.

"Henry, for my life, I do not know why in God's good earth I ever follow you. I am besides myself," Merriam's man returned into the room and handed Parker a double, "Thank you. That steadied my nerves some. Henry! Why do you do this to me!"

I gave him a gibraltar, and he calmed down a bit. He just sat there and focused on sucking on that hard candy and let the thoughts that just transpired ease away.

"To reach Nyarlathotep, there was rumor that Yog-Sothoth's seal and sigil lay buried in a granite quarry in Quincy," Merriam began to fill us in on news from Towne. "When one wakes Yog, the gate keeper, the one with the seal and sigil will be led to Nyarlathotep's confinement spot in between the dimensions."

"That explains why they have been stalled in building the Bunker Hill Monument. I thought all of the granite was going into the construction of the tunnels of Boston," I said holding my chin.

"The other part of the plan is to take the granite that Yog has infected by his proximity and use it in the monument," the high Mason was explaining. "Using that granite they are to make a piedmont, an antenna to ask the Older Ones in their aid in finding Yog's seal and sigil.

There is one other way that is too horrible to mention that most arcane texts, are too scared to mention, leave out to bring Yog-Sothoth forward to open the 3 gates and 9 dimensions to bring the Ancient Ones back to our world without Nyarlathotep or Yog-Sothoth seal and sigil. They call it the Three Fold Death."

I wonder if it was in Perkins' mind to use Nyarlathotep against the vampires that will soon be taking his life for his sins against China.

"Perkins has been in close conversation with William Russell. He merged his opium concern with his cousin Samuel to unite the families. You know he sold his property in New Haven to William Russell to build some strange new crypt for some eulogy club or fraternity at Yale. The Illuminati is after your Holy Grail Henry.

The Illuminati that has infected New England have found old French manuscripts in the Bibliotheque Nationale de France relating to the Templars' removal of treasures from France for Scotland. They also found a second copy of the Zeno Narratives talking about how those items have made it to New England. "

Merriam kept looking at the door.

"Merriam, stop staring man. Nothing is coming through that door that is not from the loins of Adam and Eve. Maybe a dog. Now have a swig on me!" said Parker. Parker was besides himself once more. Sweat was running profusely from his brow as he kept his handkerchief to it.

"Maybe your right. There have been some strange things reported within Towne lately. It is all making me a little jumpy. Lets go back downstairs," Merriam said before we followed him down to the coffeehouse.

When we got down there the place was eerily quiet and the patrons all seemed to have changed. Me and Parker noticed it, but what was strange was that Merriam, from the look of him, didn't recognize any of these people as regulars. There was a tension in the air.

An elderly Massachusetts from Mishawumut village, Charlestown, came in, stood quietly, then just left.

The silence began to get louder. A drone was escalating. The mouths of the people opened in unison. They all stared upon us, without blinking. Glasses broke behind the counter and the vases on the tables shattered.

The patrons stood all at once. We were encircled. The circle began to get tighter as the drone raised in amplitude. We were forced to cover our ears. None of us knew how much longer we could hold our feet.

Then a band of Massachusetts elders came in chanting with the drum and burning something in a shell. Their chant was inaudible, but it canceled out the drone of the patrons. The elders brought silence to the room, even though we can see their mouths moving in a steady rhythm to the drum. The patrons one in all in succession opened their mouths wide open and thew their heads back, and then fell in place.

All of them stood up in turn. Much confused. None of them knew one or the other. Neither did it seem like that any of them recognized the room they found themselves in now. We just quietly stared back at them and watched them look about confused and leave.

Wenepoykin was in the lead of the Massachusetts who came into the coffee house. "Blessings be on you and yours."

"Thank you for your aid," I said to Wenepoykin. He was well known to me and Merriam. His brethren frequented Merriam's for years. They were some of his best customers.

"Quonopohit had noticed them sitting there as he came for his afternoon coffee. We have been noticing the water of the Charles has been quite disturbed from the barges of granite sailing on it. The water spirits have been angry. Many of our homes have been getting into quarrels along the river. The minwàbimewizi has been greatly affected. The granite is not at ease. It is greatly troubled," Wenepoykin says as he makes motions with his hand below to represent the water and then he looks in the air and moves another hand pointing up, "Birds also seemed to act erratic flying over the river losing their direction. Many Englishmen leave the barges in Charlestown that seem to be lost in a fog. There is much bad medicine about them. Many I have seen walking this way, so I waited."

"You think these poor souls who just left will be fine?" asked Parker. Parker seemed to be coming out of another fit. He was not handling this day well. It will be months before he will journey with me again. He swears he will never though.

"Yes, it all depends on how long they were in a trance. Its more about how long have they been amiss from their daily lives that matters," Wenepoykin continues. "I wonder how many wives been missing them, or how many will be unhappy to see them return..." he said with a funny laugh.

Merriam finally stopped chanting under his breathe and released his amulet.

Wenepoykin and Quonopohit filled a canteen with coffee that Merriam wished them well with. Then as Wenepoykin went to take his leave, "Henry, give my blessings to Achak. Ask his grandfather of the Dark Man, he ventured north through the wood of Annisquam as well. He was once repelled from those woods and was forced to feed on the ignorance of the English. You might learn something."

"Me and Parker should be going as well. Is Gideon going to be fine here?" I asked.

"Yes, we just got to orient him back to his current life, but I fear something had to be off pudding to have him succumb in the first place. Demons can't make something out of what is not there, they can just put a wedge in to separate the good wolf from the bad. Then feed the one they want," Merriam said shaking his head. "How long has he been in the pay of Stephen White."

"Quite some time. Yes, they have owned their first ship together, say, 5 years ago," Parker answered.

"I would still watch out for him once he returns to Salem," Merriam warned.

"Keep us informed on sermons in Towne and any spreading of the Illuminati as well," I had asked of my old friend as I shook his hand as I went to leave. When I pulled my hand back I had found one of Solomon's Seals.

Chapter 38:

Fortunes and Pranks

The first harvest was brought in. Celebrations had already began in Salem. Hamilton Hall and Assembly House were busy with the Federalists, with much fanfare for Clay, upon this All Hallow's Eve. Knocker Hole is quiet, for the African's of the city find much superstition to be avoided on this night. Besides Jude who agreed to come to the House of the Rising Sun.

There are bobbing for apples, jests, and fools in the house tonight. I thought I ran far enough away, after goosing Caroline while she was bobbing, but she got me in the back of the head with her apple. My jest proved me the fool.

The bonfire on Lookout Hill drew many as the ship captains burned their old and discarded barrels used for shipping. As we were heading to Lilly's we seen this year's mumming plays. They were singing the old children's tune:

'It's raining; it's pouring.

The old man was snoring.

He went to bed and bumped his head.

And couldn't get up in the morning.'

as 14 people dressed in motley (13 with wooden knives and one with a lead pipe) chased an old man in his nightclothes and cap. Following them were 13 monks in hoods obscuring their faces chanting gibberish as they kept hitting their heads with sacred tomes.

In the corner of Lilly's was Jude, who came over from King Mumford's Tavern for the holiday. She was telling fortunes. I could tell by Caroline's smile and laugh she was learning some embarrassing things about me. Even Kettell, who does not usually go for such things, was lured over to Jude.

Recently Kettell was won over by her. On his way down to the waterfront, the other day, he was passing by her when she had stopped him and said she had seen him in the arms of a certain redhead. A redhead he just became enamored with about fifteen minutes prior. Later that week the redhead within the thralls of love, looked Kettell in the eye and asked him...to ask Jude to leave the room. She had projected her apparition from earlier that week into the future to witness their love making. Her prophecies were always first hand information since she had the ability to manifest anywhere into the future one asks her to visit. Since then Kettell has been a regular at King Mumford's when Jude was holding court. Many say Jude was the Black Queen.

The cattle came in from the Great Pastures before the bonfire was lit. Many in time would be slaughtered for the spring's shipping season. They would winter in the South Fields in various barns. Many of the Hibernians went to the pasture to help herd the cattle for an extra few bucks. Then later came back to supervise the bonfire.

We hired John Remond to come and cook us all a feast. He provided a grand banquet table to satiate all of us. Remond walked up from behind with a great smile and handed me a vat of chocolate milk and went back to his kitchen.

William Parker was singing To Anacreon in Heaven as he was falling drunk into one of Lilly's girl's bosom. Kettell had ran out of the place after talking to Jude with a certain spring to his step. I got a feeling she mentioned that redhead again.

Achak had come in from Ipswich with his family. His kids were running around tossing apples at each other. Their mother was doing her best to keep them corralled in. Achak and me began imbibing in some of my melomel and sharing traditional stories from each of our cultures.

We were amazed to find out that some of the stories we had learned in our boyhoods, that were separated by thousands of miles within two different cultures, were the same. We found out that we both celebrated the dark elves on this night. First we left a little snack, he left some maize and I some gibraltars, at our hearths for the brownies. Then we went to the hills of Paradise to leave some ale and mutton for the spirits of our ancestors and the elves of the underworld.

On the way back, under the full moon, we came upon Malsumsis. In earlier incarnations we were enemies, starting when I first came to the west. In time we fed the good wolf and put to rest the bad. Malsumsis was a skin walker. A coyote man. He was also Achak's brother. "Kwey Achak. Kwey Glooscap."

We both smiled and I shook his forearm.

By the way, he could take the coyote skin at any time. While in the skin he was able to travel between many worlds. He just came back from giving his thanks within the hills of the dark elves.

"Henry, the elves are worried about the Dark Man returning. They are asking us to find his stone and allow them to burry it within the core of the Earth," Malsumsis imparted on us.

Malsumsis was wearing a derby with a leather vest with silver coins as buttons with seed stitching medicine wheels over his lungs and wore linen pants, but he went barefoot. He also wore a great Waltham Marquis watch with chain and hammer fob. He named it Ticker. "Henry, let me give you this watch. It has a magical soul. The elves say that by midnight Stephen White will find the stone."

"So we only have fifteen minutes left, and you are telling us now?" I inquired with a little concern…

"No Henry, Ticker has his own time. He says it is 1:01 am. So you have a little shy of 24 hours to bring it to the opening under Legg's Hill," Malsumsis eased my concerns a little. "Also you can ask Ticker to adjust his hands 4 times each day. Plus by popping his top, you can pause time. There is no limit to how many times you can pause the day. So at least you don't have to worry about that."

I took his gift and placed it in my vest. "Looks like I am going to have to visit the Miskatonic University this night. I hate visiting them on All Hallow's Eve…." I said shaking my head. "Once Herbert West was in there and he made this dead squirrel dance. I never got along with Ratatoskr well..." The thought of that mischievous squirrel sent shivers up my spine.

We went through the great entrance to the Essex Institute past the jack-o'-lantern turnips. I swear one was laughing at me. Malsumsis went in first followed by me next, Achak closed the door. We ventured through the secret passage and came out to find… not Herbert West. Thank god.

Professor Albert Wilmarth was nodding off with his tea still steaming in front of him. His courting candle was screwed low above an ancient book that sat in front of him.

"Albert. Albert," I said shaking him a little. Quite gentle. He easily woke.

"Henry, what is it my dear friend," his bushy eyebrows almost covering his cheeks while he was batting his eyes to remove the gifts the sandman had left behind for him.

"It is a bit of an emergency. We need the stone," I said hoping he would help.

"Why?"

"This here is Ticker," I said showing him the watch, "We have less than 22 hours till Stephen White finds the stone. Which also means he will find my treasures as well. I need to remove the stone from my Chapel. The dark elves are to meet me at the opening on Legg's Hill to bury it in the core of the earth."

"Let me see the watch," the professor bolted up, "That is my watch. How did you find it? Henry, this is the only thing that can have the stone sit in one place. Henry don't hate me; we snuck 15 items into your chapel. At the time we snuck each magic item into your lair it held the stone in it. The stone shifts through time to many pasts and futures where sometimes it is within one item and then another the next. You need to pull the stop on top of Ticker and open all 15 items to find the one which holds the stone stalled in time. Once you find it you can bring it to the dark elves."

Albert got to his feet with his eyebrows battering away. He fought through the bushes and removed the sand from the corner of his eyes. He stretched a little and then went for the wall and pulled down his rapier. A similar blade the musketiere d'Artagnan would of wielded. I forgot Albert was a Gascon, a Basque from near a famous Templar castle that's on the Camino de Santiago. Sometimes he reminds me of the foolishness of Porthos, but he was a direct descendant of d'Artagnan.

Chapter 39:

Day of the Dead

So I led the way for Achak, Albert, and Malsumsis through the tunnels of the Miskatonic University heading for the sheep wall.

The sheep wall is very similar to the one shepherds use. The idea is that two non-connecting walls overlap each other. One in front of the other made of the same material. Only seen from the side will you see the opening in between both walls, but in my case I built the entrance to be seen only from the corner of your eyes where ghosts tend to be only seen. The point where two dimensions meet. This was the entrance to the labyrinth that led to The Chapel.

The labyrinth was filled with pitfalls, devices, and means of self collapsing for the stranger. It was quite complicated with many dead ends or ways into other tunnels leading you off the scent. Though I had my shortcut through it which slid in between the here and now.

We made it into the The Chapel in no time. The professor then began to inform me of the items he smuggled the stone into.

One was an ivory hutch that a Grio in West Africa used to mix incantations on. Another was a lacquered chest from China that held the spirit of the 7 winds. Then there was the golden globe from Sumatra that allowed you to travel anywhere in an instant. The Polynesian sea turtle shell that controlled the currents. The linen sack from India that held the eternal winds that could fill any sails to travel across currents. From Turkey was a chest that held the truth of Christianity that got lost at the Council of Nicaea. The Moroccan carpet bag that held 5 jin. The Irish Kettell and stew that could heal all. The Stretched black bear fur from Russia that created a bear avatar that would do your bidding. The Japanese Shinto house that held a fox spirit. The miraculously unfolding and growing pocket yurt form Mongolia. The hump of the sacred camel from Arabia that was connected to all the lakes in the world. The Egyptian sarcophagus that brought you to a dive restaurant on Saturn. The Antiguan Jug of ever flowing rum. Plus an Eskimo whale bladder that kept you warm in the Arctic Ocean. The stone was in each and everyone of these items and then it wasn't. It was and wasn't at the same time.

I took Ticker out of my pocket and pulled his top. Everyone but myself froze. I then began walking through The Chapel looking for the fifteen magic items Albert listed. Upon opening the twelfth item, the one that led to the dive restaurant on Saturn, I found the stone sitting on the counter of the bar. I walked through and had a seat.

This was going to be a little embarrassing, for the bartender was a woman (at least I think she was considered that on Saturn) that I once had a one night stand with a few hundred years ago. The portal also went back in time when Saturn was a resort colony for Sirius. I have not called in 300 years… Then again, for her it might have been only a few months. Either way she was not looking too happy with me.

The stone was mostly flat, but in reality it folded upon itself in 25 dimensions creating a sphere of sorts… It was a hall of mirrors. Have you ever stood in the middle of three mirrors fashioned together to make a triangle. In it you will see reflections of reflections of yourself. Then there are the reflections that are seen within your eyes. All making an infinite reducing collection of You. Now have all those reflections cast through a multitude of prisms. Plus those prisms then creates a series of reflections of themselves. Ever-folding reflections capturing the person who stood in the middle. Then once you knew how to work the circle to open the gates, the stone would unfold releasing the Black Man. A thing I was hoping no one will ever do; since I still owed him from a poker game I cheated at.

"I um, well...got to go!" I said in a quite sophisticated manner as I snatched the stone and ran back through the portal. A glass titanium goblet made its way though also...just missing my head and breaking Caroline's favorite tea cup.

Somehow, women from your past, distant past (and from another planet even) can and will screw up your current relationships all the time…

Now we needed to exit The Chapel through the pond exit. It was a shaft that led to the island in the center. From there I had a bridge that sat a foot below the water that extended through a series of gears powered by a fall I had hidden on the island fed by an underground channel that powered an undershoot wheel. The bridge extended like a telescope getting skinnier by the time it reached the shore. When we reached the edge of the pond I had it retract.

