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| [[January 24, 1965 - January 30, 1965]] | | [[January 24, 1965 - January 30, 1965]] |
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| ==<span style="color:#8A0829">Sunday, January 17th,1965</span>==
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| I rose early this morning, and I could swear I saw Quinn. I was just arriving at the main house, and I caught a glimpse of the sole of a shoe as someone went around the corner. It was definitely a man's shoe, and not any I had seen before. I rushed to catch up, but by the time I looked around the corner, he was gone. Maybe there is a way to get Elaine to snap a photo of this guy, but we might have to trick him out into the open to do that.
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| Kuranes is a quick study. His posture is already very good, and he picked up on proper inhalation and exhalation fast. I think he may have studied this before, perhaps in the context of meditation. Conscious breath control differs from traditional meditation in the way the mind is focused. Meditation starts by contemplating the breath, its regularity and immediacy. It's presence in the moment. But, as soon as the meditator is relaxed, her focus turns inward, to her mind. She goes on a journey of sorts. A "conscious breather" as it is called in Da mo (well, the translation isn't perfect) does not wander from the act of breathing. It is ironic in that it is a great effort in relaxation and recuperation. It seems paradoxical at first, but with practice I have learned a great deal. I just have to remain vigilant that I do not stray into the realm of meditation; that is the primary challenge, and impressing this upon Kuranes was today's primary instruction. He may be able to do both at the same time, though. He has demonstrated an aptitude for things like that, for dividing his focus without diminishing his efforts. I have heard of ancient masters who could do the same, but Kuranes would be the first person I have met who can simultaneously breath consciously and meditate through an entire cycle of each.
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| I perused my first copy of <i>Sing Tao Daily</i> today. So much of it was focused on the impending New Year celebrations. The newspaper was rife with recipes for traditional dishes and information about events around Los Angeles. I'm sure the porridge will be flowing any day now! The funniest part was the discussion of what numerical year this Year of the Snake will be. It's an amusing reminder that China can hardly be considered one cultural entity when you consider that people can't even agree on what year it is. According to my own family's tradition, the first year was in the western year of 2637 B.C.E., but you can probably get a different answer for when the calendar began in each province of China. I can think of a way to discover the truth, but my skills at temporal mana infusion are not up to the challenge yet.
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| ==<span style="color:#8A0829">Monday, January 18th,1965</span>==
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| I ran into Genda for the first time in a while. He told me he had been out on a movie shoot. With his size and charisma, maybe he has a shot at making it in the film business. He's definitely out of the ordinary. He, Elaine, and Kuranes were tasked by Mrs. Carter to look into some items that had been part of some man's estate, that had been auctioned off. It sounded interesting, but I had more pressing matters to attend today. Namely, getting further along in my studies.
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| I did some research on Sayed and The Book of The Gates in the occult archives. I get the impression from reading about it that the book I have is definitely the original, but it seems to be missing pages. Perhaps the part that is missing is just obscured somehow, but there are definitely sections discussed in the reference material that don't appear in the book itself. It's mildly alarming to discover this, but it doesn't change what I need to do right now. I need to press on with acquiring the tools essential to understanding the book. This meant more study of Middle Persian (I now know the book is really called Kitab al-Babi), and a several hour review of my notes from the sessions with Mr. Tophet.
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| [[File:StahlHouse.jpg|thumb|200px|left|The Stahl House]]I finished the day by cycling up Cahuenga to Mullholland, back down Laurel Canyon, and up the hill to the Stahl House, to see the beautiful view of the city there. I found a secluded spot nearby, ran through a few White Crane transitions, then headed back home. It was an exhausting day; I think I will sleep well tonight.
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| ==<span style="color:#8A0829">Tuesday, January 19th,1965</span>==
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| [[File:DimMakAd.jpg|thumb|right|220px|A newspaper ad for Dim Mak training]]I read today's <i>Sing Tao Daily</i> over a breakfast of vegetable congee. I made a huge pot and left most of it in a container outside Genda's door. I hope he enjoys it. It seems that Bruce Lee's demonstration at last year's Long Beach International Karate Championships and rise to celebrity in general have created a large number of mimics, if the advertisements in <i>Sing Tao Daily</i> are any indication. Most of these are surely charlatans, but some may be real. I find it discouraging that so many of the advertisements focus on claims of being masters of Dim Mak; kung-fu is about the breath of life, not the touch of death. I feel that these so-called sifu who wish to capitalize on the sensationalism surrounding kung-fu by offering to teach such things do a disservice to the history of the art. Bruce Lee is often decried for teaching kung-fu to caucasians, but surely teaching white people in a responsible way is better than what these men are promoting in Chinese newspapers. My ancestors in China, if they heard of this sort of practice, would have traveled to the schools and challenged the masters. It was their way of discrediting charlatans and stopping the real masters from spreading dangerous techniques to hotheaded youth. With the rise of the Tongs and Triads and the violence they bring, these things are particularly deadly now. Some of these teachers recruit young people with a taste for violence for those organizations.
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| After breakfast, I cloistered myself in the library for more study. I practiced making some Persian calligraphy. I think it helps me remember, the way they say both singing and speaking can make you remember the same phrase in two different ways. I believe calligraphy does the same when it comes to learning a written script. I know it works that way for Chinese. It's not easy to memorize so many characters just by writing them down. You truly learn them when you understand the art inherent in the strokes, and only focused calligraphy can teach you that. At least, that's the best way I have found. I'm thankful to Wei for all of the countless hours he let me spend creating signs for him that could have been done in a matter of minutes.
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| Things have been quiet around the Alden House with the rest of the New Prometheans out on assignment. The quiet has let me get a lot of work done.
