Prologue

On a sacred altar where lies have been told, many have come to see horrors sold: Though one will tell of a better tomorrow, The end will come with a burning sorrow.  -- Nostradamus 1564.

 I am the instrument appointed to uncurtain this ancient mystery. -- Mark Twain: "A Strange Dream" 1866.

From:

Professor Jordan, Occult Investigator,  1862

Subject:

Code Name: Beyond the Blue and the Gray

 I am proud to report that I have expanded our effort to unveil charlatans employing mysticism, carnival tricks, and séances to take advantage of vulnerable citizens to focus on crimes against those who have loved ones in the line of battle, my attention has been drawn to a potentially dangerous area.

Recently I received a package, anonymously, of course, containing a book of the 16th Century Prophecies of Nostradamus. While the sender remains anonymous, the sender's intent seems clear: to portend some mystical development to challenge the Department to stop some monstrous event from happening.

These badly rhymed quatrains are written in French with a dash of Italian, Greek, and Latin; and they have been and continue to be interpreted to predict events to and beyond the millennium. Historically the writings of Nostradamus (Michel de Notre dame) are supposed to have predicted the death of popes, the rise of tyrants, and the occurrence of natural disasters; but his quatrains are sufficiently obscure to predict any occurrence to any people, famous or not.

While I shall try to prevent this unknown person from reaching his goals, exactly which of the warnings contained in Nostradamus's 492 quatrains are to be heeded today I can not say. Nevertheless, it remains frightening that the destinies of our citizens may be teetering on 16th Century poetry that can be interpreted to support conflicting, not to say contradictory, conclusions.

The only present departmental connection to the mystery implied here concerns a young lady named Jancy Hall, who performs with a stage magician named Tonio de Aldo, whose ancestry reportedly contains the unlikely mixture of Italian and American Indian blood. Miss Hall came to my attention through reports of her "Gift of Seeing," a claimed ability to see what has happened miles away--specifically in the Hall woman's case, on current battlefields.

Some currency manipulation (notably gold) appears to be linked with the Hall woman's predictions and prophecies. To advance the investigation, I have hired a young man who is conversant with Jancy Hall's background. He claims she is linked romantically to the magician de Aldo. My expectation is that this woman's relationship with the illusionist may be the twist of fate needed to uncork the bottled warnings of Nostradamus that have surfaced in our sea of the occult.

Chapter 12: A Dead Bird Comes Alive

When we left our story,

 ... there was a hint that Jancy would  continue moving about like a gypsy, or perhaps even becoming one.

                                  * * * *

Down at the dock, the night was so misty that the Professor noted that most of the prostitutes had gone home and left the groaning to the ships moored at the wharf.

The pier was studded with vessels. As Tonio and the Professor worked their way toward Sir Richard's ship, they saw a wag of gypsies arrive with seven women stepping out, all dark-eyed save one, who had China-blue eyes. Jancy was the prettiest and the youngest. Her hair was now blue-black, long and braided. Her full dress was sewn with bright flowers, and her jewelry was stamped with shiny coins.

Breaking away from the Professor, Tonio hooked the wax bomb around his neck and dashed through the group of longshoremen who were loading Union supplies onto the next steamer.

Tonio swung by rope and jumped from the Union ship directly onto the bow of the Lucky Seven.

Inside the main cabin on Sir Richard's yacht, uniformed attendants were offering the ladies their choice of fresh flowers for their bouquets. The women were wearing crimson velvets, silk and satins, their bonnets and hoops having stayed at home.

In the back cabin, Jancy brushed her long black hair, waiting patiently, visualizing the women up front, much in vogue with their hair up in curls and dusted with gold powder.

While the women were giddy from their bubble of influence, their male escorts were making their selections from a vast display of wines and cigars.

Jancy waited for her moment to produce the shock that would deflate the fizz of these ostentatiously rich people, while in the galley, gypsy-helper Chester worked on the chicken dishes while the cooks competed to do something special with poached quail eggs, truffles vinaigrette, and smoked trout.