We then made for the base of Legg's Hill. The three well known hills of the dark elves were Eagle, Legg's, and Paradise. Not a difficult task for anyone to stake out.

As we made it through the trail to the opening before the hill they came at us.

The Committee of Vigilance had teamed up with the New York contingents mixed with the sailors from the White family's ships. In the lead was Stephen. I cracked my back as I pulled my sword from my cane. My roar reverberated through the night.

I parried with the sheath above my head and sliced inward across his chest ripping his shirt as he bent forward moving his stomach back. He twirled on his right foot and swung low from behind my heel, I leaped and connected to his face with a roundhouse. He staggered back. Before he steadied himself I slid in and hooked my right arm behind his knee and thrusted the side of my sheath into his stomach. He fell back into a pine which kept him upright.

He came down on me with both fists holding his pommel from above knocking me to the ground. I rolled to my left and rose into a crouch. He came, I hooked the front of his right ankle with my right hand, swung my body to the outside, lifted up his ankle from the rear and smashed the top of his high thigh with my open left palm. He went staggering almost head first into the pine. He caught his shoulder. I gathered my sword and sheath once more.

He still held his sword firm, swung behind his back in a circular motion. I came inside his arch and hooked my sheath behind his neck as I came with my blade running along the back of my forearm as I smashed it into his stomach. His body pulled away from the blade with such violence that it merged with the movement of my sheath pulling his head forward that his body became level to the ground in the air and fell straight down. He did not move.

I seen a sailor with a cutlass turn on Achak from behind. I ran two steps, sank into a crouch, and rolled off my right foot forward and came up with a slice to the sailors hamstring. Achak thanked me and went for another.

Malsumsis was fighting like a werewolf, he had no problem. If he did, he could always step from this dimension into another and come back behind the assailant if he so chose.

The professor showed his Gascon roots and sliced and diced his way through the fray. He was the first to make it to the foot of the hill. He produced a skin of ale from under his shirt and poured some on a knoll on the hill. Then laid the skin at its foot.

A door opened up and the dark elves emerged. With their appearance the cast of characters ran with Stephen calling for them to stay as he followed their lead.

Frey came through the center of the host and paid me well with a traditional greeting. I then handed him the stone. He was silent, but he smiled. He went through the center once more and the host gathered on him and reentered the knoll. The door closed.

It was a clear night and the stars were out in full. It just past the witching hour of 3 in the morning and the temperature fell 10 degrees. We chose to walk to the top of Legg's Hill to rest and enjoy the heavens. I fell with a pine to my back and leaned in. Albert sat in the field and my two native friends remained standing sharing tales of the stars.

From the corner of the woods came a man whistling. He was dressed as the dandy. He had two silk Dutch handkerchiefs wrapped around his neck. He was flipping a coin, "Heads or Tales?"

We all were standing when we seen the moon cast a light on him. He was made up of a fine silver mist. It was Dick Crowninshield reborn of the dew and the glow. "Heads. If anyone was guessing," Dick had proffered. "Now stop staring at me. All bets are forgiven."

"What happened to you?" I had asked not believing the tales of his suicide.

"Many of my patrons in my gambling hall tend to have a drinking problem. Many of them end up in the prison. For their betterment while inside I forgive some of the guards' debts to me and give them credit from time to time to take it easy on my other patrons while under their supervision. Also the guards pay me back by smuggling in my private stores in the evening to my cell," Dick says with a mischievous air. "So I thought nothing of it as I drank my port, as I have been doing. I lost consciousness." Dick paused before continuing, "When I awoke I found myself still alive fighting for air as I hang from a low window by my own two favorite scarves, my Achilles's tendons strained, my knees bounced off the floor, and two men were pushing hard down on my shoulders. Then another came up and slit my throat."

"I'm sorry," I had said.

"Henry, he died threefold. The Three Fold Death," said Achak. "Our most powerful shamans have entered the other realm, beyond the normal death most of us face, by this means. I know you have similar rituals and stories in your culture."

"Yes, Merlin after he wandered the Scottish highlands. Also men were sacrificed in Denmark to the swamps this way," I agreed.

"Water poisons, Air Strangles, and Earth pierces," Albert interjected.

"Imagine I kept away from all that superstition keeping the African seers out of my brothel, and I die by mumbo jumbo..." said Dick as he sat into a lump on the ground. "But, what was the importance."

"Did you see who did this?" Achak asked.

"No...no my eyes were forced closed from the pain and were filling with fluid."

Albert sat next to him and offered him his flask of port. Dick took it and drank with gusto, but it only fell onto the grass. "That is one sure way to quit," Dick had said as he checked his suit for stains, but it just fell onto the ground.

Chapter 40:

The Two Trials

Joseph Knapp's trial came and went on the 9th of November. He was standing besides himself. Quite visibly deranged from despair and his forced addiction within the prison. He provided no defense and none was given. He was to be hanged by the New Year. As the apple dropped that night, so would he.

Outside the court on the 12th, Mary Bassett had stopped me. "You know me!"

"Yes we have met once before. You were the one who was with George on the night of the murder outside of Salem."

"Will I have my time to speak my peace?"

"I will make sure you will." She thanked me and I had walked with her into the gallery of the court. I led her to Dexter's side, George's attorney, and informed him that this was his witness.

Just after the judge called the court to order the other Mary had a seat in the gallery.

In time Bassett was called to the stand. Dexter had asked her if she could provide an alibi for George on April 6th. She said she could. Bassett provided to the court her story that he had arrived at her place of business at 10 pm and by 11 pm they were involved in an Irish Knee Knocker. The court held back bursts of laughter.

Webster had just stood up to discredit her testimony and character when the other Mary, who was the madame, interrupted him and yelled from the gallery, "And by 11:30 he was resting his head on her bosom and I was riding high on top of 'em. We were on and off like that till 6 in the morning." The court could not hold back no more and broke out into laughter and Webster just sat down.

George Crowninshield was acquitted.

Basset ran to the dock and hugged and kissed George as they removed the shackles from him. The two of them walked down the aisle past Webster and Mary stuck her tongue out at him and he just hung his head in his hand. As they passed the other Mary, she joined his other arm and the three of them exited the building to celebrate. I assume in the fashion that arose from their testimony in court today.

I was reading Hawthorne's Hollow of Three Hills in the Salem Gazette in my coach while traveling to see Parker which was printed on the first page. Further in I read that the Holyoke's Salem Bank had been robbed. They had blasted the iron tunnel door. The robbers had entered from the Federalist tunnel in the front. Many tunnel systems connected to this point to deposit their money through. The tunnels were no secret in those days. There had been way too many sailors who had passed through them moving cargos from the ships to keep them quiet for long. No money was taken.

At one time I had hidden my treasures under Holyoke's bank, but that was many years ago.

"Have I told you about what happened to me on All Hallow's Eve? No, then I shall," from experience I have learned not to try to stop Louie from one of his tales, "You see I went up to Eagle's Hill where me and my friends were to have a private bonfire. I got there a little before the rest.

I thought I heard my bloke Daniel further up the trail on the ascend to the top. Then I got closer and I heard it was a feminine voice. A melodic voice. Slightly seducing as I came nearer.

I almost was upon her and she was no where in sight. I just stood there dumbstruck. Then I heard her voice again, 'Down here you horses arse!' I looked down and I had seen a horny toad, at least I

felt horny until I had seen her... She had asked me for a kiss.

Now I knew of the story of the Frog and the Princess, was I suppose to kiss her as she had asked or throw her against the wall... I sided with the kiss. I had lifted her up and planted one square on the lips and as I pulled away her tongue struck my eye. I dropped her and she turned into a woman.

She might of turned into a princess, but not a pretty one. As she was gathering herself together and began to stand up, still in a bit of a daze, I just slunk away down the hill.

I never seen my blokes that night. My friend Daniel, still finds her within his bed these weeks later. Daniel has never been that picky. Later this month they sail for her father's kingdom in Luxembourg."

I folded my paper and smacked it on my lap and shook my head. We had just arrived at William's house on Pleasant Street just off the Common. His son George met me at the door before he was leaving. He bid me farewell and told me that his father was in the second parlor to the right.

When I found him he was fiddling with his fiddle. "Oh Henry, good to see you. I have a strange tale for you," he could hardly contain himself as he placed the fiddle down and began bouncing on his couch. "Its Isaac! My cousin had returned from the dead. On the witching hour I seen him stride across my bedroom as I was about to sneak down to the kitchen for some of Anne's pie she was saving for her tea social...Shh! I had seen him. He was murdered!"

He explained that the judge was come upon by two strangers in robes chanting. He was feeling the effects of a fine wine he had earlier, that was not doing him fine. In fact he retired early after a half glass. He took to his feet at the sounds of someone rushing him, but could not find his legs. The one who came at him from the front grabbed his chin and forced some amber liquid down his throat and withdrew. He had dropped a wine bottle in front of him which shattered into two jagged halves. The man in back threw him forward onto the broken bottle. Isaac rolled over on his back with the bottle in his neck. He found himself poisoned, choking, and stabbed in the neck.

In court and the papers they had thought they were protecting Parker's good name by not mention his death from a drinking incident. Why blemish the reputation of this once fine statesman they thought.

"Ain't that amazing Henry. I am becoming strange as you are," William had said wide eyed with a grin. "I have been thinking I will visit the Hutchinsons on High Rock Tower in Lynn. Imagine those mediums living above where Moll Pitcher once lived and breathed. You know she read for Washington. Then Howe, the next..." He was so happy he kept bouncing in his seat.

"You are talking about your cousin! Why are you so happy?"

"I got to see something stranger than you!" William said with a shaking low smile. "I have been waiting all my life to see something strange, and I did, I did, I did."

Later in life when he could not walk up the hill to the Hutchinsons no longer, he had his two grandsons make him a spirit board to talk to the dead. The Parker Brothers had no problem doing this.

William and I had Louie drop us off at Derby Wharf. We had kept the Anti-Masons, the Mormons, and Stephen White from ever getting to the Dark Man. Though, I still had to worry about the Illuminati and the vampires still at large.

Also there was the never ending threat of keeping the Templar treasures safe which is a never ending battle. So me and William figured we would poke around the docks to see if we could hear any gossip.

As we were scurrying around Derby Wharf the USRC Oscar was pulling into shore. This cutter was captained by Henry Prince Jr. (Don't say it…). His father had bought the Derby homestead across from the wharf. They had built the store to the back left of the house, but in 1827 they fell on hard times and the Derby house was foreclosed on. The Asiatic Bank held the note. This was the bank that Stephen White owned. In a strange twist of fate, it was White who assumed the role of hero. He got the elder Prince a home, but was quite mean. Besides that, the elder Prince seemed to be in the debt and service to White. There was some strange connection there to still be found out.

The Princes also were member of the Salem Common Improvement Fund. This was the fund that was disguised as the public work project that filled in the ponds in the Common and took down the hills. As you will remember, this was the group who extended the tunnels in Salem to avoid Jefferson's duties in 1800.

Now in 1827 the Princes continued to help those who participated in the fund to avoid paying future duties as they became a custom inspector and captain of the revenue cutter. At this time Stephen White and Joseph Story were head of the Second Corp of Cadets that were secretly in control of further engineering of the tunnels after Elias Hasket Derby Jr. left for New Hampshire. This was before I was forced to kill him.

As we walked past the old section of the wharf and continued onto the elongated section we seen Henry jump off his ship and head down the wharf.

He did not see us as we came upon him, his mind was still on securing the ship and all that entails. He was answering our greeting from over his shoulders, but he was not conscious of who we were yet. "Hemings, leave now and obtain a wagon and the scales from the custom house. We need to ascertain the value of the cargo we confiscated today and put it down properly in our logs."

"My dear Henry!" William said louder. Henry turned. "We are looking for news about our coast, my good man have you seen any ships that might have put any rowboats to shore surreptitiously under the cover of the blanket of the stars?"

"Umm…no." he paused. A pregnant pause. "No I have not. Why do you ask?"

"There has been many strange things going on as of late. Well to be truthful, most of this year." William replied with a strange little laugh.

"What is the cargo you just apprehended?" I had asked.

"What cargo?"

"The cargo you just sent your man Hemings to get the scale and cart for."

"What cart?"

I could see where this was going. William was about to ask another question when I grabbed him by the shoulder and led both of us away further up the wharf. Out of the corner of my eye I had seen Long attending to some of the rigging on the cutter. That is when I figured it best to end our conversation with Henry. What was Long doing with Prince?

Further up we had seen my friend Nathaniel West. He had once owned the mansion that Captain White was murdered in. "Henry! Good to see you!" he said as he came up put one arm around my shoulder and the other hand clasped my forearm. "William good to see you old man!" He had said as he shook Parker's hand.

After a hard fought divorce from his wife Elizabeth Derby he got to keep the very wharf we were standing on from her father's will. At first Elias Sr. thought he was a gold digger, but in time he proved to be a valuable boon to the family. More than the elder Derby had thought of any of his children. West became his favorite. "Henry, William… will you join me at my country estate tonight for dinner?"

Upon his x-wife's, who had her brother Elias scour the brothels of Boston and Salem paying any women he could find to testify during the divorce proceedings that they had slept with Nathaniel while he was married to her, death his daughters gave him back Oak Hill which she forbade them to do. They always were daddy's little girls.

I was even here the day in which Junior and Elizabeth came to fist to cuffs with Nathaniel on the dock. That was one hell of a day watching Henry run and duck from Elizabeth's blows, but knock out Junior in one punch. After that punch is when Elizabeth started chasing him landing a few blows before Nathaniel jumped aboard a china cutter just leaving. It was not until the ship was rounding his cousin's Crowninshield Wharf at the end of the neck did he feel it was safe to jump ship and swim back to shore.

"Nathaniel, we would be glad to come! Thank you!" I said.

"Will you join me in my carriage?"

"Yes, just let me inform Louie to pick us up this evening."

"Good. What brings you to the wharf today?"

"We were looking for answers to many questions." I said with a look of disconcertion.

"This sounds like a good talk for this evening, for now lets have some live ribaldry."

Chapter 41:

Oak Hill

We rode with Nathaniel to South Parish to the Derby farm called Oak Hill. The property that his x-wife ordered their children to never give part and parcel to their father. In fact they gave him, parts of the house first which he constructed a new home on Chestnut Street with; then the whole parcel with the rest of the home that remained in place.

Elizabeth was an old battle axe, even to her daughters. She secretly resented her brother Elias Junior for receiving their father's mansion where the town hall is now. Elizabeth is the one who first informed me about her brother. He was smuggling his victims in through the tunnels to the family mansion and exsanguinating them. She didn't tell me for the safety of the town, but just for her own personal revenge.

Some say her own bitterness had brought her to an early grave. Others hint that her brother had drained her. Well, we will never know since the family chose to have a closed casket.

Nathaniel's daughter Sarah had greeted us at the door. She was very pretty in a dress a few seasons old, but none the less elegant. Very sensible and not an ounce as outrageous as her mother. She had a simple clean beauty about her. "Hello, Father. I see you have brought some guests. Let me run and tell mother." Henry's second wife was much kinder to his children than their own mother was.

We went through the house and I had petted his two Irish Wolf Hounds, Jenks and Main, as we continued on to the summer house in the back. A grand and narrow affair with statuary. Honey as he called her had some ice water with lemons and mint waiting for us. The three of us had a seat out of the late fall sun. Honey came back with a plater of cheese, grapes, olives, meats, bread and oil. She sat with us.

"Nathaniel, what are the stories on the wharf have you heard? Anything about Perkins and White?" I had asked in between bites of the antipasto.

"Ebenezer has sailed back from Canton. He has been a bit edgy." Nathaniel said with concern. His brother had spent 4 years on a British prison ship during the Revolution. They said it did something to him. Scarred him a little. "He has been imbibing in the laudanum and absinthe ever since his first trip with Perkins to China."

Ebenezer had mastered the Grand Turk for Derbys when Thomas Perkins was supercargo. That trip was the second to sail to China from our nation. The first to Canton. Perkins was quick to see the economics of the opium trade. Also his cousin was the Turkish minister for England who quickly arraigned for him cheap sales of opium from Afghanistan.

