The Devil's Paradise Read online

  “Yeah, they were,” Jack confirmed.

  They reached the corner, and at first the only thing they noticed was the house’s original coal furnace, disconnected from the building’s vent system long ago. The cast-iron furnace quite large, at first neither one detected the concealed doorway behind it. When they did, they figured it led to another room. Newly laid cinderblocks surrounded the plain wooden door. Just inside the doorway was another light switch, and when Jack flipped the switch, a row of light bulbs suspended by electrical wires illuminated an earthen tunnel. As the tunnel’s path veered slightly north, they couldn’t see its end from where they presently stood.

  “I’ll bet it leads to the alley behind the house,” offered Jack. “It seems to head in that direction, if I’ve got my bearings right.”

  “A decent guess,” agreed Jeremy. “There’s only one way to find out. Come on!”

  He stepped down onto the pathway and headed toward its end.

  “Just be sure to leave the door open, Jackie!”

  ***

  Jack propped the door open with a broken cinderblock and soon followed his brother. The cramped pathway was just wide enough to allow one average-sized person through at a time. Jeremy and Jack’s athletic builds forced them to move sideways along the tunnel’s length to avoid scraping themselves against roots sticking out from the earthen walls. At the tunnel’s end stood a ladder leading to a trapdoor above their heads.

  Jeremy climbed up first, and after he loosened a simple locking device, he pushed the door open. Once he climbed through the doorway, he motioned for Jack to follow him. The tunnel’s light illuminated most everything inside the large wooden storage shed. The shed sat adjacent to the alley behind Dr. Mensch’s property.

  Jeremy closed the trapdoor, dimming the tunnel’s light to a mere trickle. No reason to risk alerting a neighbor to their presence. Along with a faint glow from a nearby streetlight seeping in through the shed’s only window, enough light allowed them to move around safely in the dimness. A straw curtain covered the window, and a standard door next to it led outside to the alley.

  The shed’s wood smelled new, a likely recent addition to Dr. Mensch’s property. The floor consisted of several cement slabs positioned around the trapdoor. A much larger sliding door dominated the wall bordering the alley, and on the wall opposite it sat a long workbench with a row of garden tools hanging neatly above it. The shed was large enough to accommodate a riding lawnmower and a pair of large trash containers, along with a late model Cadillac Escalade.

  After peeking through the building’s window to make sure no one lurked nearby, they moved over to the workbench and truck. The workbench provided them a hammer and a few other tools Jeremy thought might come in handy. As for the Escalade, it was locked and the tinted windows made it impossible to see inside.

  “What do you want to bet Oscar brought those crates into the basement through here?” whispered Jeremy. “I’d hate to picture him doing so without help from somebody, though that’d sure complicate things.”

  “He must’ve had help,” said Jack, starting to feel tired again. “Are you ready to head back?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready,” said Jeremy. “It’s good to know there’s another way in and out of the house, just in case.”

  Jeremy made sure the large main door to the storage shed was securely locked, while Jack checked the smaller door and window. Then they returned to the tunnel, locking the trap door behind them. Once they reached the basement, Jeremy latched the door behind the old furnace. With the premises fully secured, they moved to the corner of the room where Dr. Mensch’s desk waited.

  ***

  The plantation-styled desk sat near a brown leather couch and a mid-size television on a modest wooden stand, and all of it rested upon an expensive-looking Persian rug. The odd arrangement of these items was the only thing so far that reflected on the professor’s normal eccentricity. Apparently, Dr. Mensch spent enough time down here to require these amenities when he needed a break from his work. Unlikely to venture upstairs if a bathroom and a kitchen were present, perhaps it was also the reason a computer system was missing. Knowing how obsessive the professor could be at times, he certainly would’ve drawn suspicion to himself and the eventual discovery of what lay hidden here if he never emerged from the basement.

  The desk’s stately appearance and elegance surprised Jack as well. The antique piece quite large, from a distance he first mistook it for a standup piano. Only when he didn’t see any other aged furniture did he realize it was the desk the professor described from his hospital deathbed. Made from tiger oak with a detailed forest motif carved along its legs and sides, the desk bore embossed German symbols along the crown framing its top. Each lower panel contained three large drawers with smaller drawers above them, and four shelves lined the rear of the desktop.

  A loose array of books and papers covered the desk, and several cardboard boxes next to it overflowed with more of the same. Normally, Dr. Mensch was extremely neat and organized with his studies, unless a sudden brainstorm compelled him to work hurriedly to bring the idea to fruition as soon as possible. It certainly appeared to be the case here, as Jeremy and Jack found scribbled post-it notes all over the desk and on the side of the TV.

  They set out to organize the desk. While doing this, Jack heard Jeremy gasp slightly while he reached down into one of the boxes. A moment later he pulled out a large Tupperware container containing a set of gilded scrolls wrapped in burlap. Excitedly, he urged Jack to clear a space for them on the desktop, where he then removed one of the scrolls from the container and gently unwrapped and unrolled it. The papyrus appeared quite old. Part of the scroll fell apart despite Jeremy’s best efforts to be careful. Wide-eyed, he gingerly studied the scroll’s ancient text.