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| ==<span style="color:#8A0829">Wednesday, January 20th,1965</span>==
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| My foray into Persian calligraphy has led me to conclude that I do not have the appropriate tools for the trade. I can use my Chinese brushes and pens, but I guessed that there were better options. I took a quick bicycle ride down to an art supply store on Sunset Boulevard. The guy behind the counter there was not the greatest help, but I browsed the aisles and found what I was looking for. As I was paying at the register, I heard loud rumbling noises outside on the street. I looked out the window and saw what must have been twenty burly men on motorcycles ride by. I caught a glimpse of their patches as they cruised by, and I'm sure I saw the death's head of the Hells Angels. My bicycle was on the sidewalk out front, but I still went out the back door, despite the cashier's protests. I waited in the alley until the rumbling subsided, rushed to my bicycle, and rode off toward Hollywood Boulevard. I don't know if the chapters don't here in Southern California know about me, but I'm not taking any chances. I almost got shot the last time I ran across them. While I can protect myself against bullets, given enough time, twenty armed guys on motorcycles is not something I want to deal with, not now, and especially now while I'm carrying something as valuable as the Kitab al-Babi around.
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| I got back to the house around noon and spent the afternoon studying. There is something odd about The Book of The Gates, now that I examine the lettering more closely. It almost looks to have been penned by two different hands, though the differences are so subtle, that it could just represent different periods in the same man's life. Most people retain the same strokes and stylistic leanings throughout their lives, but some people like to switch things up. In fact, I feel that learning about Persian calligraphy is somehow going to influence the way I do Chinese calligraphy. It is unavoidable that the things you learn in one area creep into everything you do, from kung-fu, to magic, to art. It is all interconnected. Sayed's life was a tremendous journey, so it would not surprise me if the things he learned guided his hand right down to stylistic lettering choices but, still, it <i>is</i> interesting that some of the lettering could have been done by a copycat.
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| [[File:ZoroastrianCalligraphy.jpg|center|Zoroastrian Calligraphy]]
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Thursday, January 21th, 1965</span>==
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| I met with the rest of New Prometheans at breakfast with Mrs. Carter today. I got an update about their recent activities, tracking down items from the estate of Benton Tuttle. The auction took place several months ago, and the items of interest had ended up scattered. The most noteworthy items were a golden raccoon that had been acquired by a member of an organized crime outfit at the behest of "The Scarlet Woman," a Polynesian mask that was passed down to one of Tuttle's relatives, a Hollywood makeup artist named Bill Tuttle, a potentially dangerous occult book that ended up at Bixby's Books in Hollywood, a curious book said to grant magical instruction to those not naturally endowed with the gifts of magecraft, and a collection of maps that were purchased for a store downtown called Anaximander's Maps.
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| We decided that the most important item to investigate first was the Red Book, the occult text that had wound up at Bixby's Books. There is a variety of lore surrounding the Red Book. First, is that there are actually three of [[The Red Books]]. Second, the books are demonological in nature. They are said to possess instructions for bringing forth particularly odious demons, as opposed to merely average demons. I hope that these books are not, in fact, pieces of the Grand Grimoire, the "Red Dragon." The Grand Grimoire is said to grant the ability to summon Lucifuge Rofocale himself. Indeed, that would be a particularly odious and immensely dangerous demon to summon. Current occult lore suggests that these volumes are also known as The Books of Pain and are unrelated to the Grand Grimoire, having been printed this century in Central America, not dating back to medieval times or earlier. Whatever the case, a Red Book is clearly a dangerous item, and best sequestered in the Foundation's vaults, or maybe even sent to Tibet to be kept with the forbidden texts.
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| We arrived at the bookstore in the midmorning. The proprietor was, well, what one would expect from a bookshop owner in Los Angeles. He was introverted and awkward, but nice enough. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into when he purchased the Red Book. He was not a mage, nor did he seem particularly knowledgeable about the occult. In fact, the book had been stolen from him right after he bought it. He said he never even got a chance to unpack it and look at it. It was taken from his wall safe in the middle of the night. He had no idea who took it, or why. We asked to examine the safe, and I checked it for any signs of magic. In fact, there was an envelope that glowed brightly and chaotically, not unlike the aura of Kitab al-Babi. I asked to have a closer look, and he agreed. What lay within was better than I could have hoped. It was a few missing pages from the book! Obviously, we could not leave them there. So, we negotiated with him. It turns out that Jansen had given him the pages months prior to have them appraised. We let him know that Jansen was deceased, as was his next of kin, and that, in fact, we had been contracted by the insurance agency responsible for overseeing the estate. We gave him our names and he gave us the pages.
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| We were not so lucky in the rest of our efforts. Anaximander's Maps turned out to be a curious place, utterly devoid of magic, with an odd, yet knowing proprietor. He knew we were after occult objects, but he would not give us any information, except to say the two "interesting" maps from the collection had been purchased. Genda was able to use his spiritual powers to determine a date of sale, and that the items sold were a map of Hyboria, and a map of the Dreamlands. We formulated a plan to return to both the bookshop and the map store late at night to use magic to see who had been there on the dates in question and acquired the items. Keaton seemed extremely interested in the electromagnetic radiation in the map shop, and asked repeatedly and in several different ways, if he could bring some scientific equipment to study it. Anaximander was not interested in allowing that, and was as uninformative as possible on the matter.[[File:AnaximanderMap.gif|300px|thumb|left|Anaximander's map of the world. Where is China?]]
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| With about half of the day left, we elected to make the trip to San Diego to track down Arther Godel, who had purchased the primer that allegedly allowed the uninitiated to make use of magic. I'm skeptical of this book though, knowing what we now do about how the natural order of mana is currently out of balance, if that balance could be restored, such a book - if it were legitimate - could be of considerable use. Through a series of mishaps with a public telephone, we finally learned that Arthur Godel was some sort of derelict living near the beach in the Golden Sands Motel. We concocted a plan to get his room number from the front desk. I posed as a massage therapist and made use of Kuranes's acting skills. The clerk bought it and gave me the room number. We staked the room out and waited for him to return. Genda and Kuranes were able to discern a few details about the room while we waited, namely that it was a bit of a mess and that Godel was keeping cash there.