"Edgy?" William asked with a quizzical look. William had always found good company with Ebenezer. Ebenezer was able to relax around the old badger.

"They say he spent the last quarter of the trip in his cabin leaving the ship to his first mate," Nathaniel said with concern. "When I had seen him last evening, he looked quite pale and would not show his face to me. I have been worried for him for a long time now, but I am fearing there is more to be concerned about now."

"What was his cargo?" I had asked.

"Opium. Which was to be expected," Nathaniel paused to reflect upon his answer, "but most of the hold was empty by the time he docked. I have no idea what he was hauling. Did he smuggle it to shore prior to docking?"

"You were captured during the war as well," William asked, "but, why did you fair so well?"

"Captain Gayton captured me with my luck," Nathaniel said with a smile. "I had known him from the docks of Salem since I was knee high to a grasshopper. He gave me rank on a ship, midshipmen. Under a kindly soul named of Edwards, I had served my time. We had quite many healthings between us three.

Then one day they had me head a press gang hunting through the poor pubs in Whitechapel. One of the men who I spared from the open seas, gave me a ride in his chest on his carriage to Lisbon where I found the Oliver Cromwell sailing back to Salem. My tenure was a walk in the park next to my brother's. I do pity the horrors he has seen that the laudanum tries to mask for him."

"Any story about Stephen White?" I had asked.

"It is a strange affair with the Revenge. There was nothing that the Old Captain loved more than revenge he could have on others," Nathaniel pondered, "Losing that ship might have brought ruin to Knapps' two children. Our trip to Naples might have ruined Crowninshield's two sons."

"It was the end of the Embargo Act and shipping beyond American waters continued once more. We all thought we were safe from the British and the French impressment, then we sailed to Naples and lost 4 ships to Admiral Marat in Napoleon's service. The first three ships were owned by Richard Crowninshield Senior, and Joseph White.

They could not wait to sail against Jefferson's old mandate. Lickety-split they were caught and lost to the spoils of war." Nathaniel pauses and smiles, "So was my ship the Minerva. I was lucky though...Napoleon's little brother Lucien, who had a falling out, needed an escape from Italy since it just came under Napoleon's thumb. I was to sail him to Malta, but we were captured by the British Fleet just beyond the sea. Once we arrived in Liverpool, they turned Lucien into a hero for his animosity against his brother, and they just sent me home."

"I hear stories of Webster, John Quincy, and Clay visiting his brother Joseph's Point Breeze mansion off the Delaware in NJ, just north of Admiral Lawrence's boyhood home." I added. "A fine park he had built on the property he leaves opens to the public, with strange tunnels exiting a man made cairn leading to the mansion and river."

"A story I have been told was Clay overheard there were no rooms in the Astor hotel in New York and gave up his room for the once king." William came into the conversation again.

"Yes, Joseph was sent to Italy to disturb their little brother's tenure and to recapture him," Nathaniel agreed. "King of Italy and Spain. In reality it was him that Rothschild really fought in the Peninsular Wars."

"Rothschilds and Peabody have gone far since the days of the carrier pigeon. Peabody through his friend Alexander Brown have been working with Charles Grafton Page's telegraph. There is rumors his device will be the better bet over Morse's. The two have bet their fortunes on fast communication." Nathaniel continued.

"I am sorry Honey, all this talk seems to leave you out in the cold," I said apologizing my best and trying to incorporate her into our gathering. "How is your mead doing?"

"Fine. I did try your melomel and yesterday was two weeks, would you like a goblet?"

"Yes I would."

"Also, I know a little about what is going on as well. For husbands brag and women gossip as they say," Honey paused to lean in on her chair to juxtapose her weight in a saucy manner. "There is talk that wires have reached Salem from Baltimore. Page's telegraph is functional. Below the lines is a rail being built by Peabody and Brown. The state has hampered trains to the north, but they are in favor of rails from the south. It will be in no time that politics will change and rails will be here in Salem," At this Honey produced a cigar from her skirts, crimped, lit, and exhaled a ring of smoke, "Peabody and the Rothschilds believe that a vampire epidemic mixed with the removal of the Cherokee would turn the tides of popular consent against Jackson. So he is helping to create a rail to distribute the vampires into the major east coast cities."

"How do you know!" William did not say this outright, but we all heard his tone implying that a woman could never know anything of real import.

Honey stood up and extinguished her cigar in his bread oil, "Oh just because a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, we can figure a few things out on our own."

"Oh Henry, what has your man Louie heard about the travels of the New Yorkers?" Nathaniel had asked me as he was sitting back relaxing with a smile of pride in his wife.

"Louie, says that more and more Anti-Masons and Mormons are coming in and filling the hotels and brothels on Derby Street. Go figure, I wonder how many of those Mormons can fit in one bed," I laughed. I truly was thinking about how many of these two groups have found out about the treasures I have hidden within The Chapel.

"Also, a ship sailing from Germany has docked. My friend Ward, who is the ship doctor, has brought news that William Russell had met with Adam Weinstaupt, the founder of the Illuminati. He had spent a month with him up to the time of his demise. Ward says he had set sail the day before him and he is embarking for Salem," Nathaniel said with some concern.

"With the shake up in Canton and the sudden death of the Forbes boy, there has been talk for some time of consolidating Russell & Co. with James & Thomas H. Perkins & Co.," Honey came in again. "William Russell's cousin Samuel owns the company. Just more bad news out of New Haven."

"Yep, Old Put. He brought the charter to New Haven for the state's first lodge. Granted his side of the family was no friend of Thomas', but he is a Putnam," William said shaking his head. "They have been doing some strange things, making Cryptic Masons, things that the governing lodge in Boston are thinking of revoking their charter for."

"It was only 9 years after Old Put's death that Dr. Timothy Dwight IV fell to the spell of Illuminati under Morse and took over his lodge. Remember Morse was using the threat of the French and Illuminati bringing the guillotine politics to America that drove a further wedge between the Republicans and Federalists," Honey educated us while smoking another cigar.

"Yep, the whole time they were secretly practicing at Yale. We can see testimony of this by their decision of sending Russell to Bavaria. The gall of them pointing the finger at our Rev. Bentley. Granted Bentley did sit on the fence though..." William added with his lower lip stuck out with his hand at his side shaking his head from side to side.

"Wasn't Rev. Morse Samuel's father?" Honey asked.

"I believe you are right. I ponder if in time Peabody and Rothschild will jump ship on Page and go for Morse's telegraph?" I said.

"So how did Stephen get involved with the Dark Man and all of this Illuminati hocus pocus?" Nathaniel asked.

"Webster's wife was spreading stories all over town about her shopping trip near Niagara. She was touting the latest fashions from London by way of Canada. It seems her husband and White were looking for forests to strip for a ship building venture on Noodle's Island when they had met Morgan," she pauses before she continues. "That was during the week before his disappearance. I wonder if they heard his secrets and had him murdered, blaming the local lodge?"

"Could you think Webster and White are behind the creation of the Anti-Masonic party?" William asked laughing shaking his head at the absurd notion.

"Pipe down you little badger, yes they could of. Ever since John Quincy Adams lost the election and Stephen being the man behind the campaign, he has lost much respect within the National Republican Party," Honey kept putting William in his place. "Especially after John Quincy's letters implicating Webster being at the Hartford Convention. Look they nominated their friend Clay over Webster. Webster will do anything for the presidency and so will White as the man pulling his levers. They are rehashing Morse's attack against Jeffersonians as French Illuminati, this time against Democrats as Freemasons who will do anything above the law. Like kidnapping and murder. All Hail King Jackson and all...If the Anti-Masons can make more of a stink to discredit Jackson, sure Webster is going to join them if he thinks they are holding more sway than Clay's Republicans. Those two are like two peas in a pod ̶ with knives at each others bellies. Just waiting for enough room to stab one and another."

"Where does Perkins stand in this all?" Nathaniel asks as he rubs Honey's shoulders.

"Perkins and White are at two different stances on the National Bank," I answer. "White likes the control he has through Judge Story's appointment to the bank in Philadelphia. Perkins is trying to throw the power to Baring Brother's overseas. There is great money coming in from England to control our treasury. Already they own 70% of the notes from Congress. Just like they did in the First National Bank. Perkins is their guarantee. Now he is coming to the forefront of the Federalists in Boston."

"Speaking about Perkins, I have not figured him out and the Vampires? The rumors are that they are sent to kill him, but he is helping them hide and spread..." Nathaniel said with a very confused look on his face.

"Oh I believe they will kill him, but they are toying with him and using him for all he is worth," I said shaking my head. "I have heard rumors that there is a crack squad of soldiers and generals from Canton that Lin had converted to vampires as punishment for letting the opium infect the country. These are not the cannon fodder addicts, he turned, which he has been dumping in our ports. These are well trained forces in xīnyìquán Shaolin Wushu.

There are stories of Thomas' brother James and a few of his nieces are under close watch or confinement by them in Canton and in Boston. Lin needs the Perkins influence to make the rails and hide the vampires as Chinese workers building them. Plus their main goal is to infect us with the opium or the blood."

"We do find ourselves in trying times," Nathaniel said while sipping his brandy sitting back in his chair as his wife just brought us three plates of pie, excluding William.

Chapter 42:

Louie's Dilemma

Before leaving the house, Nathaniel inquired if I had seen Gideon. At one time we were both close friends with him. I shook my head and Nathaniel understood the full meaning without me continuing any further. During the meal while Honey was laying into William we discussed Gideon while his wife distracted William or anyone else who might be listening.

Gideon, he informed me, has been for some time rousting people for Stephen's Detection of Thieves and Robbers for years. He kept ignoring this in his friend, but lately he has heard rumors that it was Gideon who threw the first match in my neighborhood. He has been building opposition between the Democrats and Federalist, discreetly, for years. Now he had full power to use the Committee of Vigilance to abuse anyone.

As me and William were leaving Oak Hill we seen Sarah's coach leave in a hurry and Louie was in a stupor.

"Louie. Louie. Old Boy. Me gotta go! Where is your head old man?" William had asked after he got in and shook him for a little.

"Sorry guv'nor." Louie said with a quizzical smile. His face was quite flush. Louie snapped the reins and we were on our way.

William and I had much to ponder and remained silent, each of us processing what we just learned. It was not until we crossed the Ipswich River, that we realized Louie was heading the wrong way for Salem.

The Badger was the first to notice, "My man, where are you heading?"

"Was that the river, I'm sorry. My head is swimming in the Milky Way. That Sarah..." Louie seemed to me enamored. "You think a rich lady like that could ever like one the likes of me. I mean, I am a cabbie. She is a socialite, and a Lady! I mean her mother broke many conventions. She married Nathaniel, who some thought to be lower than her. I mean, there is a lot to me. You wouldn't think it at first, but there is!

Take my pewter collection. Platers and goblets of various sizes. When we wed, will she keep them out on display or will they be relegated to the root cellar. What about my enjoyment of mens hosiery and shoes; will I have to share my dresser and closets?

Though she kissed me. Me of all persons! Oh she got me wondering what is under her pantaloons! She got me feeling like a rutting beaver ready to thump some wood..."

"That is enough. Don't go any further! I have heard enough," this was too much for a man whose wife was beyond her wifey duties in years.

"I agree with William, you have gone too far Louie," I said with a smile. "We just passed Richardson's Dairy."

At that Louie noticed a loose chicken in the middle of the road and veered the horses to avoid it, but the chicken flew up into Louie's face and cast feathers in our direction.

Behind me was a silent laugh. A laugh that hovered above us. It was Harvey, the Pooka. "What have you to do with all of this my friend?" I asked as I turned in my seat and time began to freeeze.

"What are you particularly alluding to my friend." was his answer through a smug grin.

"The kiss, Sarah, Louie, the daze we all found ourselves in...the chicken. All of it."

The chicken was frozen with a claw almost dug into Louie's face. Louie's face was having a hard time deciding to move forward, to the left, or backward, with various parts going in all directions before it froze. William was caught off the seat in midair badger bounce. "So what have you learned Henry after your meeting?"

"Vampires from China are being supported by their future menu option. Perkins is building them a railroad with Peabody's help and a line of communication. Stephen White has connected various factions of religious nuts trying to resurrect an ancient destructive god. White and Perkins disagree who should control the Second National Bank; White or Baring Brothers. The Chinese have sent an elite troop of vampires to Boston and continue to send converted opium addicts disguised as railroad workers. They are looking to have us poisoned by our own drug or their tainted blood. William Russell is in league with Perkins and he is coming back from visiting the founder of the Illuminati in Germany. Peabody is using threats of Illuminati's influence over Masons to weaken popular support for Jackson. Webster is jumping ship to Anti-Masonic party to run against Clay supported by White..."

"Henry, I believe you don't need me to confuse you. You got there all on your own." Harvey vanished. The chicken dug into Louie's face which flew all over the place to avoid it digging deeper in. William kept bouncing, swatting feathers, and spitting some out. I just sat there shaking my head thinking that the trickster was right. I was very confused on my own trying to keep everything straight.

Chapter 43:

Harvest

 

Lilly held Thanksgiving for us. The Hibernians were present. In fact many of them helped Lilly cook and serve. Caroline's Boys were running about. Many of those who still didn't rebuild from the fire also joined us.

At my table sat William and family, Kettell, Caroline, Nathaniel and Honey, Achak and family, Malsumsis, and Louie. Louie was still fawning over Nathaniel's daughter. I was not sure if he was under the Pooka's curse or not?

Achak and Malsumsis, prior to coming to dinner, left a blessing of gourds and maize at the old Roger Williams house. Williams supported Metacomet who sent his women and child to be protected by the Narraganset and Williams in Providence. Also Williams defended Native property during his time in Salem.

Metacomet was son of Massasoit who befriended the Pilgrims and kept them alive during the first harsh winters. Then the Pilgrims killed Metacomet's brother after Massasoit's death which started the King Phillips War.

Along the way to Williams' old homestead, Achak and Malsumsis had tossed soft rotten gourds at the Federalists within the McIntire District. Not many braved to complain. Especially against a skin walker.

This was our region's Native tradition.

At the next table was King Mumford with his family and Lady June. They actually sat with John Remond and his family. John appreciated being served for a change.

"Hey Henry! Have you read my newest story in the Gazette; The Battle Omen!" Hawthorne said moving his arms apart with a large smile.

"One day, they even will print your name next to the story..." William chided him.

"Rats on you!" said Hawthorne walking away in disgust.

I wondered if there were real omens of the coming battle. I was just hoping that it would not turn out to have multiple fronts, which I fear it will in the end.

My thoughts changed quickly after Caroline got up from her seat and put her arms around me and asked if there is anything she could get me from the kitchen. "Chocolate milk???" I answered with a helpless look on my face and a head shrug to the left.

"Henry the woods are all disturbed," Achak said leaning in. "There hasn't been any hunt for weeks. The woods are barren of life. It feels like we are being followed by invisible forces. Henry, there is a storm coming."

"I feel it too in town. Everyone feels like they have been walking under a cloud," I agreed. "It feels like winters coming soon and hard."

"Enough of that, my brother can get morose at the wrong times," Malsumsis changed the subject. "Lets celebrate. There is a fine meal in front of us. You Henry, are getting your chocolate milk. Life can't be any better at this moment!" The three of us had a good laugh as I gave another shrug and stuck my lower lip out.

Then I noticed William following one of Lilly's girls upstairs, but he caught Anne's look and shifted his direct to the kitchen and the girl went up without him with a laugh.

Caroline came back and sat on my lap and presented me my chocolate milk. I had one large sip and Caroline kissed my milk mustache off. Not before taking a taste of it with her finger. We sat there and watched Achak's kids run by. The youngest son was running with the wishbone with the others in chase.

Hawthorne took William's seat and started asking Kettell about the obscure facts about Columbus. Hawthorne was thinking he might get enough info to base a character on for a new short story for the Gazette.

Along the bar, the Hibernians were gathering up to take down Bjorn in arm wrestling. Nobody over the last 8 Thanksgiving could every beat this bear of a man. It was our Thanksgiving tradition and Bjorn's tradition of winning.

