Maglor’s adventures

We will return to Maglor’s adventure at another time. If this story line is one you happened to vote for, rest assured his journey will resume.

Story 2: Adventure of the Nomad

Since the early days of ancient Greece, all men dreamed of one day challenging the Gods. Much like when Zeus toppled his father Cronus the Titan, humans thought they were now ready to rule supreme.

No man, however, dared challenge the Gods.

Despite those reigns coming to an end at the fall of the Greek empire, no one challenged the Gods as Olympus remained silent. A few of the deities remained, however, following the fall of the empire. Olympus began to grow stronger again with the help of Athena and Artemis orchestrating the underground effort. Hermes took his place on the throne in lieu of the might Zeus and the Olympians began to rebuild.

But this could not be allowed to happen. Human’s were blind to see the tides of change reverse once again, but the other creatures were not.

Word spread around the land of the awakening of the Gods. It went as far as Scandinavia where it caught the attention of a young elf nomad. He knew of the Gods ascent into power and their ability to conceal and deceive until the time was right to act. He understood the keen battle intellect of Athena and the ruthless cruelty of Ares. Maglor knew he could not stand idly by while this happened.

Maglor lived far in the woods of Scandinavia and it was a harsh winter that far north–one of the worst in decades. And it was most certainly the worst he had endured. Even his elf tailored charcoal colored afghan that was designed for the harshness of the Northern European forest. It was crafted with tapestry woven by the fey and enchanted with elf magic and the warmest in the land, but Maglor still shivered late at night. A trip to the Southern Earth would do me well, he thought while putting out his campfire.

He picked up his bow, sheath and survival knapsack, which was filled with food for his travels, and hopped into a tree for the evening. Maglor draped the hood of his afghan over his wind burnt face and turned to his side to rest for the evening. Artemis is a bitch, he thought. Right then he decided he would begin his journey to Greece and confront the remaining Gods.

The sun rise stirred Maglor from his slumber. He dreamt of his journey south and came to the conclusion he would need some help on this quest, but he knew of no one he could trust. Then again, a nomad trusts no one–an elvish nomad trusts less.

The fresh snow of the evening made it easy for Maglor to hunt his next few meals. He gathered a few rabbits and a hedgehog in his hunt that he packed up for later. As he began his journey, he couldn’t decide where to go to first for help.

Where does Maglor go?
 

Story 1 Conclusion: The Case of the Missing Rifle

Hoping to still catch up with the master thief, Han and Maggie sped down the country roads trying to get to the Peers house before they missed their opportunity.

“He’s probably long gone by now,” explained Maggie. “I mean we didn’t even ask Logan when he saw this guy last. He could be anywhere.”

“Yes, he could be,” agreed Han. “But only if anywhere includes here or Chicago. He wouldn’t go too far from home or the find–assuming he hasn’t yet found it.”

“Didn’t the riddle say he found it?” asked Maggie. “He just wanted us to figure out what it is he stole?”

“No, he meant it like a scavenger hunt. He was giving us clues to see who could find it first. He’s got to be one of those two places.”

“Why are you so convinced he’s from Chicago? He could be a nut from anywhere in the country.”

“True,” agreed Han again. “But he isn’t. He said a man and a woman specifically to Logan, which means he’s seen both of us. While I can’t deny I’ve been in the press a few times, you’re rather anonymous still. He’s had to have seen us in person.”

“So it’s someone we know,” recoiled Maggie. The mere thought of someone she knows acting like a treasure hunting lunatic and stalking them ran chills down her spine.

“Not necessarily,” Han said. “He could be anyone watching us. Studying our every move.”

“That isn’t much more reassuring,” Maggie explained.

As they arrived at the Peers house there was quite a commotion. Police cars were parked in the drive and on the streets with their lights flashing a blue and red glow into the Virginia sun down. The headlights were on, but not bright enough to blind anyone in the haze of sunset.

Han parked the car on the side of the road and quickly ran up the drive. A uniformed officer stopped him short of the stairs leading to the door.

“Sorry sir,” the office said holding up his hand. “This is a crime scene. Nobody can see the house right now.”