In the main cabin, Sir Richard was toasting his guests and signaling for the gypsy dancers to begin. He began his remarks as the bouncy ensemble of seven dancers gathered together and then separated in a whirlpool of energy. "We are on the eve of the do-or-die pressure of opening night. Let us celebrate the countless hours of rehearsals that end this evening, even as I speak."

The music turned gay, and the seven barefooted female gypsies began an exuberant dance, with the dark-skinned Jancy hoping that her perspiring would not ruin her make-up as she danced around Sir Richard, clicking her castanets under his nose, causing the small man to start up a conversation. "Do you know who I am, young lady?"

"Yes, a man born with serious limitations."

Unsure of her meaning, Sir Richard tried again to impress her. "Shakespeare's Hamlet has said, we know who we are, but know not what we may be. Perhaps, pretty lady, I am the agent of your destiny."

Meanwhile, Tonio was being offered several choices for his own destiny. The first thing he decided to do was to jump off the upper deck instead of being stroked by a length of steel coil that was being swung at him.

Then as one of the crew came at him with hammer in hand, he decided to use some of his magic. From inside his sleeve he drew a pistol and used the blunt end to nail his head.

Back inside, dinner was being served, and the gypsy dancers with a series of tight turns and thunderous foot stomping greeted the late arriving Commodore Whitehead.

Unimpressed, the Commodore drifted his large form through the cabin door and lumbered over to the long table, ready to satisfy his thirst by sampling the seven different punch bowls dispensing cheer.

Sir Richard stood up, ready to perform the host's ritual of carving the first piece of chicken off the platter that the gypsy-dressed Chester had brought in,

With a nod from the Commodore, Sir Richard aimed his knife to cut, but before he could begin, the door of the cabin burst open, and one of his henchmen rushed in with the news that Hamlet would not open tomorrow because the theatre had been set afire.

The news got worse when the impresario was told that he had been robbed and that his safe had been emptied.

At that very moment, Jancy leaned over and stabbed a fork into the baked chicken. Suddenly the cooked bird came alive and sprang off the platter. A gasp of horror went through the guests as several of the servants gave chase to the ‘dead’ bird.

Squawking and fluttering, the seemingly reborn fowl was given a wide berth until finally it was shooed to the deck, where it beat its wings, ultimately flapping itself off the side of the ship.

The Commodore stubbed out his cigar, and led the way for the fancily dressed guests to make unfanciful exits, falling over themselves in their rush to abandon the ship.
In an effort to find an explanation, Sir Richard turned to the young blue-eyed gypsy, but Jancy had used the chicken's fluttering to make a quick exit.

On deck, Tonio also moved quickly. With the wax bomb still secured around his neck, he used a barbed fishing spear to ward off a couple of Sir Richard's thugs who were trying to throw a net over him.

Meanwhile, Chester was the first to reach the Professor on the dock and give his account of how he had followed the diversionary plan.

"I did just as you wrote. In the galley I plucked the live chicken, sending the poor thing trembling in the cold without its feathers. Then I rotated a shiny earring slowly before its eyes, and that technique worked like magic. The creature was totally mesmerized. Then I placed the sleeping bird on the platter and tucked its head under the potatoes and vegetables garnishing the plate. After that, I covered it with herb paste to make it look as if it had been roasted."

Jancy arrived in time to add the final line. "And all that remained was for my fork to awaken it."

On deck, Tonio executed one of his stage leaps, a seemingly slow flight through the air that resulted in the net-thrower being booted into his own net.

Freed momentarily from his attackers, Tonio removed the wax bomb and lit the fuse.

Above deck, Sir Richard emerged from the cabin carrying one of his sharp shooting rifles. He took aim at Tonio. Resting his gun on the nearby wooden barrel, he fired but the movement of the splashing jellyfish caused his shot to go wild.

Infuriated, Sir Richard drew a pistol and rushed down the steps toward Tonio.

Tonio meanwhile tossed his bomb into the ship's boiler room. The initial blast from the lighted bomb caused the vessel to shudder. Then the explosion of the boiler created a new kind of horror, spraying out scalding steam from stem to stern. A final greatly accelerated charge of steam added one final wallop that broke the ship's back.

...continued above right, column two