I once beat him after everyone had filed out. I promised I would not tell. I am not sure if he even let me win...When I asked a few years later he just winked and walked away.

Honey and Anne, William's wife, were laughing and speaking under their breathes. Those two could get in trouble from time to time. William came back, and they got quiet. William walked away staring over his shoulder with a look of death, but they just laughed as he went by and continued on.

West walked over to the band and asked them to play a few reels and marches to dance to. As the piper and the drum began Nathaniel started the dance. Jude had left Mumford to join him. I followed next with Caroline in tow. Achak's youngest kids just danced and hopped around us. Many of the Hibernians followed in next with Lilly's girls. Lilly just sat up on the bar and watched.

I then seen Louie dance with an invisible partner. He stopped when he seen me looking. I think the Pooka was still playing with him. He just sat in the corner and turned into the wall in a huff, but soon was daydreaming again about West's daughter Sarah.

On the bar was a line of unfinished drinks that began to empty on their own. Pookas, I have found out, are hard drinkers. Later I heard a high invisible belch.

After the dinner me and Caroline took a walk down to the Coondocks.

It happened to be midnight when we left and it was a full moon low tide. So we went to the foot of Turner Street next to Hawthorne's cousins house. We sat on the bench overlooking the water and looked behind us.

Like clockwork, two black cats came out of their yards on either side of the street. They stood guard as a family of raccoons walked in between them and passed us. They climbed down the seawall to the exposed beach and began to clam.

We always had fun watching this family scurry about. Sometimes Caroline, like tonight, had something special for them. She had a half loaf of pumpkin bread. One of the oldest climbed up her knee and she fed him a little. He stepped back and held the bread in between his articulate hands and had a good meal. He gave a little thank you nod and went back on all fours to join his family on the beach. Caroline and him were old friends. I think her family even kept him for a year while he was healing from a coyote wound.

Caroline then just stretched out and placed her head on my lap as we watched the stars for a little and talked about little sweat nothings while I stroked her hair. Life was good.

Chapter 44:

Politics and Magic

Louie drove William, Kettell, and me to Towne. Henry Clay had come to Boston to deliver a campaign speech. Also Peabody and Perkins were attending another open session in the State House about the state of railroads.

Once we got into Towne we headed up Tremont to Beacon Street and passed the Tremont House. The marvels of our times. This hotel had indoor plumbing and free soap. It was created by the same architect who built the Astor Hotel in New York City. This was the home of Stephen White. He has not been in his home in Salem as much due to his position within the state legislature that met around the corner.

I believe Clay and Webster sold him on hotel living after tales of living in Mrs. Hewitt's and Mrs. Arguelles' boarding houses in Washington.

We rounded Beacon Street with the Common to our left and Louie let us out in front of the State House. Behind the State House was the hill that once had three peaks. Bulfinch had used a funicular railroad to take down three of those peaks and distributed it into Mill Pond and the mud flats of the Charles River. While everyone watched the dirt being hauled from the hill, nobody noticed him sneaking dirt from the tunnels he was digging under Beacon Hill.

First they connected John Hancock's old tunnels to the new State House and then continued them beyond up and down Hancock Street to Harrison Gray Otis's mansion. Otis was a member of the Essex Junto and governor at the time who hired Bulfinch. The Mount Vernon Properties was originally owned by the painter John Singleton Copley. Otis confiscated the property without paying the painter in full which resulted in a drawn out lawsuit since Copley was living in London at the time. Then they began connecting the rest of the mansions in the area.

This was the plan Elias Hasket Derby Jr. copied in Salem six years later by taking three hills in the Common down and filling in 5 ponds and a river. He met Bulfinch in Salem while he was building a Poor House and farm. Bulfinch had lots of trouble building the foundation and the tunnels that exited the Poor House. The walls kept cracking, until he realized that he was building on vent tunnels from the ancient volcano in the harbor.

"Brrr..." Louie said shaking his head. "Politicians make me itch. Never trusted them. There was this politicky gentlemen who I lost a bet to.

He bet me that behind this particular drinking house that at one time was a pond. A pond that was there till one cold winter evening. He said that many mallards would swim in that pond. Then one evening the sun went low and the moon rose and the temperature fell quickly.

It fell so quickly that the mallards did not have enough time to fly away. They froze in place. They remained for a short while and then it became time for them to leave. In one group motion they began flapping their wings...and the pond rose with them like one big chunk of ice.

He bet me they flew away with the pond. So I bet him a weeks salary that he was lying. I made this bet in that pub in the spring.

By god, do you know what happened right after I put my money on the bar? A flock of mallards flew behind the pub, with the ice, and sank into the empty depression. It was a little before noon and the ice quickly melted and the birds flew away and so did my money." Louie paused and looked up to the heavens before he finished. "After the gentlemen grabbed my money, finished his beer, then lifted his carpet bag and left the bartender informed me that he sits there every spring waiting for a sucker like me to sit next to him right before the mallards returned from their winter journey."

"Louie, I really worry for you," William said as he stepped down from the carriage and walked past his horses who tried nipping at him. William did a little badger hop away and brushed his jacket. Me and Kettell disembarked with a little laugh. Louie was feeding his horses with an apple on a stick as we left for the State House.

Once we got to the second floor we walked through Memorial Hall before we entered the Nurses Hall for the stairs. We seen Perkins who made a huff and quickened his step to avoid our shadow from dirtying him. He went up the right steps and we went up the left stairs to avoid him.

At the top we seen Perkins enter the House Chambers under the dome. We continued to the right to the stairs leading to the balcony gallery.

We took our seats and waited. Below we can see Governor Lincoln come in for the talks today. To his right was Stephen White. William B. Calhoun of Springfield was the Speaker of the House. It has been 18 years since the Democrats had the majority. White had Calhoun elected for the National Republican Party to control the House.

Calhoun called the House to order. The first bill called to the floor was for a rail to extend from Noodles Island to Salem. Old man Tucker and William Bartoll from Marblehead sat in opposition to the bill believing it as a means for Salem to monopolize the sea trade. This would have been the last ditch effort for Salem with its shallow ports to resurrect or hold off the inevitably. Already most of the shipping has moved to Boston with its deeper harbors. Marblehead was also feeling the end coming soon, resented being put out to pasture before her neighbor.

After much debate and angry tantrums the rail to Salem was refused, but rails from Boston to Lowell, Worcester, and Providence were passed.

Perkins won the day over White. Perkins felt the pinch on state funds and thought it was more important to have a rail to Lowell where he could ship goods from the deeper port of Boston to his

mill in Lowell and finished goods back to her harbor. White had believed he was in line with him on the rail to Salem, but I believe their differences on the National Bank also moved Perkins to put his influence on Calhoun.

Also I believe Perkins was stalling the vampires from getting a means of transportation out of Salem. The gentlemen who were called the Boston Traders were in fact were Salem men through and through. Salem was the target of Lin's revenge.

As we went back down the stairs to the Nurses Hall we seen Peabody in conference with Calhoun over the rails to the south.

We ventured down one more floor and out the front where Louie was waiting for us. He was feeding his horses gibraltars he found in the cab when they dropped out of my pocket. It was a strange sight seeing these horses all gums and teeth drooling moving their jaws sucking on them. By the time we got there Louie was feeding the last one to his favorite filly. "Sorry Guv'nor. The apples just wetted their appetite and they were getting quite ornery. The gibraltars were the only thing I had."

Louie then drove us to the steps of the Old State House. In front of it was a great stage and a few thousand already had flocked around it waiting for the "Great Compromiser." Scurrying in the corner behind a lamppost was Black Dan. Rumors were growing that Webster was making a break from the party to the Anti-Masonic Party to run against Clay. Surrounding him were some of the followers of Yog-Sothoth.

At a quarter to 2, Clay took the stage. Much flag waving and promises were made. He whipped the crowd into a fury of rage against King Andrew the I. To his left was John Quincy Adams, who Clay served under as his Secretary of State. Prior to him Quincy read a speech praising Clay and his objectives before introducing his candidate. What was most noticeable was the lack of Quincy's mentioning the man who beat him in the second campaign for the presidency. Many people thought Adams stole the first election from Jackson.

Within the crowd were many of Boston's elite sons of the old Federalists who sent their ships to ply on the China Trade. Any of the wealth generated in this crowd was upon the deaths of the vast amount of youths within China who died by the poppy. Plus many of the poorer sorts were the working sailor who owed their daily bread from loading and sailing the plant to the Sino.

Within the center I had seen a very gentile Asian with a formidable bearing. He wore traditional robes showing signs of affluence. His skin was pale, almost translucent. He made two gestures with his head to the left and then the right. Men circled out from the center of the crowd and flew off their cloaks and brandished butterfly swords and began slashing. Bulfinch's police who were lined up near the stage moved into the fray with pistols out. They could not get more than a shot or two off before they were cut down. Soon the crowd had more than blood on their hands.

From around Webster the Yog-Sothoth followers moved into the melee. I was almost ready to crack my back and enter the battle, but the Yog-Sothoth followers and the vampires were canceling out each others' threats as those who survived the original onslaught was heading toward State Street toward the harbor.

William already had ran the other way when Kettell grabbed me and shook his head and pointed me toward the last place we had seen William. I was reminded how fast badgers are, no matter how old they are.

We finally caught up with William and headed toward the Commercial Coffee House hoping Louie had headed that way.

Before we crossed Merriam's threshold, I noticed several sigils and helms surrounding the door frame. Kettell noticed them too and crossed himself. William just scurried his way in.

Inside we seen Louie talking up a lass. It seems the Pooka's spell was broken. Toward the back was Malsumsis. William sat with Louie and the young lady and began flirting with her as well.

In front of Malsumsis was Merriam sitting with various Shawmuts. Most were Malsumsis' kin. All were skin walkers. They were in a conference with Merriam and other Masons after visiting the dimensions in between Yog-Sothoth and the realm of Enki.

Malsumsis had told us all that their myths say that during the King Philip War members of the Shawmut visited an ancient site on Deer Island. Many of them were forced onto the island during the war. It became an island prison. On the hill high above the shore, the Shawmut found an ancient Phoenician stone with an inscription.

The inscription had the Spheres of the Qliphoth in amber and Punic script upon it. Other images inscribed onto it showed men turning into giant wolf-men after a human sacrifice. A group of Shawmut warriors were picked by lot to become the dog warriors.

Upon the next visit by the English to bring food to the island, the dog warriors attacked the small weak son of the wagon master. He would be sacrificed on the new moon two days later.

The sacrifice was brought to its conclusion and the warriors fell to their knees. A great sickness befell them and reality melted before their eyes. They heard colors and smelled textures dissolve around them.

Once on the other side they seen themselves covered in hair standing upright with the faces of the coyote. They had entered through the gate of Yog-Sothoth and the boy's blood made the silver key.

With their new strength they defeated the English and escaped the island and brought their clan to the woods of the Agawam. In their new home, guilt welled up within the dog warriors. They had sacrificed a boy protected by the gods and the son of the kind man who overextended his own crops to help feed their clan.

To atone for their sin, every time the wagon master travelled to Ipswich they would fill his wagon of maize, beans, honey, pelts, and gourds every time he entered a tavern for a meal. Since their transgression they have been repenting and discontinued any form of worship of Yog-Sothoth. In fact they have been in constant battle to keep his door closed to our dimension.

Malsumsis was informing the Masons that Yog-Sothoth's followers have been joining the Anti-Masonic Party and infiltrating the Mormons. That in New York state and Salem were other stones representing the 10 Spheres of the Qliphoth. Joseph Smith first mistook the stone he found in New York as testimony of a Jewish-Egyptian's tribes visit to the new world.

Prior to the King Phillip's War, the English had found the stone on Deer Island and sacrificed Mary Dyer to Yog-Sothoth. Later it was found again and called for Anne Hutchinsons' life. Then another black stone was found in Salem during the Witch Trials while the Black Man roamed free and we all know what happened there.

After the tragedy in Salem, the two local ones were purposely hidden and not just dropped upon the untimely death of its holder without notice. The Miskatonic University could only hold onto one of them since they can not leave a certain perimeter.

They are repulsed from one and another. To use them with the most potential they need to find their sweet spot, they oppose each other like two magnets of the same charge. When you push the limit of their possible proximity you may perform explosive spells. If you pull them apart to their extremes, an implosion. When you arrange spheres that are pulling away and those that are pushing in along the right channels that connect them is how you control the spells that manifest from them.

When they are equidistant from one another, they perform their own unavoidable destruction of the world. The Spheres of the Qliphoth were created by Shiva. When left to its own it causes dead ends, dry skin, balding, spent blooms, and the like daily.

It removes the dross so new life can be formed in its place. Unfortunately it empties the old clerk's desk so the young one can sit there, in time. The secret is not to speed up the process.

When you pull the spheres equidistant from each other to their furthest points from each other, you can stop time. When two dimensions move at different frequencies they can not interact. The same point within two dimensions can not line up.

The best way to describe frequencies is a simple wind siren. You have a simple flute with one hole and a housing that sits on top with a single hole spinning. Sound is only made when the two holes line up. The faster it spins the higher the frequency that the two holes line up and sound is produced. The slower and the less times the holes line up to produce a deeper lower sound. Faster higher. Now think of an infinite array of sirens spinning at various speeds all making various sounds of different pitches and timbres. You just try to get two of them to harmonize…

Traveling between dimensions is difficult! So you need two dimensions to stop spinning and line up their gates to each other. Imagine if one dimension is not moving, its like jumping off a moving train hitting a target in the river below the bridge. Possible, but difficult. If both dimensions have stopped, it is a lot easier. When the Spheres of the Qliphoth in two dimensions are pulled to their extremes, then armies from one world or the other may cross.

I only had held one of them in the Chapel.

When Joseph Smith was staying within Salem recuperating from injuries he spent a lot of time in the archives of the Miskatonic University. There he stumbled on several tomes of archaic lore of magical items that the Essex Natural Historical Society have found locally. Plus, they work in tandem with the East India Marine Society collecting magical items from around the world. Mostly from China. In his studies he stumbled on references to the Templar treasures I brought over and many other things including the amber and black Spheres of the Qliphoth. His studies also had him leave for New York state to find the dull white stone rumored to have been held by a Jewish-Egyptian tribe when they came to the new world. His visits since back to Salem looking for treasures are these magical items.

I fear he has fell to the influence of the Yog-Sothoth followers who are now working their way up through the nation's politics through the Anti-Masonic Party. I wonder if there is more to 'Black Dan's name'?

Malsumsis and his kin have sat in their sweat lodge for many nights recently meditating and traveling through dimensions keeping the remaining spheres from lining up by fighting many battles by force and diplomacy. Even though one of the stones is unmovable now deep in the earth, the rest could move around it. The skin walkers had found themselves fighting the agents of Yog-Sothoth of this dimension and the numerous others to prevent the dimensions from lining up. Those stories of high adventure are for another time when you can read a different 100 pages or so. I will just let you finish this chronicle of mine first.

After I got up from my Native friends William pulled me aside.

He had heard Maria Beckford and Joseph Knapp Sr. plead with Governor Lincoln to spare the two Knapp brothers. They had brought to his attention that there was proof that Stephen White had been poisoning his uncle for months that winter before he died which could explain the old man's poor health.

In time, I felt it was safe once more. The melee must of came to its natural completion by now within the Towne.

We found Louie in a heated one sided debate with an old blue blood crustacean who was showing the crust upon his upper lip. "Come on Louie, lets get going." I said.

Louie just pointed and moved his lips, he was so frustrated he could not speak as I tugged at his shoulder for the door. "I sure did tell him what I thought of him!" Louie said as he tried to stop his head spinning toward him.

"But, you said nothing at all," William said.

"Exactly, that is what I think of him. Nothing at all!"

Chapter 45:

Opium, Ghost, and Politicians. Oh my!

One night I went out for a stroll heading northeast up Derby Street. I had left Lilly's and was just passing the old Derby house when...a woman deep in her cups bumped into me, hard. I naturally checked my wallet and watch for the bump was an old pickpocket trick.