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| Godel finally returned, and I went and knocked on the door. Genda waited around the side, near a window, in case he tried to make a getaway. Godel was under some pressure from debt collectors, and we did not want to spook him. Hence only I went, as few men are intimidated by a small Chinese woman, and no debt collector would send someone who looks like me. He was paranoid at first, but ultimately let me in. He informed me that he had been hired to purchase the book by a man named Frank. He acquired the book then sold it so some tycoon who lived in a rural estate near the Mexican border. It was too late in the day to pursue this lead and be able to make it back in time to investigate the bookshop and map store, so we headed back to Los Angeles.
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| Our investigation into the identity of the thief was successful. We entered the shop unnoticed and without setting off any alarms. Kuranes was able to summon forth images of the past that let us view who had opened the safe. It was a pale, utterly bald man, who did not even have eyebrows. He was tall, perhaps as much as six feet. He moved to the safe, entered the combination on the dial, took the Red Book, closed the safe, then left. It's lucky that he did not take the pages from the Kitab al-Babi, but he was obviously after the Red Book. We tried a similar approach at Anaximander's. To our surprise, he was there at 3:00 in the morning. What kind of strange man is he? We performed the ritual outside, but, perhaps we were too nervous about trying to go quickly and not be seen by pedestrians or passengers on streetcars, that we failed to invoke the spell. It was not very long before Anaximander came out, opened the door, and started making comments about our persistence. Kuranes at last completed the spell, but all that was visible was an image of Anaximander himself, frozen in some sort of loop. The image looked left, then right, then repeated. Anaximander made some smug remark about getting back to him when we figured it out. It was late, and I was at my wit's end. I shook my fist at him and told him he needed therapy. What sort of mage hides in a shop with no mana all day and all night? What sort of ethical man would hide the identities of people who might be dangerous?
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| We went back to the Alden House. Kuranes had cast a spell to grant him and myself wakefulness, so I will stay up all night and get ready to help Genda tomorrow. He has an audition with a movie producer, Jim Stone, who is working with Bill Tuttle. I'm going to pose at Genda's personal assistant so that I can inspect the area for magic.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Friday, January 22nd, 1965</span>==
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| Elaine drove Genda and me to the studious in the new Mercedes sedan the Foundation is letting us use. Nice wheels. We arrived in the studio in the late morning, and waited for Stone and Tuttle to show up. They arrived within an hour. The meeting went well for Genda. He got the part without even trying. Stone was perhaps even more interested in me. He came onto me a few times during the meeting, and even told me to get in touch with him if "I wanted a job" in movies. Well, I don't want a job! There was no magic in stone's office, nor did we find any in Tuttle's workshop on the premises. We followed him home, and there we did find the mask. It was in his garage, or whatever it was he had converted his garage into. We considered taking it then and there, but instead we went back to the Alden House.
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| We met with Mrs. Carter to discuss our findings. First, she was very unsettled by our description of the man who stole the Red Book. The color drained from her face as we told her, and she informed us that it was none other than Xavier Hellestromme. She contended this was impossible, that he had vanished decades ago. But, knowing what I now do about gates and the nature of metaphysical reality, I can attest that it is very much possible. If this is true, we are doubly lucky that he did not take the pages of Kitab al-Babi that were there! Getting those from him would be a challenge. Though that does make me nervous that he is trying to outmaneuver us. If he is as wily as the stories say, he could have left those as bait, or as a way to track us down to the rest of the book. Kitab al-Babi would do what it can to prevent someone such as Hellestromme from coming into possession of it, I think, but if he could track us, he could track it indirectly. I am now torn about whether I should consult with Quinn about this matter. I'll have to think it over. For now, I will just do what I am able to look for any undesirable magics connected with these newfound pages.
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| Keaton had been researching who the tycoon near the border could be, and had narrowed it down to three possibilities. Mrs. Carter was familiar with the names, and even knew one of the people personally, one Agnes Wallace. She said that Mrs. Wallace (the widow of an oil tycoon) does have a passing interest in the occult, maybe a dabbler of sorts. If the primer were effective, that would be precisely the sort of person who could benefit from it the most. The other possibility was a Mr. Daniel Van Landingham, who Mrs. Carter indicated came from old money, probably a wealthy eccentric of sorts. Mrs. Carter seemed to believe that Mrs. Wallace was a decent sort, but the account that Arthur Godel (for whatever it is worth) gave us of the purchaser seemed far more sinister. Even to a Hellestromme level of sinisterness. I have not ruled out that both purchases are somehow connected. We will find out.
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| We elected to leave the Polynesian mask in the hands of Bill Tuttle for now. Mrs. Carter said the Foundation will reach out to him to acquire it, but we all agreed that if Hellestromme wanted the mask, he would have already taken it. That's logical to conclude, though Hellestromme's game could have many steps, leaving the mask with Tuttle being one of them. We will not know until we learn more.
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| Our next order of business will be tracking down the Scarlet Woman. Mrs. Carter identified her as Marjorie Cameron, a high-ranking member in a magical order. Her title of Scarlet Woman is like an official rank within that order. Mrs. Carter informed us that Ms. Cameron lives at a hotel called The Ambassador and tries to enjoy a posh, leisurely lifestyle. It is no surprise she would want a golden raccoon that allegedly has the power to instill added value onto jewels, letting the possessor generate wealth.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Saturday, January 23nd, 1965</span>==
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| [[File:AmbassadorHotel2.jpg|thumb|330px|right|The Ambassador Hotel]]Today was an interesting day. We started by doing a little research into [[Marjorie Cameron]], the Scarlet Woman, and then went to go snoop around the [[Ambassador Hotel]] to learn more about her. Lunch at the hotel was nice, though Genda should have the final say on that matter. I think he sample at least one of everything he could eat from the menu, including several desserts and more coffee than seemed appropriate. His enthusiastic enjoyment of the meal was ideal, though, because before we were finished, Marjorie and her entourage arrived. We first noticed what seemed to be guards appear at the restaurant's entrance from the lobby. They were there just keeping an eye on the place, then several men in suits and Marjorie came to dine. We kept tabs on them during their meal and afterwards. Kuranes used his creature to get more information, and Genda communicated with spirits to learn more. Marjorie had a peculiar magical aura. Not like a mage, but not quite like a being of pure magic. It seemed to share similarities with both, as though she exists at the juxtaposition of being a mage and a magical being.
