As always, she did all her best thinking in the bath. When she finally emerged from the steamy room, she was delighted to find her three best friends sitting in her bedroom waiting for her.

Talking to the girls instantly made her feel better. They chatted about Arthur – each giving Lola their condolences – and the impending trip to America. Lola knew they were really excited, but understood they were playing it down because of the present circumstances, and the fact that Lola would be left behind. None of the girls mentioned the dream, or how Lola had been acting the weekend Arthur died.

Although it had only happened a few days ago, to Lola it felt like months instead of days. Finally, it was time for Ruby, Clara and Orla to go, their flight was leaving in a few hours. They all said their goodbyes as Lola walked them to the front door.

‘Oh, here, I nearly forgot,’ said Ruby, taking Lola’s hand before dropping a metal object into it. ‘I thought you might make use of her over the summer.’

Ruby smiled as she turned to leave. Looking down, Lola realised that Ruby had given her the keys to her car.

‘No! Ruby, not your car!’ exclaimed Lola in disbelief.

‘She loves the summer, Lo! I can’t have her locked away in a garage for three months. She’d never forgive me!’

Embracing Ruby, Lola thought she was going to cry again.

‘Thanks, Rubes, thank you so much!’

With that the girls were gone. Lola was about to head back to her room when she heard her dad calling. He put his head around the living room door and handed her a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper.

‘This came for you the other day, love.’

Taking the package, Lola wracked her brains to think what it could be. As far as she could remember she hadn’t ordered anything online.

‘When did you say this arrived, Da?’ asked Lola. She could tell that her dad was curious. In fact, she was surprised that he hadn’t opened it already.

‘I think it arrived on Monday, but the stamp date says it was posted last Saturday.’

Looking at the stamp Lola could see that her dad was right. It had been posted on Saturday and, according to the postage mark, it had been sent from Belfast.

‘Thanks, Dad, it’s maybe just something I ordered online.’

Lola returned to her room to open the package in private, intrigued as to what it might be. Lola quickly ripped off the brown paper to find a white box beneath. Opening the cardboard box, Lola lifted out a thick square envelope with a golden wax seal. She recognised the crest immediately. It was an oak tree with the sun radiating from its centre and just beneath the sun lay a crescent moon. Lola recognised it because this symbol appeared on a pane of glass above the door that led to Arthur’s observatory and study.

Breaking the seal, she unfolded the stiff piece of parchment to find a note on the inside in writing she had seen countless times before.

Dearest Lola,

You are cordially invited to attend MY cremation, which will take place at my beloved Lisnagade Fort. Proceedings will begin at 6pm sharp and make sure to dress for the celebration, as I know you will!

I have enclosed two parting gifts. Wear one at ALL times. It will bring you much protection in the challenging times ahead.

The other, gaze upon it with infinite wonder and discover all the power it possesses, contemplate its mystic crystal revelations in your voyage to the mind’s true liberation.

Remember, What Lies Within, Reflects Without.

And I promise ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’.

Love always,

Arthur

Tears streaming from Lola’s eyes dropped onto the letter, as she read and re-read the note. Looking into the box, Lola could see a large object wrapped in white tissue paper. Unwrapping it, she let out a gasp as she examined the criss-crossed pink crystal, each end pointed. Lifting it up, it reminded her of a marionette handle, only instead of a puppet attached to its strings this strange object held five perfect three-dimensional prisms.

Examining it closer, Lola could see that each shape was different. There was a triangle-shaped prism that resembled a pyramid, a cube and another had twelve sides. Taking a closer look at it, Lola could make out lots of miniature pentagons. There was a shape with twenty faces, all making tiny little equilateral triangles. There was an octagon and a hexagon.

Getting up off her bed, Lola pulled back the curtains, permitting the last of the evening sun to enter her room.

Lifting the prism holder up towards the light, each translucent crystal caught the sun, splashing tiny rainbows across the walls of Lola’s bedroom. It was the most intricate and beautiful thing she had ever seen. Although each prism was only about three inches in diameter and height, along with the handle it was quite heavy. Noticing a little silver hook on the top of the handle, Lola stood on her bed and attached it to her curtain pole. Perfect, she thought, as she admired the spectrum of light flashing across her room.