She looked up into my eyes with a frustration that has no exact intention or aim. She must of just left one of the many ale houses that dotted this neighborhood. She smelled like she was filled full with hard spirits. She looked down and met my eyes again with a different affect. "You seem to be sensitive," she said with a new found clarity.

I find myself to be caring enough to help those I find in need. "Sensitive," she repeated that word again and gave me a look that bored into my soul. Then I felt it before I noticed the temperature around me dropping.

"It's my sister. She is in the grip of stronger stuff. That poison that forces you to loose your's," she had said through her tears. "I have lost my life to it. I don't want to see her to loose her's as well."

Sensitive. I now understand. She was referring to my sensitivity to experience things just outside of our normal consensuses of reality. The things that most people's brains consider Somebody Else's Problem.

These are the things our brain doesn't want you to see and leaves for other people to deal with. Most people just keep passing the buck; then there are people, like me, the universe just thrusts it all upon. These SEPs always find me. I can see them coming and I try to shrink my presence, to hide in corners, or walk faster without making eye contact. It doesn't always work. For the SEPs there is a light above my head in neon blaring 'Eat at Joe's' with a flashing arrow.

Hard drink was called spirits because it was believed that when one became inebriated spirits could sneak in and take over your body. This SEP had jumped into the body of a woman who drank enough spirits to collapse the Stoned Elephant.

"Right now she is an alley dying; you must help me!" she said as she pulled me up Derby Street just past the Derby estate and up Palfrey Court. It was this narrow little road, almost just an alley. It was humorous that the poorest of souls find their way up this alley that resides next to what was once the richest property in the nation. Salem was filled with extreme juxtapositions and contradictions.

At the end of the court off an alley on the side of a rundown red clapboard colonial, which has fallen to be used as a house of ill repute, was her sister slumped over an old barrel that once carried cinnamon from Ceylon. A broken bottle of laudanum laid below her hand. Abandoned most likely to this barrel by the madam of the house.

I lifted her up and seen her breathes were shallow and far apart. The two of us carried her to the tea shop just below Turner Street. My friend Foster was in who carried the various parts of the cocoa plant in his storeroom.

I had him run to the basement and retrieve some cold water from the basement cistern. I began mashing some cocoa leaves, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, ginger, and Java beans in the mortar and added it to the hot Kettle he always kept on the stove. I opened her blouse when Foster came back and had him throw his bucket on her chest. She gasped for air and started breathing heavy again. After a few minutes we poured her a cup of the cocoa tea. Foster realized what I was up to and left the room. He came back with a few tinctures he had made with the cocoa leaves. We gave her a few vials and she began to catch her breathe again on her own.

After we got her steady Foster gave us a ride in his carriage back to Lilly's. Me and Foster helped her inside and a few of Lilly's girls then took her from us and carried her upstairs to find her a bed to rest in. Lilly came down in her night robe with a tallow smoking candle, "What happened Henry?"

With that the sister who I met on Derby Street almost collapsed, if Lilly didn't catch her. When Lilly righted her once more the woman looked up at her and me with her original glazed over eyes, "Get — your hands — of me!"

Then she focused on me, "You're cute! How about a toss?" I blushed and Lilly began to take her up to another room upstairs to sleep it off. If we didn't have a vampire epidemic, I believe Lilly would of just loved to have shoved her out her door. It took three of Lilly's girls and herself to get her upstairs cursing at them the whole way. The addict's sister once again rested easily on the other side.

I thanked Foster. He offered me a ride home, but I decided to continue my stroll.

I should of taken him up on his offer. Once you have focused on the other side, your aura changes alerting other spirits that you can see them. Derby Street became really crowded with the dead who started following me as I passed them.

The ale houses and brothels have claimed many lives in this neighborhood. The ghosts on this street had become even more cumbersome after all the vampire attacks of late. I avoided making eye contact and kept walking. Just passing them drained your energy.

As I crossed onto English Street I had left them behind on Derby Street. In life this was the perimeter of the ladies of the nights territory. They proffered in the Federal districts of town and avoided the Jeffersonian areas. The street walkers and ladies of the brothels were of two different classes.

Walking home up English Street I was able once more to catch my breath.

At home I found Caroline in the parlor reading an early release of Hawthorne's first book Seven Tales of my Native Land. Before her was a cup of tea still steaming on the side table to her chair. "Oh hello, I was just getting caught up on Hawthorne's manuscript here. The boy has a macabre mind that I just find tantalizing..."

"Did he come by this evening?"

"Boy did he. He just came back from upstate New York around Niagara. His tales from his trip were far more exciting!" she said spinning in her seat and sitting forward pointing the bound manuscript at me. "He went up there on a trip with Henry Longfellow and Franklin Pierce, two friends of his from college.

They ventured into a wood and found a river. There was a craft left at the edge and they decided to appropriate it. They rowed up the Niagara River until they came to an island covered in an ancient oak forest. Grand Island, or Oak Island as some called it, they found out its name later when they ventured back to Buffalo.

Once upon the island they walked into the interior. It was beautiful with tall oaks that eclipsed the sun. Shadows danced as they weaved in and out the deer trails. The occasional sticker bush crossed their path catching their clothes. There was the strong smell of soil after the rain upon the air. Chipmunks ran before them and a hawk flew above.

They came upon the end of the trail. It was lit up by a great field in front of it. Within the clearing was a large log cabin. Men were gathered around the building with arms crossing their chests. Miners came from the back and headed into the woods to their left. The three friends decided to follow the miners.

Quietly they skulked a distance behind them. Eventually after rounding a barren cliff-face, following a bridge over a stream, and following a dark wood they came upon a vast chasm with steam rising from it. The smell of sulfur hit the three friends. The miners who never sensed their presence descended into the void. Once they were far enough within, the three friends crested the edge and peered below.

Below they seen a large stone vibrating brown. It was surrounded by strange men in tertiary robes. Chanting an old incantation. An incantation mentioned in the Necronomicon and a spell Longfellow recognized from the original vernacolo fiorentino of Dante's Divine Comedy from the third ring of Hell. The miners were toiling to unearth the monstrous stone.

An owl soared down upon them with a loud squawk. The three friends ran from the edge back into the dark forest. Once they returned to the cabin they hid behind the oaks, peering into the clearing looking for an opportunity to dash upon the original trail that began their journey.

Near the house they recognized three familiar faces to the political novices of New England: Millard Fillmore, Joseph Smith, and William Morgan. The man that many believed was kidnapped and murdered was alive. His murder had spurred the creation of the Anti-Masonic Party.

Was Smith behind the political party too. It seemed the other two acquiesced to his opinion. Fillmore tried arguing a point with him, but became morose when he stepped down his opinion as Smith just spoke over him. Then exiting the building removing a druid's hood was Webster."

Looking back at this story from many years into the future, it was amazing how many presidential candidates were in that woods that day. One that will die on the campaign trail. One that will become president after the murder of a president. One that will die never becoming president. Then the last that would be elected. Caroline's relating Hawthorne's tale was eerie for that fact. Then she continued.

"The three friends thought they had their chance, but they were seen as they entered their trail. Learning from the sons of the Micmacs, during the days they skipped classes at Bowdoin, they rounded the next curve and dove into the brush. They laid flat on the ground until they heard them all pass. They waited for a minute or two. Then they followed the pursuers from the rear.

Once they seen the men get to the river in the distance, they hid in the brush again till they passed them heading back to the log cabin. When the sounds of their footsteps and cursing sank into

the distance they made their way to the river and rowed back down." Caroline was leaning in even closer to her spread knees with a wicked smile on her face when she finished Hawthorne's tale. Then she leaned back and brought her knees close to her chest and rolled around like a cat getting comfortable in her chair and waited for my response.

"Smith staged the murder of Morgan?"

"Yep!"

"Oak Island, how strange." I said remembering the Templar tales we had heard of the continent that La Merica had pointed toward. The Vinland maps mentioned upon the northern border of the land were two islands in a harbor with two rivers leading into the interior. Then within Erikson's narratives he mentions a horrible island filled with giant oaks and a dangerous stone. An island they found the natives had avoided for generations. Lief had sent a few onto the island to investigate. They came back in torn clothes.

Later that night upon the drakar, the crew was woken by large bassy guttural growls. When they rose from their slumber they had seen three bears roaming the prow. They all jumped ship.

Good for them the ship was just off the coast and floated to the shore and the bears just walked away. Erikson regained the ship and left his three crewmen behind and sailed with the rest.

When we found those two islands, I named it Oak Island. Believing the two islands he mentioned were one in the same. Two islands in the harbor next to the two rivers were a different reference from Erikson's Oak Island.

Also I got the original two islands by the two rivers wrong too. They ended up being the Big and Little Misery Islands with the North and South River leading into the interior of Salem, MA. Not the ones in Nova Scotia.

"Also Hawthorne said he has a few more stories being published in Godrich's Token magazine," Caroline continued sipping her tea.

"Hopefully he will be paid more than a mere token for his labors." I said as I stretched out on the couch with my arms behind my head.

Chapter 46:

To Hatch a Plan.

I just had entered the House of the Rising Sun when Bjorn pulled Hatch to me by his ear. Bjorn was quite tall and Hatch was barely walking on his toes. "What would you have me do with h'm. I found h'm skulking around Perkins warehouse where those blood suckers sleep. I figured he was up to no good, so I brought him your way."

Now Hatch was tricky and quite quick, but Bjorn had the speed of the wolf to compliment his great size. Once I had seen him ingest some mushrooms and chase—and catch rabbits in his underwear. I was afraid of what he was going to do with them when he caught them. He just put them in a large pen.

When he had enough, I thought he was going to tie their ears together, but he actually made a few nests and placed some pisanki in them. Derby Street was getting some folk from Lithuania who picked up the Polish egg painting tradition and Bjorn...in truth I don't know where he got them or what he was really up to. He just ran away from the bunnies saying 'time to free the bears, time to free the bears!'

Today, Bjorn caught a toady and I was going to let Hatch sit on an egg until it hatched. "Hello Long or should I call you Renfield? That would describe your employment once more, Renfield."

"Oh Henry, I always liked your original name Manny. Emmanuel was always a bit wordy. We have gone a long way from being camel jockeys, the two of us, with figs on our breath and grit between our teeth." with that Hatch slipped out of Bjorn's grasp and picked up a spoon and held it in one fist. "What does this remind you of Henry?" With that Hatch pretended to hit the spoon as if it was a nail with his other hand. It sunk through his fist and disappeared around the corner of the bar as he pretended to make the sounds of hammering. "It is the music of nine inch nails! One for the feet. Two for the forearms. Three for the show and what a show it was. It was just piercing! You remember my old friend? It was a hammering old time"

"I see you have had a half a dozen spikes in your arm. Is that the bite of the dragon or the dracul? Are you still the gimp to the undead? Be careful, for you might end up on a spear like the one you punctured me with. Sliding down slowly."

"You make such fine threats." Hatch had said slowly with venom as his eyes bore holes through my head as he looked down over his nose. His best wolf sneer.

"Not my threat, but the threats of your regular company." I responded to his look.

Hatch just looked at the wall and began to drift his attention to it. Then he was amazed at the quality of his shoes. He began to smile.

Bjorn lifted him by both ears this time, "You want me to rip these off for him?" Hatch's concern switched to his ears quickly as he stood barely on the tips of his shoes.

"No. I have a better idea," I cracked a devious smile as I recalled a fond memory. "You remember Malta, May 1565?"

"You wouldn't!"

"I would."

"You couldn't!"

"I definitely can!"

It was May 1565 within the Hospitallers stronghold on Malta. They had found a fine port in Birgu that they had sent many ships from to harass the Turk's shipping routes. Sultan Suleyman the Magnificent was looking to finish the battle he had started in Rhodes where he defeated this military order. After putting all the valiant defenders of St. Elmo, who held him off for a month, to the sword he was ready to besiege Birgu.

A small elite group of monks slipped on board Suleyman's Çektiri, a large 4 decked ship powered by oars that looked like a giant and angry dolphin with a curled tail sitting high out of the water. The men boarded and captured his son Selim II. Hatch was his vizier.

Little did we know that we would be doing Suleyman a favor, in his eyes, by killing his remaining son. All the others had been extinguished years earlier after failed revolts against their father. Selim was the only one that the father never took serious. The father actually feared Hatch far more. There would be no love loss in Hatch's death either.

Hatch was quite astute, even then. If we could sit on him long enough he would hatch. We needed to know the enemies strength, positions, and numbers along with the current politics. Hatch was not talking and Selim was useless.

So we separated the two of them. We would never gain anything useful from Selim so the Hospitallers showed him their full hospitality. Hatch...we put him in an old, moldy, and dark food cellar filled with only sourdough and blue cheese. We left him in there for a few weeks, only providing fresh water. He hates sourdough and blue cheese.

I never found out if he hated the smell of the cheese more than he hated the taste.

Soon after we released him, we had forced the Turks to leave the island.

"The blue cheese..."

"You wouldn't!" fear gripped Hatch and he broke free from Bjorn's grips and crashed into the corner, cowering. "Please, you wouldn't be so cruel!!!"

"Yes I would!" with that I had Bjorn carry Hatch to Lilly's root cellar which was emptied of everything besides plenty of sourdough and blue cheese.

After Bjorn locked its doors, Hatch lasted only 30 minutes before he broke. He hatched.

Chapter 47:

At Sea

Hatch informed us that The Grand Turk would be sailing on the morn with the Chinese General and his elite force leading the vampiric cannon fodder. The Grand Turk was a 100 ton 3 masted ship that carried 22 guns. It was one of the fastest ship of the Revolutionary War. For these many years since it has been owned by Perkins sailing for his China trade.

I had got hold of West and he began outfitting his Hercules for battle. Many of the Hibernians at one time or another had sailed the seas from Salem. Many fought on privateer ships from Salem or on ships sailing from the south to defeat the British during the War of 1812. Also many of Caroline's Boys sailed as cabin boys who were no stranger to manning the cannons.

It was going to be a hard go of it with West's ship only having ten cannons, but West was a very effective master. We were going to have to rely on speed and strategy. Also if we could throw the hooks over her gunwales, my reincarnated Viking crew would make short order of the vampires.

I also sent correspondences to General Glover's boys of the 14th Continental Regiment in Marblehead. Well, in fact the boys were getting pretty long in the tooth now after Glover's death. These were the men who rowed Washington across the Delaware.

We left Parker behind to rally up men to man the cannons of Fort Pickering, Hospital Point, and Fort Lee. In Marblehead they were to man Fort Sewall. Hopefully Parker will do better than he did during the last war.

He was in charge of the bombardment of the HMS Nautilus. It had run a ground on a sandbar in the mouth of the North River across from Collins Cove. It was chasing a Salem privateer, who also ran aground…

The privateer floated their cannon to shore and aimed them at the Nautilus. Also the Cannons of Hospital Point in Beverly and Fort Lee on Cannon Hill in Salem barred down on the British frigate. Under Parker, at least 20 cannons from Salem all missed the Nautilus until the tide rose, hours later, and she just sailed away.

We were sailing out of Salem Harbor on the outside of Stone Rock with all of her sails unfurled. West was at the wheel. The cannons were ready. The decks were sanded, shot was stacked, powder was brought up, matches smoldered in their tubs, boarding weapons were gathered on deck, gun ports were open, and tompions removed. We also had small arms ready on deck filled with silver bullets.

Finley, one of Caroline's Boys, up in the crow nest was the first to see The Grand Turk's colors. She was just rounding the outside of Satan Rock. She was staying out of range of the guns on Fort Sewall.

It was going to be hard to tact against the wind on the inside of Coney Island to face The Grand Turk on the inside of Eagles Island.

We reduced sail and beat the drum as we closed on the Grand Turk. A range tester was shot from The Grand Turk which ran short. A second one came close to our starboard. West turned hard to port against the wind.

We opened fire and shot off five cannons hitting their bowsprit and deck with two shots while the rest missed their mark. They continued on as we prepared to come about.

By the time we spun around they were half way in between Coney Island and Stone Rock. The broken bowsprit was beginning to slow them down and their foremast was leaning against the wind.