“I’m an officer of the law from Chicago,” explained Han while quickly opening and closing his wallet so the officer didn’t notice there wasn’t a badge. “We’re chasing a man down here we believe to be a little, well, mentally unstable chasing some old legend about a relic rifle.”

The officer stared at him for a second and finally said, “Well, whatever it was he was willing to kill for it. He’s long gone and a tourist who may have seen too much got stabbed in the neck with a stray letter opener. Only thing is the perp was wearing gloves so no finger prints yet. We’re still hoping for some DNA evidence to help us get this guy.”

“Did anyone else see him?” asked Han.

“They said it was a pretty busy day and it was hard to keep track of who was coming and going around the property. No one is allowed inside, but some how the thief got in. It’s a decent tourist attraction so someone must have seen him, but didn’t live to tell about it” explained the officer.

Han walked back toward the car swiftly with a sour look on his face. He opened the driver’s side door and slammed it when he got in.

“What?” asked Maggie. “What’s going on?”

“We’re too late and someone’s dead because of it.” said Han still staring at the house. “We missed him and there’s no trace. Not a clue to be found the door guard said. Looks like we’ll have to pick this back up in Chicago.”

The case remains unsolved.

Vote here for the next story: What’s the next story?

Part 5: The Case of the Missing Rifle

“He said something that sounded like it was outta the movies,” explained Logan in his light southern draw. “He was carrying on about the Legend of Grant’s Musket has been proven, blah, blah, blah. It was just a bunch of nonsense. Everyone knows that’s an old urban legend. He also said the key was in the address. Whatever that means. He seemed like a real loon, if you ask me.”

“Are you sure he said it was in ‘the address’?” asked Han with his hand stroking his chin. Logan nodded. He was on to something, thought Han, but what? “Now when he was going on about the legend being proven, what else did he say?”

Maggie tugged on his arm and whispered, “What do those things have to do with one another?” Han just raised is hand indicating her to wait for his response.

“He said he found it, but what I think he found was a discarded guard weapon. He said he followed the stairs, but I’ve never seen any in the Courthouse.”

“Tell me, Logan, is there a cemetery near by, particularly one with a crypt?”

“There’s just the Confederate Cemetery, but it doesn’t have any crypts I don’t believe,” Logan said with a quizzical look on his face.

“None of that makes any sense,” Han mumbled loud enough for both of them to hear. “The only reference in the Gettysburg Address is to the dead, but if there’s no crypt, there’s no secret passages that lead into the basement here.” He started pacing looking around the building.

“Is he alright?” asked Logan.

“Hardly ever,” Maggie said.

They both just watched as Han examined the grounds. He was looking for anything that didn’t seem to fit, but nothing was sticking out. It all seemed–normal. That cemetery was at least two miles away so it made sense to use it, but so far nothing has made sense.

“What’s the physical address of the New Courthouse again?” asked Maggie. Han’s eyes darted right at Logan. It caught him a little off guard and Logan stuttered a second.

“Um, uh, oh 311 George Peers Drive.” stammered Logan. Even though he worked there the accusatory look from Han made him nervous for some reason.

“Peers?” Han said while swiftly walking toward Logan stopping only just outside his personal bubble. “As in the Peers House and George Peers as in the former County Clerk?”

“Why, yes, actually.”

“Come on Maggie we’re at the wrong goddamn spot.” Han started toward the rental car.

“Wait!” shouted Maggie. Han stopped and turned around, but just stood there. “What does that have to do with anything? Would you please explain?”

Han shouted “The Peers House has historical significance. In what, you ask? The surrender of Robert E. Lee at Appomattox to Ulysses S. Grant. Where else would that rifle be? They never buried it at all. They started that rumor to throw off anyone who was looking for it. How could I have been so blind? Hurry up now so we can catch up to him!”

With that Maggie thanks Logan for his time, slipped him a couple cigarettes and ran back to the car.

“Where are we going?” Maggie asked.

Vote: Where do they go?

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Part 4: The Case of the Missing Rifle

“Then, to Appomattox we go!” exclaimed Han. He bolted into his office and started gathering notebooks and pens and reference guides as he packed for their journey. Maggie followed behind.