Turning her attention to the box again, Lola rummaged about finally pulling out a small box made of oak. The modest case bore the same symbol as the wax seal on the envelope. Opening it, Lola saw Arthur’s ring. Arthur had always worn this small ring on his little finger. It was a thick gold band, with a square granite stone embedded into it. On the stone there was an intricate Celtic triple spiral. The ring had a long golden chain attached. Lola removed it from the worn box and placed the chain around her neck, stuffing it down her top to conceal it. She sat quietly in her room for over an hour reading and re-reading the note that Arthur had left, trying to figure out what it meant and what had happened. It was all so confusing. Did Arthur know he was going to die? Lola tried to repel the thought. How could he have known? Why would he let someone poison him? He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave her without saying goodbye. Lola remembered the missed phone call. No. No. There had to be another explanation. Without thinking Lola lifted her mobile phone and called Ballyvalley police station. She was re-reading the note Arthur had left her when a voice broke on the line.

‘Hello, this is DCI Campbell, how can I help you?’ The young man’s voice momentarily threw Lola. He didn’t sound much older than her.

‘Oh! Hi. Detective, my name is Lola Paige and I am calling to get an update on the Arthur Delphian case.’ Lola tried to sound as stern and confident as she could. But as she had anticipated, the young detective was reluctant to give her any information.

‘I understand that, Detective, but you need to understand where I’m coming from! Someone very close to me has been murdered, and I think I have a right to some information.’ Lola’s patience was wearing thin.

‘I’m aware of that, strictly speaking,’ hissed Lola. ‘I know I’m not a blood relative, but I am family, let me make that very clear!’

‘Listen, Miss Paige, I understand you’re upset, but my hands are tied here. I’m trying to run a murder investigation.’

‘I’m well aware of that, but I only want to know what the coroner’s findings were.’

‘Okay, okay,’ sighed DCI Campbell as he reluctantly explained. ‘The post-mortem noted that the cause of death was due to a very high volume of coniine in the system, causing a blockage in the neuromuscular junction, which resulted in muscular paralysis of the respiratory muscles. This meant death due to lack of oxygen to the heart and brain.’

Lola fell silent as she tried to unravel what the detective had just said, searching for words that she understood. Giving up, she targeted the one that stood out the most. ‘Coniine, is that some sort of a poison?’

‘No. Not as such, Lola. The coroner said that coniine is a neurotoxin that can be procured from some plants. It can be found in hemlock.’

‘Hemlock, as in Socrates hemlock?’ spluttered Lola, her mind racing ahead. ‘He was put to death after being charged with corrupting the youth of Athens by failing to recognise certain gods and introducing some new ones.’ Lola immediately regretted her outburst as there was a sharp change in the detective’s tone.

‘What did you say about Socrates, Miss Paige?’

‘Nothing,’ bluffed Lola. ‘It was just the hemlock thing. You know, he was put to death, forced to drink hemlock, or as we call it here in Ireland “the Devil’s Porridge”. Why do you ask, Detective?’ There was a short pause on the line, as if he was deciding whether or not to respond to her question. Finally, DCI Campbell answered.

The end of life is to be like God, and the soul following God will be like her. Does this mean anything to you, Miss Paige?’

Lola didn’t like where this was going. As a true journalist she decided to throw his question back at him.

‘What do you mean, Detective?’

‘I mean do those words mean anything to you?’ he repeated dryly.

‘Well, if by that question, you mean do I recognise them, then, the answer is yes, I do. They belong to Socrates, well most of them anyway.’

‘What do you mean most of them?’ asked the detective, growing more impatient.

‘All of them apart from the word “Her”, that wasn’t Socrates’s word. He preferred to think of God as a He. But, I’m guessing you already know that, being a detective and all.’ Lola couldn’t resist the jibe, but taking her sarcasm in good humour, DCI Campbell wasn’t one to be outdone. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘Indeed, Lola. Indeed! I think this is a chat we had best have in person. I have to go out this afternoon, but I will be in touch.’

Unmoved by the subtle threat, Lola thanked him before hanging up the phone. Her stomach churned. There was so much that she wasn’t seeing. Not only was Arthur dead, but he had been killed. Then there was the added confusion of the ring and the note. There was a deep unease within her. In some part of her subconscious – or as Arthur called it, her soul – had she known that this moment had been coming? One thing was for sure, someone had murdered her dearest friend, and she would not rest until she found out who had killed him and why.

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