We began to gain on them hoping to broadside them. Their ship ran aground on the Great Aquavitae. A sand bar many smugglers hid their whiskey on to avoid customs, having small rowboats pick them up. We came up on them and both ships opened fire. Our five guns on our port and 11 on her starboard.

The Hibernians in the tops and shrouds opened fire with their rifles and knocked off 6 gunners before we were parallel to them. Shot flew from both ships and the smoke ruined visibility on both sides. We sailed on leaving them on the bar. Once we were past Fort Pickering we opened up on them. Their shots fell short.

We looked back over the bow and seen The Grand Turk had lost its foremast. Once she got off the bar she would still be able to sail in port.

In time we rounded back getting ready to broadside them again. The tide came up and they broke free. This set off our timing and they got their 11 shots off taking out our center mast and splintering our gunwale. She was closing in on Winter Island when Fort Pickering opened up once more. This time the fort hit three on the deck and took out their rear mast. She still staggered toward Philips' Wharf when we came up on her starboard. She had only 3 guns left on that side. We both opened fire and we landed five shots on her deck through the gunwale to her 2 that landed in our sails.

We threw out the grapples and the two ships were pulled close in on each other. We kept up our small arm fire as my once Vikings boarded her with axes in hand. I went over on the second wave.

Many Vampire heads flew as the Hibernians swung their deadly steal. In the center was the elite guard which I made my way toward with Kettell and Malsumsis in tow behind me. The first swung a butterfly sword high I parried with my sheath as I pointed my sword straight down blocking the blade in the other hand as I continued my momentum inside of him and slamming the top of my head into his sternum. He fell back and I sliced his Achilles tendon with a backward thrust as I parried another blow from the second adversary as I was on one knee. My leg stretched out and swung taking his feet out as Bjorn came up and took his head while he was down. He smiled and went on with a guttural growl.

Finally I broke through the fray and came upon the general. He stood tall with his sword far to his side looking like a long extension of his arm. I came in with my sword high to the right, ready to block his swing. He just stood there and starred me in the eyes. As I closed in he nodded and closed his eyes as I removed his head.

It must have been the only honorable way to the other side after Lin had cursed him for letting the poison of the dragon enter into their home. His burden was removed.

The rest fought on and on as more and more kept coming up on deck. Malsumsis was shape shifting and walking in and out of dimensions had taken out most of the elite guard who stood their motionless as he popped in and out of the ether. The Hibernians were lopping heads left and right off the vampires of the addicted class.

Soon the sun would be up finishing the rest.

Before leaving their ship we set fire to her sails and deck. We were able to scurry past when Fort Pickering opened up once more setting 10 balls into her hull. She sank right off Stephen White's wharf.

West's battered Hercules had sailed under her own power to his Derby Wharf. Caroline was there waiting for us with many girls from Lilly's ready with the triage.

Chapter 48:

Christmas Eve

Most of the neighborhood was probably walking under my feet. All the women walking with their husbands, carrying plates of food to family's and friends' homes, their husbands lugging the gifts. It had just started to snow and a slight wind had just picked up. None of the women wanted to let their meals, or themselves for that matter, get cold. So they were dragging their husbands through the tunnel this Yuletide night.

There were probably some nervous nods among the husbands as they recognized one and another from the various brothels that these tunnels connect to. Maybe a hurumpf and a good day, even though the sun had set. I wonder how many wives had the men pull the carts filled with gifts that normally pull smuggled goods. I bet the doglegs were even getting bottle necked as families pulled over and let others pass through.

It was a beautiful clear night with a full moon and the stars were providing a dandy of a show in all of their majesty. It was Jul. The birth of Christ was still about nine months off. I will celebrate then, but it was the winter solstice and I was looking in the sky for the 8 legged horse Sleipnir, one leg per reindeer. Odin would be astride him chasing the boar or hart through the sky with his dogs before him. I still remember the legends that my bestemor taught me in Orkney.

The gas lamps flickered and the smoke was swirling in the wind as the flakes fell and swirled. Inside the gazebo was the Jul Tree decorated with candles. Most of them had already blew out tonight. The lighting of Dearborn Street had ended right before the wind picked up. Hundreds of candles placed on either side of the road was the towns December tradition. I was taking the trail through the Common that terminated on Forrester Street. Upon the trail that bisected mine which led to Mall Street I met Kettell under the lamp and he joined me.

We turned right onto that strange leg of Washington Square East, that really has no name, and we crossed Essex and chose to venture down Orange Street past the Knapp house. I gave a small blessing this season for the father and his family as I walked around the corner.

We both were quiet and reverent; just sucking in the warmth of the season that pushed back the chill. Kettell pulled out a warm metheglin and we passed it back and forth. As we passed the Crowninshield house I saw a small raccoon scurry by and under the Custom House fence.

I wonder if the tide will be out tonight at midnight? It would be a good night to take Caroline to the Coondocks. Maybe we can leave a small gift for them. Maybe a little tartar sauce for their clams…

We crossed Derby and took a small walk out onto Derby Wharf, just enough to see the snow land on the open sea. The warehouses were all frosted by now and the wind picked up. We got our eyeful and continued back and onto Derby heading for home.

We passed under the windows of the ship chandleries, taverns, and brothels. Many a staggering sailor stumbled out into the snow with his Christmas gift held tight to his body under his chin ready for the next draught. We made it past the seamen bethel in front of the old Turner Estate and it just tolled the hour. In the distance we seen many of a sailor walking toward their bed tonight on Phillip's Wharf. Some with a courtesan who they would share a gift or two with this Christmas morn.

Then we passed India Wharf and turned up English. The chandlery was lit up, magnificent. Most of the houses were rebuilt and the smell was gone. A few snowmen dotted the side yards. Most had makeshift firemen hats on them giving homage to the Hibernians who saved this neighborhood.

Kettell held the door for me as we made our way in. Caroline just dropped the Glög bowl on top of the warmer on the banquet table. "Kettell! Henry! Glad you could make it Kettell!" she leaned in and kissed my cheek. "How was your walk dear. The lights? Were they amazing?" Caroline had joined me, but left early to get ready for tonight. She had walked through the tunnel to get back.

Right behind us walked in Malsumsis and Achak with the family. I pointed the kids to the tree where there were gifts wrapped for them. Achak's wife handed Caroline a traditional dish of turkey and the two left for the kitchen and some small gossip. We all settled in around the fire on the raised hearth and the couches and chairs. Some of the kids whizzed by playing with their new bows and arrows with dried pine tar tips. The youngest stopped and tugged on my shirt. I reached into my pockets and produced some gibraltars and I received a small delicate smile in exchange that was gone in a blink of an eye as she rejoined the wild hunt through the house this night.

Parker burst in with a gust of wind which drifted a pile of snow that shrouded him and fell to his feet as he shut the door. "Henry! They are rushing it tonight!" Parker coughed and cleared his noise with a large sniffle. He was out of breath from the cold and it seamed that he had ran here."They are hanging him tonight!"

"How? I thought I still had till the New Year. I have nothing prepared! We can't have this tonight of all nights!"

Mumford was just coming around the corner by the stairs. "How many of the men in the prison do you have on your side?" I asked.

"Oh Henry, there must be 50 and at least 10 of the 20 guards on tonight," he answered holding his hands to his side with one hand to his cheek looking up while thinking. "Why do you ask?"

"We need to prevent Joseph from hanging tonight!"

"Why he ain't to dance the jig till the New Year."

"Parker has informed us that it has moved up."

"On the Lord's day and all. There just ain't no respect in this world no mo' for a po' white boy!"

"Can you venture with us?"

"Anything for you Henry!"

Mumford, Kettell, Achak, Malsumsis, and a bunch of Caroline's Boys, we pulled away from sneaking some Glög, joined us through the hole in the floor of the basement into the tunnel leading to the prison.

It was a tight fit trying to squeeze past carts of motley and bows, being careful not to upturn the food being carried, waiting our turn to exit the doglegs, and tripping and ripping wrapping paper. We were having a slow go of it and we were not sure if we were going to make it in time. So we got out of the tunnel in front of Senator Silsbee's house on the Common and ran across and up Brown Street. We headed down Howard Street and cut across the cemetery. Near Bridge Street, we entered the crypt where bodies were left to freeze till spring. On the way by we even seen the body of the old Captain who was waiting for the thaw to be buried. The back of this mound was another tunnel that led to the prison.

We passed the shackles and entered by the wood burning boiler. Mumford led the way and Caroline's Boys ran ahead of us all to rally who they can. Mumford knew the first guard. He led us in. On the second floor in the kitchen was a hook placed in the ceiling. Below it was the trapdoor. The guard said that White, who was on the governor's prison commission had just taken Joseph into the kitchen.

When we got there Joseph was even more in a stupor. Clueless that his life was about to end. He could barely walk or keep the saliva in his mouth. The noose was already hanging.

"Stephen! Let him loose!" I said as I readied my cane. Mumford had walked off with the guard.

"You're too late. You might of stopped me from freeing The Black Man, Nyarlathotep. The one the Mormons call Moroni. Though tonight when the veils are the thinnest I will call forth the gatekeeper Yog-Sothoth with the silver key, that knows

Nyarlathotep's three gates. The spheres will align and he will call on the Ancient Ones to return to rain down toads and locusts upon the earth."

"Well if it is only bull frogs and grasshoppers, I guess that is fine..."

"Your insolence is not amusing. I will have a fine time watching Azathoth make his trophy bag from your flayed flesh and collect Caroline's head as his first prize to be stowed in it."

"Yeah! What is with the mumbo jumbo and that silly bathrobe?"

"It's not a bathrobe!"

"Smoking Jacket?"

"No it is not a smoking jacket; now I must continue the third sacrifice to the three fold death," with that he pierced Joseph's side, sliced the back of his leg, and Joseph's weight began to pull his neck in the noose which was tightening. His knees barely touched the ground.

Obviously Joseph had been poisoned, stabbed by iron, and was having the air forced from his lungs. The three fold death by water, air, and earth.

"It was you who had killed Richard and had me drugged!"

"Yes Henry. He was the second sacrifice. Judge Parker was supposed to be the second, but Webster didn't have the stomach for anything other than poisoning. My uncle was the first on Easter. Reversing the light and celebrating the darkest day of the year tonight! He was planning his revenge on his business partners through their sons' deaths. He thought he was hiring Palmer to commit a mercy killing and to deliver a swift hard stroke to the head with his led pipe," he stopped and gave a large grin with a laugh of mirth and joy and looked me back in the eye and continued with a chilling screech of a tone, "but that was not to be the way. I had him choked with his bed cloths till he lost consciousness. Awoken him, and repeated it several times! He was so surprised to see himself still alive each time. Palmer who then took pity on him struck with the pipe.

He was convinced he was dying that winter. I had been poisoning him for 3 months filling his ear in that drug laden stupor full of hatred for Crowninshield and Knapp. I kept talking about his beloved ship the Revenge, his baby that his best friend Knapp had lost to a PIRATE who then had the gall to have his own REAL child that year! Then to rub it in to name the child Joseph! Imagine the twist of fate when Knapp grew up to marry my cousin who was the last chance for my uncle to bear him his heir.

He married that slut the same year my wife died!!!!"

"What did the Crowninshields do to you?"

"Not me, but they insulted my uncle after they lost three ships together in Naples! Your friend West saved himself by saving the Bonaparte! Richard had publicly declared that the Virginians were justified in closing our shipping to the world and we had no right to sail anywhere while the Napoleonic Wars still raged. He publicly insulted my uncle in my tavern! Their children were to die for their fathers' insults."

"So you poisoned your uncle's ear against his partners who had heirs when he did not. It was a shame your brother Joseph died before him."

"No shame. He never knew he was being poisoned from our laboratory he loved so well...I had all the doctors confused or paid off not to help him before he succumbed to my quiet hand. That was when the shadow of the Black Man had come for me." he paused and cut his hands and cupped the blood as he looked down into it and bent his knees and came up with a rush. "Abel's blood gathered by Cain is the most powerful sacrifice to wake the Ancient Ones."

"Your own brother!"

"Yes that drunk gadfly! He was to be the heir! Joseph Jr. & Stephen White Co. Always top billing. He supported the war and the Jacobites! After Baring Brothers had paid for his fine manor he had held all of his grand parties in! They had a contract out on his head. He was to be the chair of the Boston Branch of the Second Bank of United States. His deceit had cost me my seat in the bank! I had to put Webster on the board and Story in

Philadelphia to control it through them. So at the end of the war and right before President Monroe's tour to us traitors in 1816, they wanted him dead.

I had used the same poison on him that I would later use on his loving uncle. On his last night I could not wait any longer, I had poured the rest of the poison into a bottle of his favorite vintage and just watched him beg with that strange look showing he never knew the hatred I held for him!

Then 11 years later. The year we all received our mansions from Barings, 1811. My wife dies! 1827, that is when I signed The Black Man's book. I swore I was to cross him over to our side. Nyarlathotep would become flesh and leave his black shadow behind. I signed his book in the blood of Joseph Knapp's mother. Then I waited."

"Waited for what? Sanity? I hate to tell you, but you still need to wait a very long time for that one to come back..."

"Waited for the three fold year for the three fold death reversing the creative power of Christ. Christ hung on a tree for 3 hours, 3 hours of darkness, 3 women at the cross, 3 women took him from his tomb on the 3rd day. He died from strangulation on the cross as he could not remove the fluid building in his lungs as Long's spear pierced him. Earth of the spear, the crucifixion strangled the air out of him, as he choked on the water of his own body."

"You are a sick baby seal."

"I know. I did warn Joseph that his life was to end soon for his mere existence dishonoring my uncle. For I had his carriage robbed on April 27th. It was the 27th year that he stole my cousin from my uncle and married her as my wife was dying!!! The womb that brought this vile creature into the world had to be cut out. I was plagued by my wife's death. $2,700 reward. 27 Men on the Committee of Vigilance. Judge Parker's death on July 27th. I had been poisoning my uncle for 3 months. He died 3 years after my death and Judge Parker had died 3 months after he did on July 27th.

"Three fold. Two plus seven is nine. Three squared is nine."

"You are getting it Henry. Three are the gates to Yog-Sothoth and Nine are the dimensions he controls. Yog-Sothoth is the silver key and the gate which will free the Ancient Ones without Nyarlathotep"

"Boy you hated your uncle! I read the letter. Palmer struck him 10 times with the dirk and you had to give him a few more with your blade."

"I was nothing when my brother was alive in his eyes and I was also nothing but a poor reminder of him when he died. Yes I stabbed his corpse three times! I made him think his death was for his revenge and not my own on him! The tell-tale heart will give you out in the end and I had told the truth, to his heart, when I pierced it with my blade! Family..."

Then Stephen continued on to put Joseph's head in the noose. Stephen was wearing some scarlet robe with symbols from Enochian magic. He threw up his hood and a series of guards came in. He just ignored us as the guards began to attack.

The first came at me with his club and I sidestepped his attack grabbing his right arm with my right near his wrist and twisted as my left came down hard on his elbow with my cane. Disconnected. Standing sideways to the next I sunk into a low horse stance and threw a high block with my cane as I pivoted on my left foot and delivered a blow to his sternum with an open right hand. Now Stephen, chanting away, swinging a censor of acrid resins. He had lit a pentacle of candles around the trapdoor that Joseph stood on top. More guards rushed in but the brothers got them.

I slid hard into Stephen sending him into the wall after knocking over some of his candles and the censor spilled out onto the floor. The smell was sickening. I freed Joseph from his noose and pushed him toward Kettell who took him away. Stephen came back with his sword swinging for my neck. I ducked and came in hitting under his sword wrist with my cane and lifting it inside with the point in the air pushing his arm to his outside. He spun and I rabbit punched his ear with my right and then pushed my cane into the back of his knees. As he went down I struck the back of his head and he lolled to his left. He fell on one of his candles and I had to put it out.

Mumford had returned with Brown, the jail keep. Also Caroline's Boys had returned with the guards they knew and the ones in the pay of Mumford to restrain those who were on the Committee of Vigilance and on Stephen's payroll.