“How are we getting there?” asked Maggie from across the room.

“We’re driving of course.” He rolled his eyes still shuffling through the contents on his desk.

“What do you mean ‘We’re driving’? Do you have any idea how far that is from here? It’s at least 12 hours.”

“That’ll be plenty of time for us to get better acquainted,” Han explained as he dug through his desk drawers. “I mean you’ve worked here for over a year now and anything I know about you, I’ve had to deduce on my own.”

“That’s the way I like it. Why don’t we fly?”

Han stood straight up and stared at her blankly. He couldn’t believe she’d even suggest such a thing. He was afraid of flying–well truth be told it was more the crashing into a mountain side or skyscraper that scared him. “Do you know any direct flights to Appomattox?” He scoffed indignantly.

“Well, there are flights that go into Lynchburg from O’Hare. From there it’s a 30 minute rental car ride to Appomattox,” she rattled off staring at her phone. For once she was one step ahead of him.

“So you want to fly and miss out on all the beautiful scenery the United States has to offer?”

“Yes,” she said. “In fact, I’m booking two tickets right now and putting it on your credit card.”

Han just stared in disgust. “We’re not going to be there very long I don’t believe,” he said trying to bargain with her.

“Then I’ll just book one-ways for now,” replied Maggie.

With that they packed, took a cab to the airport and headed on their way to Appomattox, VA on Air Wisconsin.

On the plane, Han clenched the arm rests as if they somehow kept the plane from plummeting back to the ground after take off. He was swearing Maggie in his head imagining different ways to torture her without leaving any marks. He thought of dozens before the seat belt light was even off.

When they landed and collected their baggage they picked up their rental at the airport, then headed toward Appomattox. Virginia had a beautiful landscape and the Courthouse site was no exception. Even though it was winter, everything still looked pristine. It has been maintained by the National Park Serivce since 1935 and many things have never changed. Some of the remaining buildings were from the nineteenth century. and still had the original brick designs. The rebuilt courthouse was a majesty of itself. It stood about two or three stories tall, not including the bell tower, and was red brick all around the outside with three Roman style pillars at the entrance of the courthouse.

“Morning,” a stranger said in the distance. He had a bit of a Southern accent, but it wasn’t overpowering.

Han covered his eyes from the sun and called back, “Morning. We were just admiring the courthouse”

“She’s a beaut isn’t she? With the exception of some general maintenance it’s the original building from 1892,” the stranger explained. “Yep, she sure is a wonderful attraction for tourists.”

“I’m Han and this is my assistant Maggie.”

“The name’s Logan. I work at the courthouse as a court reporter. Can’t say I’ve seen you two around here before.”

“We’re just in town visiting,” said Maggie. “Just needed to get away from city life for a while.”

“You folks from Raleigh?”

“Chicago,” replied Han. “You haven’t noticed anything strange going on around here lately, have you?”

“Define strange,” said Logan. “We get tourists from all over the country. Some of them even have those ear lobe stretchers. Pretty strange in and of itself if you ask me.”

Fair enough, thought Han. “Let me rephrase, has anyone been overly curious about the Courthouse?”

“Besides you right now?” asked Logan. Han nodded. “Only every other tourist that comes round this way. Did have one fella ask me about a secret chamber in the courthouse, but as I explained to him, I’ve been through every inch of that courthouse and I haven’t seen anything.”

“This ‘fella’,” Han began, “what did he look like?”

“Average I guess. Nothing really stood out to me about him,” Logan thoughtfully explained. “He did come back before he left and sought me out again. But I’m a smoker, so I’m not all that hard to find.

“What did he say?” Han and Maggie asked in sync.

What did he say?

Part 3: The Case of the Missing Rifle

“I’m dialing out for lunch,” said Han. “No point in trying to solve this riddle on an empty stomach.”

He ordered Chinese for him and Maggie and after it arrived they sat down to discuss the phrasing of the riddle.