  “I can’t believe this shit’s sitting down here, Jackie!” he nearly shouted. “If this is what it seems, then I’ll be a fucking monkey’s uncle for sure!”

  He switched on a lamp attached to the right corner of the desk and motioned for Jack to take a closer look at the scroll stretched open on the desk.

  “It’s written in Hebrew, and from what I’ve read already, I’m pretty sure the text here is from the Jewish Talmud. It wouldn’t even matter which book for this thing to be priceless.”

  “How old do you think this is?” asked Jack, just as amazed, his voice quivering.

  “For it to be a genuine ancient papyrus manuscript, we’re probably talking anywhere from 500B.C. to maybe 200 A.D.,” he said. “There are other variables that could make this document older or younger. It sure makes this whole scene down here all the weirder. You’ve got to wonder what the Old Testament has to do with the stuff we’ve already looked at.”

  He turned his attention back to the scroll, but instead of rolling it out further, he carefully rolled it back together again and returned it to its partner in the protective burlap sack before placing the scrolls back inside the Tupperware container.

  “I can’t believe some of the other items in this box are here either,” he said, placing the container back inside the box. He glanced at the other boxes surrounding the desk. “Actually, all of this is starting to look a little familiar, like it’s been taken out of our department’s archives and brought down here by Oscar and God knows who else. I mean, there’s a pair of books in this one box over here that look like they’ve got Aramaic titles on them, and there’s another book in the box next to it that has a title written in Sanskrit. Mixed in with this shit’s some of Oscar’s journals. At least I believe that’s who they belong to, since the writing on their covers appears to be German. That’s another language I don’t know much of, despite his frequent attempts to interest me in learning it.”

  Misty eyed, Jeremy leaned over the desk. Jack figured the close proximity to items belonging to the man they both greatly admired was almost too much for his brother to deal with. He watched him briefly sift through papers and a few stray journals near the desktop’s rear.

 
“It looks like these were written in Spanish or Portuguese,” he whispered. “What a fucking hodge-podge this is.... It’s as if Oscar tried to pull whatever answer he sought from every source he could get his hands on.”

  “I think it’s time to open the desk,” Jack suggested, seeking a diversion after noticing his brother’s increasing sadness. “My hunch is whatever we find inside will clarify everything else.”

  He held out the skeleton key and pointed it toward the keyhole in the desk’s middle drawer.

  “You’re probably right,” Jeremy agreed, sniffling lightly and drawing a worried glance from Jack. “I suppose we can sort through all this other stuff until dawn if we’re not careful, and probably be no closer to the answers we’re seeking, either. Go ahead and open it.”

  Jack placed the key inside the lock and turned it until it clicked over. He opened the drawer and found a bundle of journals and loose papers with a letter attached to the top of it. He pulled out the bundle and set it down on the desktop, removing the letter and holding it out so both he and Jeremy could read it together. Folded over with “To Jack and Jeremy” written on it by the professor’s own hand, after exchanging quizzical looks, Jeremy urged Jack to open the note. He unfolded it near the lamp’s light.

  May 4th

  My dear young friends,

  I’m filled with such extreme feelings as I write this. Both sorrow and elation encompass my entire being, and it is strange to realize that if you are reading this, then the dream prophesies from the lovely Genovene have indeed come to pass. By now, you have noticed the unusual arrangement I’ve left here for your perusal. It is much more than that, however, and you must now complete what I could only begin.

  I hope to speak with you both before my time on earth expires. Should that not be possible, understand that it will take your brilliant young minds to bring about the rebirth of the “Star of Karachi”. If there is enough time, you will find the other notes and journals helpful. Jeremy, you should enjoy some amusement from the Talmud scrolls in the box closest to my desk. But, do not let such things distract you, as you need to work quickly and efficiently. That is why I’ve bundled the most important documents for this project together. Everything you need to know about the ‘Blood Star’ and the importance of its various components is here.

  Let this and your intuitions guide you both. Jeremy, especially listen to Jack’s counsel on this, as Genovene favors him and will send further instructions for you through him. Both of your talents are necessary to complete this project, so work diligently as it needs to be ready very soon.

  I must go now, for my appointment with destiny takes place tonight. Be well and strong, and may we meet again in happiness.

  Your friend,

  Oscar L. Mensch

  “Wow! So, we’ve both been recruited for this, huh?” said Jack

  “Yeah, it sort of looks that way,” agreed Jeremy, grinning smugly. “It’s hard for me to picture Oscar in an alliance with that bitch. She must’ve promised him one hell of a blow job.”

  Jeremy’s smile broadened and he playfully winked at Jack, who tried not to think long on his older brother’s last comment, given his own lurid sexual experience with Genovene nearly eight years ago when completely overmatched as a vulnerable young teenager. Still, it was good to see his brother’s mood lifted.

  “I’m with you on wishing he hadn’t gotten involved with someone like her,” said Jack. “Did he mention any of this to you on the night he died? It sure sounds like he intended to talk to you about it.”