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| Our cover was almost blown when Elaine was noticed by some of her bodyguards. Fortunately, they thought she was paparazzi, and did not figure out who we really were. I took over as the spotter in the lobby after Elaine had to leave. The hours crawled by slowly, so I read the newspaper while I waited. I noted that for the second time in two months and actor had taken a suicidal leap off of the roof of a building in Los Angeles; I also saw that a man the others had been in contact with about the Tuttle Auction had passed of unknown causes out in Malibu. After a while, Marjorie and two guards emerged from her room and went to the valet and to get their vehicle. I moved close to the door and got a good look and made note of the license plate. They left, heading west on Wilshire. I went back to the parking lot to join the others in the Mercedes. Genda tried to catch up to them, but was unsuccessful. So, instead, we turned to the arcane and used a spell of seeking to find their car. It was somewhere in Santa Monica. When we got closer, I was able to cast a spell of tracing to locate its exact position.
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| We found it parked near a building with art studios. This was unsurprising, as Marjorie is a known dabbler in art. Genda communicated with the spirits to find where she was in the building. Kuranes and I found a back entrance, out of view of her bodyguards, and made our way up to her studio. We knocked, were let in, and had what I consider to be a very frank talk. We told her we were looking for the Red Book. We asked her about the auction, but she seemed fairly apathetic. We asked if there was anyone she could put us into touch with about the book. She told us to meet us later that night at the [[Blue Lotus]] downtown, at 9:00.
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| I made preparations for the event. I hadn't gotten my hair done in a while so I took this opportunity to do so. I had Genda help me select an appropriate dress. Elaine and Genda also came to the Blue Lotus, but in a separate vehicle, and they did not interact with us. When we arrived we told the hostess who we were meeting, and she escorted us to Marjorie's table, in a semi-private room off of the main room. It was immediately apparent to me as we made our way to the Marjorie that the band on stage was phenomenal. I took a closer look, and I could see that it was Miles Davis! I almost abandoned our mission right then and there to go watch, but I decided to wait. I took an even closer look and noticed that Miles had a magical aura. I wasn't surprised in the least.
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| [[File:BlueLotusCocktail.jpg|thumb|left|200px|The infamous Blue Lotus Cocktail]]We met with Marjorie and her entourage. It was actually "Mr. Licata's party," and Nick Licata was there. The meeting was somewhat fruitful, as Mr. Licata indicated that he was in the business of trading in occult items. The only problem was that he had no particular interest in books. Nor did he seem to know anyone with such interests. After a brief introduction and conversation about acquiring occult items, Marjorie had Nick and his men excuse themselves. Marjorie seemed incredibly apathetic to our mission. It dawned on her who we were when we mentioned that we wanted to sequester the Red Book, to keep it out of anyone's hands who might put it to nefarious use. She made a few comments about Mrs. Carter, generally unflattering, and indicated that she would not help us very much if Mrs. Carter did not pay up. She said Mrs. Carter would know the precise payment details. When we explained our concerns that the book had been acquired by Xavier Hellestromme, she still remained largely apathetic, but also dismissive, indicating that it was impossible that Hellestromme was alive on our plane of existence. She said it was more likely that a group known as the Red Hand had sent someone in posing as Hellestromme to acquire the item. The Red Hand is a covert organization of thieves and assassins, specializing in the theft of magical items and the assassination of mages. They themselves employ mages.
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| I am skeptical about this Red Hand. Marjorie said she has a contact who can put us in touch with them, but only if we are serious about wanting to hire them. Not only do I not want to hire them, but I am unconvinced that Marjorie is right about them. Maybe it was them, but maybe not. What she doesn't know is about the incident with Hellestromme's radio on New Years Eve. Some entity was released from some form of imprisonment in that event. While it is true that the theft of the Red Book from Bixby's Books happened prior to the incident with the radio, I can't help but feel that they are somehow connected.
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| But, enough about all of this cloak-and-dagger business. The most important event of the evening was after our meeting with Marjorie. I met Miles Davis! When the band took a break, I went backstage and found them and their friends enjoying some reefer. I joined in, but didn't see Miles. He was in his dressing room, relaxing. I went back and found him, and he was definitely very... relaxed. He had a half-smoked joint that we finished together. We spoke briefly about music and jazz. He went in and out of a haze, but was clearly enjoying himself. I noticed that not only was his aura magical, but so was his horn's. I didn't get a chance to take a closer look, but there was something special about it. I'm not even going to mention that one to Mrs. Carter or the Promethean Foundation. I think it is in the right hands. The real danger would be sequestering it away from an arist like Miles. When it was time to go back on stage, I "handed" Miles his horn and he told me I reminded him of his grandmother. I'm pretty sure that's a compliment. Even better, we got seats right upfront for the rest of the night, and Miles even said, "this next one is for my friend Lisa." What an amazing evening at the Blue Lotus. What could be better?
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| The rest of the night was less exciting. We were in Malibu, then the Hollywood Hills. We investigated the death of a private investigator somehow affiliated with the Tuttle Estate auction, then went to a huge mansion in the hills where we presumed a party was going on. It turned out the party was over, and what was happening when we arrived was a Thelemic initiation ritual for three people in Marjorie's coven. Genda was able to communicate with spirits that told us what was happening, but we were not permitted to enter the premises. Some of Marjorie's thugs stopped us at the door and would not let us in. When we tried to convince them otherwise, they tried to get rough (unsuccessfully, I might add).
