Chris Kuzneski - The Prophecy

‘I don’t care who tells me,’ Jones growled. ‘Just give me the damn answer!’

Smiling from ear to ear, Megan stood up and walked to the board. She grabbed a red marker and made a slash through the middle of the Italian word. Now it read:

A/more from the lost line.

‘Do me a favour,’ she said to Jones. ‘Read this phonetically.’

He did as he was told. ‘A more from the lost line.’

A few seconds passed before Jones understood the pun. ‘Holy shit! They used your name in the verse. A Moore from the lost line. I have to admit, that’s pretty cool.’

‘It’s cool,’ he admitted, ‘but is it good news?’

‘What do you mean?’

Jones smiled. ‘Now that we know the poem is about you, there’s no getting rid of us. You’re gonna be stuck with us until the bitter end.’

49

Although Payne and Megan’s work on the first half of the verse was impressive, Jones wasn’t going to let them steal all the glory — especially since Payne had figured out ‘Philly’ the day before. If Jones didn’t start pulling his weight soon, he knew he’d never hear the end of it.

‘So,’ Payne taunted Jones as he took a seat next to Megan, ‘I vaguely remember you saying something about understanding the significance of “the lost line”. Or was that just bullshit?’

Jones smirked, enjoying the added pressure. Over the years he had developed a friendly rivalry with Payne in just about everything they did, whether that was golf, bowling, or guessing the names of total strangers. Neither man liked to lose, which was one of the reasons they had worked so well together in the MANIACs. Their drive to be the best made everyone better. ‘No, I’m pretty sure I know what it means. In fact, your discovery actually strengthened my case.’

‘Glad we could help. Now quit stalling.’

A Moore from the lost line.

Jones asked, ‘What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you read this line?’

Payne shrugged. ‘Something to do with Megan’s ancestry.’

‘That was my first guess, too. Line stands for lineage . Pretty simple, right?’

‘Right,’ Megan agreed.

Jones continued. ‘Furthermore, if you think about the final word in lines one and three — brothers and mother — they have to do with family as well. Which fits in nicely with the theory that the first three lines are connected. Remember, none of them have verbs.’

Payne nodded. ‘We’re all in agreement. Those lines are talking about Megan.’

Jones smiled cryptically. ‘And yet we’re still missing a key piece of information. How does Megan’s lineage fit into all of this? What has actually been lost?’

‘I’m guessing you have a theory.’

Your fortune waits for you.

Protect it with your life.

Death shall visit those untrue.

Blood of his first wife.

Payne skimmed the quatrain. ‘Care to narrow it down for us?’

‘I could,’ Jones said, ‘but I think it’s pretty obvious. Only one line talks about family.’

Megan pointed at the board. ‘The fourth one. It mentions someone’s wife.’

‘Not only that,’ Jones said as he underlined three words: waits, protect, and shall. ‘It’s the only line in this poem that doesn’t have a verb.’ He paused for a moment, then glanced at Megan. ‘How about that? I guess they do teach grammar at the service academies.’

She smiled, remembering her earlier wisecrack. ‘ Touché .’

‘Okay,’ Payne admitted, ‘you make a pretty strong case. The fourth line seems to connect with the first three lines from the other poem.

‘Don’t worry. I was just getting to that.’

Jones erased the first three lines of the poem. When he was done, only two lines remained on the board: A Moore from the lost line.

Blood of his first wife.

Wasting no time, Jones explained how they were connected. ‘As soon as I saw the word line, my mind jumped to bloodline. I mean, when you’re discussing someone’s lineage, that’s what you’re actually referring to: their bloodline. Then it dawned on me that “line” ended one verse and “blood” began another. That led me to believe that the two statements could be combined. All you have to do is tweak the word order a tad, and you get the following…’

A Moore from the lost bloodline of his first wife.

Jones grinned in triumph. ‘Not too shabby, huh?’

Payne nodded. ‘Not bad at all.’

Jones turned his attention to Megan. ‘Of course,

Megan shrugged as she read the line. ‘I have absolutely no idea. My adoptive parents were high-school sweethearts, so they weren’t married beforehand. And as far as I know, neither were my biological parents. Then again, I never met either of them. My mom died in childbirth, and my father split right after conception. At least, that’s what I was told.’

‘Although you never met them, do you remember their names?’

She nodded, as if the memory was a painful one.

‘Then I can probably help. Let’s go into the other room and run some data searches on my laptop. I’ve tracked down several deadbeat dads over the years. If we’re lucky, we’ll find something useful.’

She stood from her chair. ‘Sounds good to me.’

Jones walked towards the door. ‘Please tell me their names weren’t Jesus and Mary. Because if this is some kind of Da Vinci Code bullshit, you’re on your own.’

She laughed at the suggestion. ‘I drink water. I don’t walk on it.’

Payne knew Jones and Megan didn’t need his help, so he sat behind the desk and used his encrypted cell phone to contact the Ulster Archives. Even though it was night time in Küsendorf, Petr Ulster answered the call in his private office.

‘I’m so glad you called,’ Ulster said. ‘I was beginning to worry about your safety.’

‘Don’t worry. We’re fine.’

‘No more run-ins with gunmen?’

‘Only one, so it’s been an easy day.’

Ulster laughed at the comment. ‘Oh, Jonathon, you slay me!’

‘Ironically, that’s what he was trying to do to us. I’m not quite sure where they’re coming from, but they’re persistent.’

‘So,’ Ulster said, ‘we’re you simply checking in, or did you need further help?’

‘Believe it or not, I was calling to give you an update. We put our heads together and figured out these poems. As you suggested, the author was pretty clever.’

‘Did you say poems , as in plural?’

Payne rubbed his eyes. ‘That’s right. I haven’t

He took a few minutes to explain everything to Ulster, starting with Megan’s text and ending with the solutions to the puzzles. During the explanation, Ulster said very little, but he wrote all the deciphered codes in a notebook so he could re-examine them later.

‘What about the letter? Did you find the original letter?’

Payne nodded. ‘Sorry, I should have mentioned that, too. I’m looking at it right now.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Ulster said excitedly. ‘What type of paper?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not an expert. Some kind of parchment, I guess.’

‘Does it look old?’

‘Yep. Pretty fancy, too. It’s held up well over the years.’

‘Tell me, do you have a black light on your person?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘A device for seeing bloodstains and such.’

Payne laughed at the possibility. ‘Why in the world would I have a black light? I make bloodstains. I don’t examine them.’

‘Yes, of course, how silly of me. In that case,

‘A discotheque? No, Petr, we’re at an airbase, not Studio 54. Why?’

‘An airbase might work! Do they have war planes? Perhaps something from the forties?’