  “No,” said Jeremy, thoughtfully. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to interpret the conversation you said you had with him that night, the stuff you told me about early this morning. You could tell from my reaction that I wasn’t convinced Oscar really told you about his premonitions and Genovene. I didn’t think you completely lied, but I figured you exaggerated the facts in order to get me to come back here. It’s just hard to picture her and him together in any way.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Jack. A slight chill touched his heart as he thought about his last conversation with the living professor. “I might’ve thought the same thing if I’d been standing in your shoes. But, like Oscar said here, time’s wasting. We might as well get started. I’m so tired, man. But, I don’t honestly think we can afford to stop until we fall over from exhaustion. Some terrible shit’s coming—I can feel it!”

  Jeremy shrugged his shoulders, ready to start working.

  “Okay. I suggest we follow Dr. Mensch’s instructions closely for now,” Jack advised. “Let’s start with the journal directly underneath his note to us, if that’s all right with you.”

  “That’s fine with me,” said Jeremy.

  He removed the journal from the bundle, its cover worn and frayed along the edges. As soon as he opened it they leaned in together and began to read, eager to learn what Oscar Mensch wanted from them…what he and Genovene wanted them to do.

  Part II

  The Children of Elohim

  July 28th, 1986

  Dr. William Dandridge

  The Institute of Archaeology and Antiquity

  The University of Birmingham

  Edgbaston

  Birmingham

  B15 2TT

  United Kingdom

  Dear William,

  It is with deep regret that I am not able to speak with you in person, and I pray you will forgive me for this. The events of the past few months have forced me to reconsider many things, among them my professorship at this beloved institution. I feel it is better to leave now, rather than wait for the inevitable expulsion that will surely come once certain events are brought to light. Not to mention the most recent threats on my life should I linger here, which I must take seriously after what happened to my Julia and Alexander.

  William, I have greatly admired your integrity, honesty, and true friendship to me during the past eleven years. As our department chairman I have flourished under you, and I appreciate your steadfast support of the controversial projects I have pursued from time to time more than you may know. That is why I have sent this last journal of mine to you, written more as a letter than a collection of notes. Surely, it will stand out sharply to my other journals in your possession, such as those from the last dig you accompanied me on, in northern Africa four years ago.

  There are several reasons for me doing this, and closing this chapter of my life is only one of them. More importantly, I am hopeful that after you read the contents to follow, which cover much of the past nineteen years, you will make them part of the Institution of Archaeology and Antiquity research library. Certainly, much of what you will learn here needs to be kept on file in the unlikely event the lost items detailed shortly miraculously resurface. I am confident you will agree with my appraisal of their importance once you finish reading this, my final journal as your colleague.

  One other thing, my dear friend: While reading what is written here, please keep a completely open mind for as long as you can stand it. It is the story of the driving force that spawned much of my research since I began my doctoral dissertation at Oxford back in 1964.

  As you know, the subject of my dissertation was the exploits of a lesser-known Portuguese nineteenth century explorer/archeologist named Ricardo De Gallies. A former Jesuit, he was obsessed with proving the validity and accuracy of the books of the Bible’s New Testament. It was not enough for him that many Vatican scholars had done this repeatedly throughout the centuries since Jesus Christ’s purported death and resurrection some eighteen hundred years beforehand.

  De Gallies’ passion for this validation brought him to the Holy Land itself, where he spent nearly a decade exploring ancient ruins around Jerusalem and throughout Galilee. In a group of small caves near the Sea of Galilee, De Gallies discovered five jars that contained papyri scrolls. Although he lived too early to enjoy the benefits of carbon dating, his keen observations gained from the aforementioned ruins made him believe the scrolls were at least as old as
the time of Christ, and perhaps even older. Eagerly, he set out to translate the scrolls in hopes they would shed valuable light on his quest for the truth about the New Testament. Imagine his shock when the information contained in the scrolls neither validated nor disputed these books of the Bible; however, the information did seem to strongly contend with the older books of the Talmud.

  According to De Gallies’ notes and journals that I had the privilege to personally examine while I attended Oxford, each scroll described various legends and aspects of a large ancient shrine created by the “Children of Elohim.” He claimed this phrase was contained in each of the scrolls and written in both Hebrew and Aramaic. At first, he mistook this description to mean the “Children of Israel”. As he moved deeper into his translations, though, he soon found that the ‘children’ described in the scrolls were nothing of the sort.

  The “Children of Elohim”, according to Ricardo De Gallies, were deities, divine in their own right as the direct spawn of Elohim, the Lord of the Universe. Eight of these offspring were identified in the scrolls, and while most of their names were unfamiliar to De Gallies, the names of Jehovah and Mithra were not. It especially troubled him that the name of Jehovah would be blasphemed horribly by mentioning his essence in the same breath, and on the same level of authority, with an entity as reviling as Mithra. “Better to be linked with Beelzebub or Lucifer himself,” I recall he wrote in one of his later journals.