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| We made it back to the Alden House late. I'm not sure where this leaves us, but I feel that Marjorie is going to be difficult. Her apathy toward what we're trying to accomplish is a hurdle that can only be overcome through bribery, or maybe personal favors.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Sunday, January 24nd, 1965</span>==
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| We met with Mrs. Carter for breakfast to discuss our findings from yesterday. It's clear she is not a great fan of Marjorie anymore than Marjorie is of her. She indicated that the price to get Marjorie's help would be enormous, such as the power stone that powers the mana-stat here at the Alden Compound. An artifact of that magnitude is priceless. It is integral to the work we do, so obviously it's not something we can exchange for information about the Red Book. Kuranes was very direct and accusatory in asking about the Red Hand and whether Mrs. Carter had withheld information from us. I suppose it's best to get all of that out in the open, but I think it's obvious that Mrs. Carter is in many ways in over her head. She is not a mage and, while she does have some experience with mages and weird elements, she is not exactly an expert on magic or well-connected to every magical group out there. She knows a few powerful people like Mr. Tophet, but she cannot be expected to know about every magical group that comes and goes over the years.
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| Mrs. Carter did seem disturbed by an aside that Kuranes and Marjorie had during our meeting last night. Marjorie indicated that she had successfully created a magical child with Jack Parsons some years ago. Mrs. Carter takes that to mean that she has created some sort of astral entity that gives her a special sort of domain over our universe. I don't know about any of that. I will be interested to investigate that more after I have learned more on the nuances of space, time, dimensions, and how our reality is truly ordered. Despite her reservations about Marjorie, she does think that she could be a useful contact. Maybe, but her apathy seems to be a difficult barrier, especially when the only things that motivate her carry such a high price.
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| It felt like our options were getting narrower, and that we're running out of time to track this book down before something bad happens. We decided we will investigate the suicides starting tomorrow. If that doesn't pan out, we may need to do some traveling to find more good leads, or we may need to put the matter of the Red Book aside to look into other items of interest. We'll see how it turns out.
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| After our meeting, I went back to my guesthouse, smoked a joint, and listened to my <i>Kind of Blue</i> album. I spent most of the rest of the day studying Persian script in the library. I am slowly but surely becoming competent at this. It's going to take a while, but at least I can start to feel the progress I'm making. Kitab al-Babi is always in the back of my mind. I know that much of my other activities are distractions from it, but I will come to understand it in due time.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Monday, January 25th, 1965</span>==
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| I had strange dreams again last night. I had gone to sleep exhausted and felt like I was floating as soon as I hit the bed. I slipped into sleep almost instantly, my arrival into the realm of dreams heralded by a trumpet playing above a low, electric hum. With each note, a blue spark flashed before me. Each spark illuminated a small portion of what appeared to be a skeleton hovering in front of a vertical wall of gray sand. But, it was no human skeleton. It had two ribcages. Its spine diverged into two columns below its neck then converged again at the waist. It appeared to have three clawed thumbs on each hand, and three toes on each of its cylindrical feet. At one point a spark flashed right in front of an eye socket, but it did not fade like the others. It persisted. At once I heard a chant emerge from the electric hum underlying the music. The chanting crescendoed, deep and throaty like songs from the Mongols of the plains. Seconds later, the other eye socket was illuminated by a spark. The blue glow persisted in both sockets, and the frequency of the chanting lowered, deepening into a horrifying undulation of alien sounds. The eyes shifted color, turning green, then yellow, then orange, then at last red. They stared into my mind, unraveling my thoughts and amplifying the terror brought on by the alien madrigal.
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| I awoke in a sweat, my sheets torn from their corners. I could see the morning light starting to creep in through the window shades. I was happy to be awake. I don't understand the recent dreams. They are not frequent, and they don't seem to interrupt my sleep the way some people's nightmares do, but I have not had strange dreams like this since I left China as a child. Why have they come again?
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| Today was another long day. We met for breakfast and decided that we would go out to investigate the suicides. Just prior to breakfast I set up some magical beacons to assist with magical travel through space-time. The beacons would let me more easily transport home if need be. I think I will set these up on a regular basis. They will be useful for getting home safely from almost anyplace and anytime.
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| Our first stop was at the newspaper to speak with the crime reporter who had written the story about the recent suicide at the Roosevelt Hotel. It seemed like a good idea when we left the house, but by the time we arrived, it seemed like a bad idea. I though that we could circumvent this by making use of magic. But, for some bizarre reason, I had agreed to this idea. Kuranes and Elaine spoke with the reporter. I think there was something off about her. I can't put my finger on it, but I just didn't like her very much. They found out that the suicide victim, Ms. Johansen, had been a bit of a loner, but really didn't get much great information. We were at least able to find out the name of the detective who worked the case, and managed to track him down to the LAPD central office. Detective LaPierre. We called ahead and went to wait for him to arrive for lunch at the station. He was more helpful than the reporter. He told us that Ms. Johansen had been staying in room 404 at the Roosevelt. Prior to her suicide in the morning, there had been reports of shouting coming from her room at about 3:00 a.m. It was not clear from the report if she was arguing, but apparently no other shouting voices were heard, just hers. I was suspicious about that.
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| [[File:roosevelt.jpg|thumb|right|350px|The Roosevelt Hotel]]Kuranes and Elaine went to investigate the room, and I went to the roof. There were no useful clues on the roof. Kuranes and Elaine ran into someone in the room, apparently the director of the theater company Ms. Johansen was in, and had a brief conversation with him. He confirmed that Ms. Johansen was a loner, and he let them look through her affects that he was packing up. There were no artifacts of particular interest. We next went to examine the alley below where the body fell, to see if there were any other clues, or if someone had come by the body and taken something. We did see that when she fell, multicolored glass shards flew out upon impact. She was apparently carrying a glass. I thought it made sense that she would have been drunk when she died.