“All riddles have clues built right into them,” he explained. “Notice how some of the letters are capitalized in the middle of sentences?” He pointed to “General” and “Steeple” in the last sentence. “These words are obviously referencing a specific person and place. Now the end of the phrase  “fall of a stone wall” isn’t capitalized, but I think that’s to throw us off.” Maggie looked puzzled.

“Now, don’t color me stupid just yet,” she said. “I know the point is to throw us off the trail, but why would he take the time to capitalize the other two then? ”

“I never said it was a ‘he’, but glad you asked!” exclaimed Han. “He or she’s insulting us the further we go down the riddle. And the pun at the end is just in poor taste. He or she is trying to flaunt superior intellect, which is an act of arrogance, if you ask me.”

“You should know,” glared Maggie. Han ignored the comment and examined the piece of paper. He turned it on its side, upside down and to the other side before putting it up right again. Maggie just sat there eating her Crab Rangoon trying to steal glimpses of TMZ on her phone when Han wasn’t looking.

“You know, instead of reading of how other people live their lives, maybe you should take action and live yours,” Han said snottily.

“Maybe you should mind your own damn business and solve the riddle,” Maggie came back. “Besides how did you know what I was doing.”

“After each bite of your food you quickly glance at me and then stare at your phone. You’re making sure I’m not looking because you’re doing something you’re not supposed to instead of paying attention or helping out. So it’s easy to deduce you’re looking at your celebrity gossip as that’s how you spend most of your day anyway. Researching how life is lived is fine, but how about you do some research that actually matters instead.”

“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole about it,” she said.

“Actually, I do.” Han said indignantly. “If I asked nicely, you would have just rolled your eyes and did it more openly. At least now you feel bad and you’ll do your job.”

Maggie wanted to strangle him. In fact, she had been mentally murdering him for years, but he wouldn’t die psychically. “What do you want me to look up?” asked Maggie with a huff in her tone.

“As a matter of fact, just the name of the town where the Appomattox Courthouse is in Virginia will be fine.” Han just had an epiphany. Of course, he thought, it couldn’t have been more obvious.

“Why do you want me to look that up?”

Han just hung his head and shook it. “He couldn’t have said it any clearer. “‘stone wall’ refers to General Stonewall Jackson, ‘General’ refers to former president Ulysses S. Grant and ‘Steeple’ refers to Appomattox Courthouse, which was rebuilt in 1892 with a bell tower that can easily be confused for a steeple by someone who doesn’t know architecture.” The more he explained the more excited he got. “Those words coupled with the fact it’s from the past and can only be used once before being ‘packed anew,’ which refers to reloading. So!? What does that tell us.” Maggie just stared at him. “Seriously? Not even a guess?”

“Whoever it is really likes Civil War history?” she snarked.

“The thief stole Ulysses S. Grants musket!” Han declared.

“Was it at the courthouse still?”

“Legend has it, following the fire of the old courthouse, the rifle was hidden in secret passages in the new courthouse. So if that’s the case, then the thief has the rifle. And if he or she has it, we need to recover it and get it to the Smithsonian.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“What’s the name of the town?”

“Appomattox, Virginia–genius.”

How do they start?

Part 2: The Case of the Missing Rifle

As the door swung open both Han and Maggie had disappointed looks on their faces as it was just their mailman, Keith, who walked through the door.

“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Keith said with a smile.

“Sorry, Keith, it’s not you,” explained Maggie. “It’s been an unbelievably slow day and we were hoping you were, well, anyone else.”

“It’s OK,” said Keith. “I’m the mailman so most people do wish for someone else. Unless it’s the holidays, all I ever bring is bad news and junk, which are the two things no one ever wants.”  With that he handed Maggie the mail as Han just stood there looking off into space. Keith walked back out the door and continued his route.

Among the mail was one large manila envelope among other normal, white envelopes. One of the envelopes was addressed from “The Law Offices of Sphincter and Sons.” Maggie new exactly what this was. It was from her ex-husbands lawyers. She began to open it when Han interrupted, “What’s the large one?”

She handed the envelope to Han. It had no return address and his office’s address was typed on the front as if done by a typewriter.

“That’s strange,” said Han.