Caroline's Boys followed Brown as he put Joseph back to his cell.

Chapter 49:

Christmas Day

After me and Caroline sat at midnight under a light flurry lit by a single gas lamp we watched the raccoons at the Coondocks scurry away with the tartar sauce down the seawall to the beach filled with clams, we retired and went to bed.

In the morning I gave her first gift in bed. It was an elaborate printed invitation to a Christmas celebration at the Essex Hotel. I had rented out the old Bill Gray mansion for her boys. All decorated, a fine banquet, and scores of presents for all. Everyone was surprised by it. Caroline got up and opened our window, much like Scrooge after his visitations, and called down to John Tooker who was one of hers, "John, tell them all! Party at the Essex Hotel!"

John ran away with a smile. Then Caroline came back to bed to grab my hand and lead me out into the parlor.

She sat me down in my favorite chair before the tree and went to stoke the fire back up. I just sat there and watched the embers rise and dance away carrying me to distant memories. She broke my trance when she sat in my lap and handed me a gift. Upon removing its outer garments, I found Ticker inside. She had convinced the old professor to let me keep it.

In fact she had found out that Ticker grew restless within the Miskatonic University after I gave it back; chiming on the quarter hours knocking books off the shelf and denting the plaster around it. The Professor guessed he needed to do something quick about it. So he had bumped into Caroline at the Farmers' Market on the Common and told her about Ticker's strange behaviors. She went that day to retrieve him and hid it in our house.

Now that explains the weird strange calming rhythm I had been feeling in the house. The time stopping pocket watch was happy in its new home.

Then I handed her my gift. Once scattering the paper everywhere she pulled out a luxuriant set of combs for her beautiful blonde hair, "O' Henry, I love them!"

Then she walked away and returned with a large silk cloth sack filled with tiny gifts. She knew I just loved opening gifts, no matter how small. I opened up 25 individually wrapped gibraltars, 10 wax candles, a new ostrich wallet, a monkey's fist, a little ship in a bottle, a random skeleton key, an old Irish broken teapot she found in the surf, a couple of Dixon's pencils, some drawing paper, a tin of fatiman, a pickle with a bow on it, a lump of coal, a nisse and a troll she whittled, another old bottle she had found in the surf filled with colorful sand, and some oils she wanted me to share with her body later tonight.

After a breakfast of Norwegian pancakes with fresh blueberries from the NJ Pines and whipped cream we got dressed and departed for the Essex Hotel.

We had Louie pick us up. "Merry Christmas! You wouldn't believe what happened to me last night," Louie was beginning one of his yarns. "I was woken to the sounds of hoofs on my roof. It was all a clatter with me in my night kerchief I went to the window, filled with excitement!" Louie pauses and shakes his head looking down before he looks us in the eye, "It was only O'Malley escaping from his window onto my roof with his wife throwing empty whiskey jugs at him."

Louie dropped us off at the Essex Hotel on Essex Street… He went to park the carriage in the rear and was to join us inside.

As we went onto the covered porch and into the main entrance Caroline's Boys threw the doors open and led us to our seats. Many of them were running about and already dug into the many presents the Hibernians and myself had gathered for them. We even were able to get some things for their parents who needed a little extra for the coming year.

The house was opened up on the first floor to one great hall. On the four corners were grand hearths with mighty blazes. Sixty inch round tables dotted the interior with fine white linen cloths. Each table had a center piece of birch and oak logs wrapped in ribbon and holly with a candle protruding. I was hoping one of Caroline's Boys wouldn't knock one over and set the house up.

The banquet tables were at the back quarter filled with geese, a ham, a turkey, potatoes, squash, cranberries, and a salad. Then there was the fatiman, sadkaker cookies filled with berries and whipped cream, and Krumkake. Some of Lilly's girls were from Norway and knew how to make these traditional cookies from their mothers. The tables had a thicker white cloth with sprigs of ivy and pine decorating the tops around the platters of food. To provide some height were wax candles set toward the back. McMan out did himself for me.

There was a grand tree in the center where all the gifts were stacked. Now only a pile of liter remained around it a foot or two high. Many oval mirrors were on the wall that bounced light around the room and gave an illusion that the room was larger than it already was. Above were rooms for the travelers to Salem. Lafayette had stayed here when he came back to town to tour our new nation after the war.

We bumped into Parker and he had already been indulging in the Christmas punch. His wife Abigail, was nagging him and pulling him to his seat as he was eyeing one of Lilly's girls who were bringing extra cookies to the banquet.

Kettell was already at our table when we got there and was enjoying a few slices of goose and cranberries. "Merry Christmas you two!"

Caroline's Boys placed a plate in front of us filled with all the trimmings. They poured Caroline a nice claret and placed in front of me a tall glass of chocolate milk.

Some of the Hibernians brought out the fiddle, pipes, and bodhrán. Later I joined them on my flute and one of them brought out the hardanger fiddle. An earlier version of this fiddle the Vikings brought to Scotland and it spread throughout the land and into Ireland with a few changes.

Mumford came out and started up a dance as the crowd began to clap around him. After a few measures Remond came up and tried to out do Mumford with a few steps. Mumford laughed and clapped him on the back and they began a dance together and the fiddles picked up the pace. It was amazing how these two on the opposite sides of the African political swing had come together in the last year. I do believe Remond even got to know a few of Mumford's girls... He would never tell his sister Sarah that though.

Louie, for his Christmas wish, actually got to dance with Nathaniel's daughter Sarah and the Pooka was nowhere in sight. Then again he usually is invisible when he is around.

After the festivities settled down we had Louie drive us to Ipswich to visit Achak. While Louie drove the sleigh throw the forests of hazel, maple, oak, and birch we seen Malsumsis running in between the trees first as a wolf and appear in front of the next tree as a man running at an amazing speed. As he passed he turned his head and winked and off like a blur he went. Behind him followed Khidr, the Green Man. Off of Mill Road we took the trail after the Muddy Run till we almost made it to the Egypt River where Achak settlement was.

His kids greeted us and his youngest daughter stood looking at me, wrapped under the blanket with Caroline, with her hand out. I fought under the blanket to get a gibraltar or two out for her. She took a few of my Christmas presents and scampered away skipping.

We went in to find Malsumsis already at the table. Julie just kept plying us with more food. We both were going to burst. Louie came in and sat with Charlie-Talks-A-Lot. I am not sure which one had the grandest story or if either one heard each other.

Outside under the grand oak I had seen Harvey the Pooka sharing some mirth and glee over a warm horn of glög with Khidr. The nissen went to Louie's horses and brought them some apples and carrots.

After we fed some of our meal to Achak's fine dogs, when Julie was not looking, we made our way to sit on the stumps, carved with traditional designs, in front of the stone hearth. The rest already gathered around on their couches. On the trivet next to us was a small cauldron emitting a sweat smell of herbs simmering which provided a nice humidity about the place.

Malsumsis stood in front of the flames and began telling tales from before I even came to these shores. Stories filled with little forest helpers, brave boys on adventures in magical forests, how corn came to help the tribe, and he saved the yearly ghost story for last.

His tale went that a young boy had walked out on a clear morning to wander off to his mother's brother's home. Earlier his uncle's dog had awoken him. The boy thought how strange this was since the dog went nowhere without his uncle. At this time Malsumsis took the shape of a cute puppy. Achak's daughter got up and petted her uncle.

So he decided to take a voyage with his uncle's dog to see if he was alright. He set off before his parents awoke.

Just as the Boy began his trip he had seen a white buck running through the trees. He began his chase with the dog and followed the deer into a white stand of birch. As he broke the tree line of this stand he found himself within a circular clearing. Upon looking at his feet he seen some mushrooms. Which was strange since mushrooms tend not to grow in the winter. The dog didn't cross over the mushrooms. He began to feel worried as he followed the growth of the mushrooms out and realized they came back upon themselves.

He had stumbled into a Pukwudgie ring. At that moment began a blizzard. The Boy fought to get warm for he only wore his breechcloth that day and light buckskin shirt for the warm weeks of January have came. As the snow began the dog started to bark.

Through the swirls he seen a man break into the birch stand. As he approached the ring of mushrooms he seemed to grow through the storm and as the Boy removed his hands from his eyes to wipe away the snow the man seemed to have shrunk. At times he looked like a giant skunk and after another wipe of the snow, a great hare.

When the man got close enough he was the boy's height and had all the outward appearances of being a man, but had two long ears. The Boy looked back for the dog for protection, but he seen him run under the sun breaking through the trees back to his parents' house. At this point of the story Malsumsis pulled on his ears and they stretched to the size of a rabbit's and all the kids laughed.

The boy was now being approached by the trickster Tcakabesh. Tcakabesh had offered him a quest for he knew that his uncle was sick and needed the beechnut that fell from his sacred tree to be healed. To receive this boon Tcakabesh wanted the Boy to get a skin of the two youngest and fairest Lumpeguins. For the Trickster had a greedy appetite that called for two women to appease. The Boy agreed and the Trickster told him to journey up the Egypt River till he came to the Bull Brook and to continue west. There he would come to a pond that they swam in.

So he followed the Egypt River, which was not called that then, but its original name has been lost. The sun was high and bright in the sky once again. The snow now dripped down his body. When it turned into the Bull Brook he headed west.

After a mile he came between two rocks at the bottom of two great slopes. The slopes were too shear to climb and they forced him to go between them through the river. He feared doing this since he never learned to swim, but as he entered the water and began to dive forward, to dog paddle if he could, he looked down and seen the river bottom. This place in the river was quite shallow. So he walked in the river between the two rocks. The long rocks began to move and looked like they were going to squish him.

The current picked up preventing him from walking backward and away from the rocks as they were closing in on him. He had stumbled and took some water in as his knee kept hitting the bottom of the river. He had no problem keeping his head now above, but the current didn't seem quick enough to pull him through to the other side of the rocks that were going to hit him at any moment.

Then appeared two fisher cats that swam up and began to tug on his hair pulling him forward. His fear of the fisher cats taught him to swim quick enough to distance himself from them as he pulled forth just in time to avoid being killed by the rocks that slammed behind him with a great bang.

The fisher cats had made it through as well and began swimming around him. The first had asked him what he was doing on this path. He told him about his uncle and his quest for the skin so he could get the beechnut that could heal.

At this the fisher cats became angry. For the Lumpeguins were their brides which they kidnapped fair and square. They told him he would never find their skins for they had hid them where the North Wind could not even find them. With this they swam away to protect their property.

The Boy continued to drift on letting the current bring him where the spirit was leading him to.

After a great bend in the river the current seemed to slow as it reached a great pool. The Boy made it to the edge where he could stand again and walked to the shore where it was shallow enough to sit in the water and collect his thoughts. As he sat there he seen the waters get disturbed in the middle and spiral up and take the shape of the departed spirit of his grandmother, his uncle's mother.

She was worried for her son and felt it too soon for her to be reunited with him. She told him that 3 Lumpeguins lived in the pool and that 2 of their sisters had been captured by the fisher cats who stole their skins. He had to be careful of the women for they will try to play with his emotions.

First they will have him fear them, then feel the greatest of joy as they called him on to rest his head on their bosoms, and as he swims out feeling the greatest ardor they would drown him in sorrow.

To protect him she gave him a granite rock. She told him to pull his heart out and wrap it in his breechcloth and leave it on the shore and replace it with this rock.

The Boy was amazed by the strange command his grandmother gave him. He was sure that this would kill him. His grandmother told him she will stay on the shore and guard his heart. For when you come from a loving family, you all have the same heart. So he did so and placed it in his breechcloth and left it on the shore. He watched the breechcloth as it began to flatten out as his heart vanished and it appeared within his grandmother's chest. She then became a young woman of flesh and blood once more. He placed the stone where his heart was and she then told him it was time.

There before him swam three beautiful naked women. At this point in the story Malsumsis shifted into a woman who just got caught, naked, behind a towel and gave a shriek which the kids laughed at again.

The women swam about ignoring the Boy. The Boy just sat in the water by the shore unmoved. After awhile the women began bobbing up and out of the water revealing more of themselves trying to arouse his interest. The Boy just yawned. The women pleaded to him and the Boy slowly waded to them.

In the center of the pool was a great rock. The women swam with the Boy to the rock. When they were fully out of the water, it was then the Boy noticed that below the waist on the three women were only one appendage that terminated into a fish tale. They began swooning over him. The Boy was unmoved. He began to watch a fish swim by. The women began to sing the sweetest love song while their hands ran all over him. The Boy just pushed one of their hands away so he could continue watching the fish. No matter how much they tried, his heart was made out of stone.

He then asked, "How am I to love a woman who does not have legs? You are no better than the fish that swim past this rock." It was then that all three women slipped out of their skins and had two legs each.

At that point, the Boy grabbed the skins and jumped into the water. The fish he was watching turned into a dolphin and pulled him to shore quicker than the Lumpeguins could swim. In fact since he gave his grandmother his heart and she was flesh and blood she was able to shape shift once more. He knew right away when the fish winked at him who she was.

They got to the shore and she took the shape of his grandmother again. The Lumpeguins now took on their true countenance resembling something more hideous than a harpy. Scowling and hissing curses at him with long nails raking the air. It was then that the grandmother turned into a bear and swatted the closest's head off. The others cowered in fear and retreated now begging for their skin.

The grandmother told the Boy that they knew where the two younger sisters' skins were. The older sisters were jealous of the two younger one's beauty and had no love for them. So they had helped the fisher cats to marry them away.

They told the Boy and his grandmother that the skins were in a hollow in the tree with the horns at the shore of the next bend. Then the Boy returned their skins.

The Boy and his grandmother walked on till they came to the tree. Then they heard in the tree next to it a cry similar to a baby. As they got closer the crying became more frantic and desperate. The Boy with the stone heart ignored the wailing. The baby sounded like it was dying, but the Boy just ignored it even more. For his heart was made of stone.

The Boy went to the horned tree and went to bend low to look in the hollow when the second fisher cat jumped at him. The Boy jumped and the fisher cat missed. As the Boy backed up to the other tree, which he thought held a baby, the first fisher cat jumped at him from above. For he was really the baby; as we all know fisher cats can sound like babies crying. Previously, he tried to trap him and kill him as he went to save the baby, but the Boy's heart was made of stone.

His grandmother turned back into the bear and dispatched the first fisher cat. The one from the horned tree was now circling the two. The Boy kept his eye on him as he circled and the fisher cat could not pounce. The boy drew his knife and out of desperation the fisher cat leapt and fell right into his blade.

At that moment the two younger Lumpeguins emerged from the forest. They went out to retrieve their skins when the Boy was not looking, but the Boy grabbed them first.

They pleaded for their skins, but the Boy with the stone heart ignored them. They pleaded and offered their bodies for they had two legs. Then the Boy said 'What good would you be to me if you got your skins back? You would only have one leg a piece.'

It was then the grandmother still in the skin of the bear charged at them that they retreated into the forest. When they were far enough away is when the grandmother took the Boy's heart out and gave it back. The Boy returned to her her rock and put his heart back in the right place. Then he put back on his breechcloth.

At that moment, while holding the Lumpeguins' skin, he had mercy on them. He did not wish the Trickster to be forced on them. That is when he had the idea to skin the fisher cats and give them to the Trickster instead.

So they followed the Bull Brook to the Egypt River and found the Trickster once more. "Boy, do you have my skins?"

"Yes. Do you have the Beechnut for me?"

"Yes, but the skins first."

"No, everyone knows not trust a trickster. You must give me the beechnut first." The Trickster gave in. He gave the Boy the nut. The Boy gave him the two skins.

It was at this point that the Trickster produced some powder from his bag around his neck and sprinkled it on the skins. It was a come to me powder to draw the owners of the skins to him.

It was then that you could hear the sound of banshees rushing into the clearing. Howls and cries. The Trickster thought it was the Lumpeguins crying for being called against their will. As they broke the tree line it was the fisher cats. They had come back from the dead to retrieve their skins.

The Boy remembered his grandmother's stories from when he was but a child that told that anything a trickster touched would turn to the opposite of what you thought it was. For when he touched the dead skin of the fisher cats, they would become a living skin again. For the Boy, remembered how the fisher cats had saved him from the rocks that crush and was grateful.