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| Kuranes and Elaine went back to the room, and I went to the lobby. I spoke to one of the people there, but he knew nothing about Ms. Johansen. In fact, he didn't even know there had been a suicide. He was a bit put off to learn about it and started giving the manager at the front desk a hard time. I took the opportunity to read a little of Kitab al-Babi. My Persian is getting better, but I still can't really tell what the text says. I have managed to piece together a passage here and there, but it still involves a lot of laborious translation. I am not thinking in Persian yet. They arrived back from the room with an ashtray that matched the glass Ms. Johansen had been carrying when she jumped. It was rather ugly. When we got back to Elaine's van, Kuranes just tossed it in amidst her things. Of all the things to take... why that ugly thing? It did not have a magical aura, as far as I could tell.
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| It was getting on into the late afternoon, but we decided to followup on our only other lead. We went to the apartment building where the previous suicide had happened about a month prior to Ms. Johansen's death. The victim was also an actor, and also jumped from a high building. When we reached the address, I attempted to sense if there were any magical things there. There were not, but I did feel a magical presence coming from a pawn shop across the street. We decided to investigate. The proprietor was a black man of Genda-like proportions, a loud and boisterous guy named Emperor Jones. Did it really say Emperor on his birth certificate? Maybe. I guess I could find that out later. We looked around the shop, and there was a collection of glassware that had the look of the ashtray and the goblet Ms. Johansen had when she plummeted to her death. Besides that, there was mostly just a lot of junk, none of it magical. Whatever was magical was hidden behind the counter somewhere. Emperor Jones was a bit hostile to us when he realized we weren't normal customers (or whatever passes for normal at a Pawn and Loan on Sunset Boulevard). He accused us first of being con artists, saying that he himself was a con artist and that we would therefore not be able to con him, and then he accused us of using voodoo. I impressed upon him that Chinese people did not use voodoo, but then he just accused me of using whatever voodoo it is that Chinese people do. I tried to get back to where I sensed the magic, but he halted me and then told me to leave. Kuranes came out a few minutes later.
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| I was ready to stake the place out then and there. Elaine and Kuranes wanted to go investigate the scene at the apartment building, but I felt like whatever magic was in there was what we were after. What else could it be? But, we went ahead up to the roof anyway. We met the woman in the penthouse apartment who had been throwing a rooftop party the night of the suicide. She was a producer, and the lover of the deceased. She indicated that just prior to his death, he had developed a drinking habit and had taken up a fascination with glassware. Ugly glassware. The description matched the piece that Ms. Johansen had when she died. This could not be a coincidence. I felt that someone had used the Red Book to curse glassware and that the glassware was leading to suicides. Though, in hindsight, I must say that this conclusion makes no sense. I don't recall reading anything about the Red Book being used to manufacture such items. It is a book devoted to the necromantic act of demon-summoning, not to the practice of creating cursed objects. These are two very different things, though the results for the victims can be the same.
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| We were all in agreement that the pawnshop had to be staked out, and that we would either snatch the item when Emperor Jones left, or, if he took it, follow him to his destination and get it. I went around back to the alley and the others stayed on the street to watch the front. A couple hours after sunset, Emperor Jones left the shop. He was carrying the item with him in a bag. He got into his car and drove off. I joined the others back at the van and we followed him to an apartment in West Hollywood. I watched him go in and up some stairs, and we saw which lights came on. We saw Emperor Jones in the apartment. He looked outside, then drew the curtains closed. We decided that we had to go get whatever it was he had. We snuck up to the apartment and unlocked the door. Kuranes sent his companion Kielu in to investigate. Evidently, Emperor Jones had gone to the bedroom in the back of the apartment and was engaged in some sort of ritual. We went in to confront him. We snuck into the bedroom, but he was nowhere to be seen... until he leapt from the shadows to grab me! Fortunately, I dodged out of the way just in the nick of time. I think if he had gotten ahold of me, it would have been tough to get free. He was just so big.
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| We sparred briefly. Emperor Jones was surprisingly spry for a man of his stature. He dodged away when I tried to sweep him to the floor, then dodged a volley of electrical bolts that Elaine fired from some pistol-like device she had. He came at me again, but I dodged and countered with a shot to his throat. He staggered slightly. Elaine unleashed more bolts at him. They hit, but didn't seem to slow him down one bit. He tried to rush past Elaine and Kuranes. Somehow, Elaine managed to grab at him and stop him. At that instant, Kuranes overcame him with a mental attack, dazing him where he stood. We quickly searched the room and found that Emperor Jones had a magical golden bowl rimmed with a strange, arcane script. It had been sitting in his desk during the altercation. I bade Kuranes help me with an incantation, then quickly hurled the bowl through the fabric of space to the beacon I had set up at the Alden House. The bowl vanished!
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| When Emperor Jones came to, he did not remember anything. We explained that he had fallen, that we had heard him from outside the door, and came in to check on him. He was friendly when he realized we weren't there to cause him any trouble. He seemed to have no recollection of the bowl or of us, only a vague sense of having seen us before. We told him to get some water and try to relax, that it looked like everything was fine. He said he felt alright, just a little sore.
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| We made it back to the Alden House as fast as we could. The bowl had arrived safely. I used some basic magic to levitate the bowl down to the temple below the house. That was the safest place we could think of to store it. Kuranes stayed to further secure it with a pentagram and conduct some research on it. I felt like we should return to collect all of the glassware we had seen in the pawn shop and at Emperor Jones's apartment that matched the goblet and ashtray associated with the suicides, but Kuranes thought that with the bowl secure, that the glassware was not currently a threat. That was good enough for me. We can deal with collecting all of the individual pieces of glassware later, if need be. It was late and I just wanted to head to sleep as soon as possible.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Tuesday, January 26th, 1965</span>==
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| We met for breakfast this morning and I, for one, felt that our options were narrowing. We discussed the value of contacting David Van Landingham about his purchase of the Primer. We agreed it was best to follow up on that, just in case. Near the end of breakfast Kuranes at last decided to tell us about some dreams he had that he considered "prophetic." Kuranes seems to be something of a dream traveler, so I thought it best not to ignore what he had seen.