“What’s strange,” asked Maggie.

“Our address was typed on the front of the envelope by a typewriter,” he pointed out.

“So?” Maggie looked puzzled.

“So,” Han began, “It’s 2013. People usually feed these things through printers or put labels on them. This, however, was carefully typed out.”

“Maybe they don’t have a computer,” said Maggie.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Name one person you know who isn’t in assisted living or a mountain man who doesn’t at least own one desktop computer. This person was calculated. This was done with purpose.”

He grabbed the letter opener off of her desk and slid it across a side of the envelope. He pulled out a piece of paper, studied it for a second and then disappeared into his office for a moment.

Maggie started to follow him, but he came back quickly with his mobile phone and the piece of paper still in hand. She grabbed it out of his hands and read it:

 Hello Private Dick,

I have taken something from the past and hidden it from view.

It can only be used once before it’s no good and needs to be packed anew.

It saw the fall of a stone wall and a freedom of people.

I am a General tool from the mid-nineteenth century recovered from a Steeple.

What am I?

Happy hunting…

“Why is it all written with magazine letters?” asked Maggie.

“Simple,” Han said. “Whoever sent this, doesn’t want to be found.”

“What’s the phone for?” Maggie asked.

What is the phone for?

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Story 1: The Case of the Missing Rifle

Han hated winter. It wasn’t the bitterness of the Chicago winter that bothered him nor was it the fact February was notorious for bleak cloudy days. What bothered Han most about the winter was times were slow around the office. His days were filled with “Googling” his name and tossing playing cards into his fedora.

His assistant, Maggie, didn’t mind the slowness as much. She was able to catch up on her celebrity gossip and not chase burglar’s, liars and, sometimes, killers for a while. She generally liked the work and helping people, but when it came to putting her life on the line, she’s generally pretty reluctant to repeat on a daily basis. It’s the spring she liked the best though. It was the best of both worlds because she didn’t have to chase “dangerous” criminals and got to solve infidelity cases instead. She liked sticking it to cheating spouses more than doing the police’s job.

Maggie wasn’t always a detective’s assistant. She used to be a “trophy wife” to one of the top CEOs in the city. She didn’t look like a Swedish model by any means, but she was attractive. She stood about 5’2″ without heels, although she doesn’t have much use for them now in her line of work, flowing brunette hair down to about mid back that curled in the humidity and was known to do a Pilate or two in her day so looked to be in good shape. Her easy ride changed though when she found him sleeping around with the Alderman of his district. After doing a brief stint in Joliet for attempting to kill a city official, she came to work for Han. The Alderman wasn’t all that well liked by the judge and 26th and California so she got a more lenient deal than she probably deserved and only wound up doing five years.

Han liked Maggie. She was a hard worker and cunning to boot. On occasion he’d joke that she may have a sharper mind than him, but they both knew that wasn’t true. Han had solved every case that came across his desk before she started with him. He’d do it faster than the police, though it wasn’t always as neat and tidy. He wasn’t an imposing man by any means so brute force was always his last resort. He only stood about 5’10” and had an average frame. He worked out on occasion, admittedly not as much as he should, but then he relied more on his mind than his muscle.

“Maggie!” Han cried from his office.

“We have an intercom system ya know,” she snorted into the phone on her desk. “What do you need Mr. Kyle?”

“Anyone come by yet or call?” He said into the phone on his desk embarrassed.

“Have you heard the door open or the phone ring? No? That is a mystery. I’ve gotten like three cases in the last hour,” she replied coyly.

“Really?” He jumped out of his seat and ran for his office door. As he threw it open he saw her sitting there grinning from ear to ear and giving him the finger.

“No. Not really. That’s the fifth time you’ve asked me that today and it’s only noon. Go for a walk or something and leave me the hell alone.”

“You know, people get fired everyday for less,” he threatened.

“Maybe they should work for you then,” she retorted. “All talk and no follow through. Or am I just that invaluable to this agency?”

As he opened his mouth and pointed his finger at her ready to reply, they heard the bell on the front door jingle. Who could that be?

Vote: Who comes through the door?