The fisher cats attacked the Trickster who turned into a hare and tried to jump away, but the fisher cats were faster. Then the Trickster turned into a giant skunk, but the fisher cats were not alive long enough to smell and they already were stinking like a corpse. It was only when he was able to turn into the Great Porcupine was he able to shoot his quills at them to slow them down enough to get away. As he transformed this last time he dropped the skins and the fisher cats retrieved them and came back to life and ran back to their wives.

Before they left the horned tree, the Boy left the skins of their wives in the hollow. So by the time the fisher cats returned they would be long gone. Also it was the sister that died that turned the second's and third's oldest hearts against the youngest two. With her gone the four sisters would be complete. The dead sister now could resurrect herself into the power of the love that binds her sisters. Now as people walk past their pool, if there is a man and a woman, they fall madly in love for this life and all their lives that follow.

The Boy found his Uncle's dog once more and they went to the uncle's house and healed him with the Beechnut. The Uncle asked how he knew he was sick. The Boy said we are family, we all have the same heart. With that Malsumsis bowed and the children cheered and Caroline and I gave a hearty round of clapping.

In the corner was Louie and Charlie-Talks-A-Lot. They did not hear a word of Malsumsis' story, they were too busy making up their own blarney. It was when Charlie looked away did the Pooka slap his ear. Charlie-Talks-A-Lot thought Louie had hit him and punched Louie straight in the jaw and Louie took him to the floor. Harvey just drank both of their drinks and laughed.

 

Chapter 50:

St. Stephen's Day

There were enough sacrifices this year.

The Hibernians had dressed in straw suits with straw hats looking like the Japanese shakuhachi playing monks that travelled the country side. They carried fake wrens and danced and sang like mummers through town.

During their parade I found Mary Beckford Knapp. She was with her father-in-law. She told me that they almost got her husband reprieved, but the Governor received a letter from her mother asking to have him hanged till dead. Gov Levi did not know that her mother shared the same name as her. They tried telling him the truth that Stephen White had poisoned his uncle and he began having doubts of Joseph committing the crime. He also had sent people to investigate Joseph's condition, but they hid him deep in the jail where the Governor could not find him.

I assured her all will be fine in the end and she thanked me and her father-in-law carried her away with his arm around her shoulder. He still was having trouble talking after Stephen had set up his staged suicide. Mary though fared better after she survived the noose as well, twice.

I followed the Hibernians' parade as they received gifts from Republicans for their great service keeping the city safe from fire. They terminated back at Lilly's. Outside her house I met up with Caroline and we went in.

Each of the Hibernians walked to the fireplace and placed their straw suits within the fire and crossed themselves and gave a small blessing. The blaze roared after the last suit was placed within.

Lilly had set each of them up with a hot glass of glög left over from Christmas. It was greatly appreciated since most of them needed to scare the chill out of their bones. Each carried their mug from the bar and scattered to the various tables.

Caroline brought me a glass of glög and settled on the couch next to me and leaned in toward the fire. "How was the parade?"

"Fine, they spoofed the Committee of Vigilance while walking down Federal Street." I said with a smile.

"Was there any trouble?" Caroline asked before she sipped her glög.

"Would you try to start any trouble with this bunch?"

"I guess not."

Parker then came from hanging out around the stairs watching the girls go by, "The neighborhood seems a bit more quiet." There has been less laudanum and opium deaths in the neighborhood since The Grand Turk was sunk. Hawkes had the ship towed back to be rebuilt for the Derby family. West had stationed a good troop on his wharf and has talked to the other Democrat wharfingers to patrol their wharves as well. They have kept the vampires out for now. Though Perkins and Joseph Peabody are still shipping fortunes of opium to our shores.

"Ain't it nice!" Caroline said as she snuggled in close to me. "Lilly has opened the rooms on the third floor to the girls who are trying to give up the dragon. She says it has been a hard go of it, but many have stayed off. Those who couldn't, she has faith that half might be back to try again."

I was taking sips of my glög. The fire and the mug were definitely helping to get the moisture out of my bones.

"I have been approached by Joseph Peabody to go in on a ship sailing to Canton, but I refused him. It is not reputable..." Parker said shaking his head as he leaned into the fire. "Do you think we will get a rail from Boston? We can then ship to the new mill cities the raw goods they need and finished goods to Towne."

"It will happen one day. The state just wants it on their terms and when. Stephen White, Perkins, and George Peabody are working for that goal. They have Elias Hasket Derby the Third fresh from Harvard Law working for them to petition the state." I said leaning back. The younger of the Derby's was one of Story's first pupils after he left the Supreme Court for Harvard.

It was inevitable that the train would be here soon. Peabody was heavily invested in Baltimore with Alexander Brown and the B&O Railroad. Perkins had his Quincy Granite Railroad he was dying to stretch out. Perkins had also talked about a rail from Boston to his factory in Lowell.

We heard a door slam from the wind. Joseph Knapp Sr. just walked in with his tweed surtout with several short capes across the shoulders. He shook the cold out of it and raised his hand and coughed. I got up and walked him to our corner. "What is the news old friend?"

"We are still propositioning Lincoln about my son's reprieve. My daughter-in-law's mother intervention did harm our intentions, but I think we might prevail," his voice has healed already since his attempted murder. "I did send Maria off to Haitian Town in New Bedford. She should be back tonight with your herbs."

"Just in time. We just need to mix the ingredients and we will be good." I said with a smile.

Chapter 51:

Childermas

Caroline's Boys were out in full. Some captained shallots for the day's fishing trips. In the shops they had sent their bosses to deliver the groceries. They rode in fine coaches. They even sat up at the bar at Lilly's and had a fine time.

Not only her boys, but all the kids in town were having fun pretending to be adults this holiday. There were a few boys puking over trash barrels though, but they came up smiling…

Larry came running into Lilly's out of breath, "They are taking them! Hurry! Great coaches are pulling them away!'

"Pulling who away?" asked Lilly who had kneeled down and held the boy's face in her hands.

"The kids! They are capturing them to impress them into the factories out west." Larry said in between breathes.

The Hibernians, Kettell, and me ran out. Larry came up from behind and called us on. We went to the Hibernian hose house on the corner of Daniels and Essex Street. We all got in their wagon and Louie jumped up and got the horses running.

We raced up Daniels took a left on Essex Street and zoomed past Watson's school and the powder house. We raced through the Common entering the break in the fence across from Forrester Street. As we left the Common we went up Brown Street and pulled a hard right on Williams Street. Before the hill heading down to the North River we seen the great wagon lined with bars. Members of the Committee of Vigilance had teamed with sailors from Perkins' ships to shove the children into the wagon.

Kettell jumped out first and confronted the closest to him who came down on him with a large club. Kettell looking over his left shoulder and grabbed him below his elbow and pushed his arm up and struck with his cane into the side of his ribs. Then threw the gentlemen's arm out to the side and swiped the back of his leg with his cane and threw him to the ground. Then he struck the next one on his neck with an outward swing. His right arm pushed on his chest and his right leg took out the tough's right leg. Kettell's cane came down on the man's sternum.

The Hibernians were having a ball. Many were throwing Perkins' men over the top of the wagon. I went up and opened the wagon and let the boys out. We ran down the hill and turned to the left and headed through the yards to Howard Street and the graveyard. I got the kids into the tunnel and headed them to safety.

Larry ran past the Old Captain's coffin and gave it a great kick as he went by. It seemed like a good idea, so I gave it a kick too.

I spent the rest of the day rounding up the children of the town before they could be captured. I found a bunch of kids on the Common and brought them into the tunnel under the Gazebo. I popped up on the triangle island on Winter Street and called 5 more into the tunnel.

Then we found a few more in front of what was Dick's tavern on Peabody Street and found 10 hanging around flirting with the ladies of his house. Ten more by the mill on Mill Pond. Twenty we got in through the Bulfinch's Poor House to the tunnel.

Also the Hibernians were giving them rides in their fire wagon. What kid didn't love to ride on a fire wagon. Many of the kids got to wear their helmets.

We brought many of the kids to their family's homes and told them of the danger and the rest who didn't had families we brought them to the Hibernian's station and the House of the Rising Sun.

Inside Lilly had a team of girls warming up hot chocolate for the boys. Many of the boys had a hearty appetite and drank up 3 refills each. Most of the boys started sporting large black mustaches and large grins.

Chapter 52:

New Year's Eve

It was the day of Joseph Knapp's hanging. His father was able to have one last visit. His son was still so far gone he didn't even realize his father was in the room. Rev. Coleman had the guards remove his father so he could perform extreme unction.

The scaffold was set up on the side of the Sheriff's house on the edge of the graveyard. The Governor was not going to reprieve Joseph. Stephen White watched the construction. He tested the strength of the rope and examined the working of the trapdoor with a smile of satisfaction.

Everything dragged on that day. Many had set up early claiming their spot in the cemetery. Many had laid down a gingham cloth and opened up picnic baskets of food and made it a celebration. You would never know it was winter time. The lanterns were lit. The police had to scramble many times to put up bonfires in the graveyard where people gathered to get warm.

Mary Beckford Knapp was having a hell of a time as she could not get rid of her mother who was trying to convince her she would be better without Joseph. She proceeded to call him all the names in the Black Man's book. Phippen had removed her from her mother and brought her to his father the elder Knapp.

Joseph was to drop on the stroke of midnight. Stephen even planned to hang a small bell to toll in the new year from his leg as he dropped.

A quarter to midnight Joseph was carried up to the scaffold by two guards who had his arms wrapped around their shoulders. Joseph had lost his legs. Once they put the noose around his neck, he was able to stand on his own with a slight bend to his knees.

The crowd cheered. Some just came for the party and yelled just for the sake of yelling. Most of the people in the graveyard were drunk as the skunks that ran in and out of the tombstones and along the edges of the graveyard's fence. As the night went on the crowd grew and got louder, most of them were unaware of the approaching hanging.

Many of the gave stones were knocked over that night. A bunch of spirits were awaken and took over the weaker and drunker souls and started fights. Many men slept alone that night. Many women found themselves coming out of a daze as they left the graveyard in strange men's arms only to kick them in the groin and run away.

It was bedlam in the Howard Street Cemetery. Many had seen the ghost of Giles Corey walking about through the stones. Below where Corey was pressed to death the ghost of Joseph White smiled as his revenge was about to be complete.

When it got to the last minute the crowd started counting down waiting for the head to drop. Those who were not counting started singing:

"bang the lever and see him drop,

hang him till his neck goes pop,

and send the gang to tell his pop."

 

As the New Year's Eve bells tolled from all the churches in town Joseph dropped and the bell around his foot began to sing out.

A quick sobriety fell over the crowd. Many came for the party. Those who came for the hanging fell silent. A few of the party goers emptied their stomachs on the closest grave. The party fell silent. The realization that death was ringing in the new year was brought home to many. Everyone just walked quietly out of the cemetery. Many of the spirits left the bodies they possessed and retuned to their coffins.

From behind the scaffold a few of Caroline's Boys were waiting, trying not to be seen.

Earlier that day Larry and a few of Caroline's Boys made their way into the prison. Once inside they met with some of the guards that were in Mumford's employment. They made their way to Joseph's cell and kicked Rev. Colman out.

Maria Beckford Knapp made it back in time from Haitian Town with the puffer fish she was sent for. I was able to mix it up with a few other ingredients to make a zombie powder that Mumford gave me that was an improvement on our old recipe. Larry was able to get Joseph to ingest it. He was so far drugged nobody would realize we gave him the powder.

Also Larry had placed a bronze hollow pipe down his throat. So when he dropped at midnight, the pipe saved his windpipe from snapping. Then the powder allowed Gideon to pronounce him dead.

We did the same for his brother Frank, which caused him to whistle as he was swinging. Larry also was able to create a distraction with Mumford's guards to create the opportunity to place a similar tube down Frank's throat when he was dazed. He was also the one who handed him the gibraltar laced with the powder before leaving his cell. We almost did not make the powder in time for him and had to send Larry back right before they carried Frank to the scaffold to give it to him.

Dick we were too late for. His death cued us in that there would not be a fair trial for any of them with Webster around after he killed Parker's cousin.

Frank, we already sent to Barbados. In the morning we were going to send Joseph on board West's Minerva to meet his brother. They both were reborn by 'The Slippery Tight Cunt'. Once the zombie powder wore off and the feeling of death subsided from the withdrawal of the dragon these two were reborn again within Eden.

Maria Beckford Knapp Jr., she was to sail after her husband had left, but her mother and Stephen had other plans for her. Which is a tale for a later story.

Chapter 53:

New Year's Day

Caroline and I had a quiet morning after awaking quite late in the afternoon. Well it was our morning…

There was a lot of work to revive Joseph, just enough to breathe normal again, and get him onto the Minerva which set sail at daybreak with the wind. I did not envy him. He was to take a trip a few weeks on the sea while going cold turkey from the drugs they had him on in prison. To be seasick and dope sick. May the lord have mercy on his soul.

Also with the new year, we seen Peabody head up the dock and board the Friendship for London. Whatever he came back for was finished. The excuse was to settle his mother's affairs, but it had more to do with the trains and this coming up election.

He had met with Clay and Webster. Some said he was hedging his bets in case either one won. Peabody never stayed on one side of the fence, but at the last minute he always had the uncanny sense to support the winner.

After meeting with Peabody, Clay began mentioning a new party named after the supporters of the Bank of England, the Whigs. Peabody for the Rothschilds and Perkins for Baring Brothers started to work together to manipulate the national bank that Monroe was forced to create to keep the nation from splitting. The four entities were to proffer greatly as they made sure the loans the bank gave congress were split between their two banks to capitalize on the interest payments on the budget Congress called for. With more and more in the Senate and the House on Barings' payroll they made sure the budget went up. Until Jackson stepped in and brought an end to this, but that too is a story for another time.

Caroline had made me a plate of Norwegian pancakes and mixed me a tall glass of chocolate milk. A ship from the tropics just came in and Caroline was able to get a pineapple and some mellon from south of the equator which she was indulging in for her New Year's breakfast. Over breakfast I read the Gazette.

Hawthorne had another strange tale printed that made the front page. Still he was not credited for it. In another story it talked about the Mormons pulling support for Webster. Louie had said he seen many riding the stage back to New York. I don't think it will be the last of them. I expect Joseph Smith to return soon to look for my treasures. He was looking for any relic touched by Christ to catapult him to the presidency.

On the last page we read that Louie had ran away with West's daughter Sarah for New York City. The Pauper and the Princess. Sarah had her own driver take them and Louie got to sit inside the coach for once.

I think Harvey was looking for a vacation and a new place to haunt to cause some new mischief in.

Prologue:

We had our toast to Judge Parker, William's cousin. George and Charles were in the corner with cardboard, paper, and pens. They were making a new past time for themselves. Something that just became fashionable; a board game. They had heard us reminiscing over the strange events of 1830.

We could here them talking about murder and deceit in the corner. Later we realized the Parker brothers drew a floor plan of the old White mansion that West had built. They even included the tunnel that was a lot like the one their grandfather had in his basement. On pieces of paper they drew a lead pipe and a Scottish Dirk among other things as game tokens. In fact they were acting out parts of this murder when I found them in the Common. All of the people involved in the murder had lived within a block of the Common. It was the local myth that led to the neighborhood kids acting out the murder and a famous game in their old age.

For More Info on the History of Salem and the Tunnels that Made the First Fortunes in America and how that Shaped Our Country, Read These Books by Christopher Jon Luke Dowgin:

Christopher Jon Luke is the author of the Sinclair Narratives; the adventures of the immortal Henry Sinclair who sailed from Orkney with his motley group of Vikings a hundred years before Columbus. He is the author of 15 other books as well. He has been a resident of Salem, MA for 27 years. He is a recovering chocolate addict who wishes to remain a milkaphile for the rest of his life like all good Vikings are.

Look for new Sinclair Narratives in the quarterly Arkham; Tales from the Flipside magazine available on:

www.salemhousepress.com.