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| We discussed and researched the possible meanings of the images he shared with us from his dreams. Much of it unequivocally pointed to a woman living in Glendale who we believed, after some research, to be the daughter of a Miskatonic-educated occultist named Mr. Manton. We decided to get in touch with her and try to arrange a meeting, to perhaps learn more about her father. Kuranes believed this was all worthwhile, as it may pertain to a key somehow associated with the Dreamlands (coincidentally, a map of the Dreamlands was purchased from Anaximander's shop by an unknown party). She agreed to come to the Alden House tomorrow afternoon.
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| We decided to use the rest of the day to follow up on Mr. Van Landingham. We learned that he had an office in Santa Monica, that he was involved in real estate. Genda phoned him and set us a meeting time in the afternoon. I felt fortunate that he had time to see us right away, seeing as how he is a busy millionaire. We made a few preparations then took the Mercedes out to Santa Monica, Genda at the wheel.
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| Mr. Van Landingham was eager to receive us. He seemed enthusiastic about meeting some agents of the Promethean Foundation. We exchanged pleasantries, and Kuranes and I verified that Mr. Van Landingham was, in fact, a mage. He had little skill and no training, but he did have the aura of a minor mage. He seemed mainly like a dabbler, not serious enough about magic to fully commit himself to the practice. It made perfect sense that he would be interested in the Primer, because, in many ways, it represents a shortcut for the dilettante. He confirmed that he had it, but he wanted to keep it for himself, to use it. We determined that there were no other magical artifacts present, and Mr. Van Landigham <i>seemed</i> like a decent enough person, so we decided to let him keep it. We warned him that we weren't the only parties who may take an interest in it, but he wished to keep it nonetheless. I gave him my card and let him know that if he ever got more serious about wanting to learn magic, we might be able to arrange some private instruction for him. Better to have multi-millionaire magies on our side, I say.
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| We got home in the early evening. We talked over our plans. We decided we would have our meeting with Manton's daughter then make a return to the Pasadena Mystery House to see if we could learn anything new, and just to see what OSI had left behind. I spent the rest of the evening studying Persian, and took another glance at Kitab al-Babi.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Wednesday, January 27th, 1965</span>==
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| I spent the morning continuing my studies. Noon came and went, and still we had not heard from the woman Kuranes dreams had pointed us to. Eventually we called her, but she was suspicious of us and not interested in coming by. She said that the types of things we wanted to know would be better uncovered at a library, looking through Miskatonic yearbooks and the like. She did inform us about some of the people she had met at her father's funeral, and indicated that a couple of them had taken possession of any relevant documents and artifacts that her father still had upon his death. In other words, anything that would be useful to us was already taken.
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| Our trip to the Mystery House started off on the complete wrong foot. Genda took us who knows where. I think we may have been in Alhambra at one point, but we eventually found our way to Pasadena. We approached the house carefully, from down the street. We didn't sense anyone surveilling it, and it appeared abandoned, so we let ourselves in. We looked around the premises and discovered, as we expected, yet still to our dismay, that the OSI had taken everything of value. Interestingly enough, the sealed double pentagram chamber was still there. We determined further that some entity was trapped inside, though it seemed largely indifferent to our existence. We were not able to establish any meaningful communication with it, but sensed that it was powerful, and perhaps dangerous by way of this power alone, even if it had no specific malevolent intentions. We considered the option of freeing it and helping it return whence it came, but we ultimately decided that would be too dangerous. We thought it would be wiser to learn more about it first. Mrs. Carter can have the foundation purchase the house, and we'll have plenty of time to ascertain what it is and how to send it away. I think Kitab al-Babi will be very useful for that.
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| After poking around the house, we made a quick stop in Glendale on our way back to the Alden House. We located the residence of Mr. Manton's daughter, and Genda communicated with the spirits to investigate it. We determined she was in possession of a few items that her father had left her, but that she was probably right, that we could find the information contained therein just as easily from publicly available sources. Plus it occurred to us that the foundation had purchased a great deal of materials and information from Miskatonic University. So, we decided to leave her in peace and return home.
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| Our research into Kuranes's dream via Manton and his Miskatonic connections proved at once fruitful and disturbing. He had, in fact, been in an astronomy club at the university with a number of other people who had appeared in Kuranes's dream. Furthermore, a map and poem that Kuranes had seen, in conjunction with what we could glean from the Miskatonic materials pointed directly to the [[Choronzon Club]], a potentially dangerous cult with ties to Xavier Hellestromme, [[Marcus Kane]], and the cosmic entities known as Yog-Sothoth and Shub-Niggurath. What's worse, the stanza from his dream pointed toward the potential involvement of Yog-Sothoth, and perhaps something much worse - an attempt at waking an even more powerful, more dangerous entity. In some ways, this is not a surprise, as Yog-Sothoth may be connected at a very basic level to the fluctuation in mana in our plane of reality.
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| We had no good leads into the Choronzons, and we were not keen on contacting Marjorie Cameron, so I got in touch with Tophet to see if he knew anything. He was disturbed by our findings, but curious as well. He mentioned that he may have further information about the Choronzons, and that he would get back in touch with me about it.
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| [[File:Yog1.jpg|thumb|left|350px| An interpretation of Yog-Sothoth]][[File:Yog2.jpg|thumb|center|280px| An interpretation of Yog-Sothoth]]
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| ==<span style="color:#8A0829">Thursday, January 28th, 1965</span>==
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| After an early training session brushing up on some Five Ancestors Fist form transitions, I had a huge bowl of noodles then spent the rest of the morning studying Persian. The others left to go investigate something or other out of town, but I felt it was best to stay and meet with Tophet, to see if he had any information for us about the Choronzons. I believe my decision was justified, because Tophet brought a wealth of information, including photographs, names, and some descriptions of the key players involved in the L.A. C.C.C.
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| It seems from the information Tophet provided that the C.C.C (which poses as a chess club in Hollywood) is dangerous only by way of their recklessness, and perhaps the ethos of certain members. Most concerning is the man named Graves, who, beyond being a trained magician, is also naturally gifted at teleportation. I have heard of such people before (there are many Chinese folk tales about people with these powers), but I have never met one. Someone with a natural grasp of teleportation, who does not need to rely on the heuristics of incantation, could be formidable and, if nihilistic in his methods, more than a little dangerous. He evidently studied under Tophet at some point, but Tophet had few kind words to say about his character, though he acknowledged that his magical ability was unquestionable.
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| I suppose the others will not be returning today. Tophet left for the airport, and I finished out the day studying more Persian.[[File:CCC.jpg|thumb|right|330px| Caissa Chess Club C.C.C.]]
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Friday, January 29th, 1965</span>==
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| I woke up to some distressing news this morning. The others arrived home sometime in the small hours, and Genda informed me there was an uninvited visitor to the Alden House. Or so the spirits had indicated to him. Genda and I had our breakfast, and he filled me in on their trip out of town. They had encountered some mages who were evidently up to no good. There was a brief skirmish, but one escaped... via teleportation. That instantly made me suspicious that they had encountered Gardner Graves and other C.C.C. members. Shots were fired in the skirmish, but everyone survived. The team managed to bring back a box full of trinkets, which Kuranes was already busily studying in the temple. After breakfast, Genda and I went to the temple so that he could investigate the spiritual aspects of the trinkets, and so that I could show the photograph of the C.C.C. members that Tophet gave me to Kuranes. Kuranes confirmed the man they had seen was, in fact, Gardner Graves.
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| Kuranes was too absorbed in the analysis of the items they had found to do anything else for the time being. I had Genda figure out the approximate time and place that our visitor had come and gone. He had most recently been in the study, sometime around 3:00 a.m. I summoned forth images of the past to see where he had been and what he had been up to. Sure enough, it was Gardner Graves, lounging about in the room, smoking a cigar. The remains of the cigar were still in the ashtray. He exited by simply teleporting out. I decided to go back and have a closer look, and figure out where he teleported to. I shifted in time back to the moment right after he left, then traced his destination. He ended up in an apartment nearby, a few miles away somewhere in Hollywood. I returned to meet with Genda and determined via a trace that he was currently at the Cassia Chess Club, playing chess, also nearby in Hollywood.
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| Kuranes had no interest in doing anything other than studying the items they had found, and Elaine was still asleep somewhere. Genda and I decided we would go dig around for more information about Gardner Graves before then come back for lunch. We went to determine if Graves had any property in Los Angeles County. It was a quick trip downtown, and the woman at the office was very helpful. She told us that Mr. Graves owned an apartment building and was the actual owner of the building where the chess club was as well. It fit with the model of the C.C.C. membership that Tophet had explained to me, that the members were generally men of wealth. Clearly, Graves had money if he was buying up buildings in Hollywood.
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| We returned to the Alden House and took our lunch with the others. Elaine was up and about now, and Kuranes finally emerged from the temple. We decided that we would go check out the chess club, so we loaded up in the van and headed over. The chess club was in a building that appeared to be registered to the Church of Scientology. That was a bit disconcerting, but we pressed on. We took the elevator upstairs and found the club. It was little more than a series of rooms and offices, some of which were occupied by chess players. We checked around but saw no sign of Graves. Genda determined via communication with spirits that Graves had been there within the last few hours, but left. The apartment building he owned was nearby, so we headed over there. The building was typical of the neighborhood, and it appeared he lived in the unit 101, the manager's unit. A few other names listed by the buzzer were names that I recognized from the photograph Tophet had given me. This was no surprise.
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| The others decided to head in to meet with Graves, but I went outside into the bushes to scope the scene through a window. They spoke at length, but I don't know precisely what about. I learned later that they neglected to ask a bunch of key questions, such as what he knew about the Red Book or the maps from Anaximander's, but they at least got a little bit of information. It was Graves's opinion that the Red Hand had been tasked with the job of assassinating or kidnapping Magdalena Carter (the Iron Lady, as he called her), and that he suspected Marjorie was the one who put out the hit. He also invited Kuranes to join his club, and Kuranes accepted! We made our best effort to reach Mrs. Carter via magic and telephone, but we had no luck. Holmes was on the way home, but Mrs. Carter had apparently decided to go to Paris instead of return to Los Angeles. I only hope she is one step ahead of the Red Hand and has some safe house there that she's going to. I wouldn't want her to get unwittingly ambushed on the streets of Paris.
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| Kuranes left later that night to go to his induction. These C.C.C guys were fast! They invited him to join in the afternoon, he accepted, and he was on his way to their ceremony that same night. I tried to use a trace to establish where the ceremony was taking place. The car they sent for him went up into the hills, but another mage interfered with my spell while it was in transit, so I don't know where it ended up. I do know it wasn't the same part of town where Marjorie and her coven had performed their induction ceremonies; it was in a different part of the hills.
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| After Kuranes left, the rest of us gathered at the table in the Alden House to discuss what we would do next. We decided that a return to Cave City was a reasonable idea, because if we didn't do something about this hungry ghost that Freddie Gumm had let possess him, who would? We did not have any great plan to deal with it, or even any idea of the specific nature of this particular hungry ghost, but Genda thought the best course of action would be to restrain it and try to drive the ghost out from Freddie Gumm's body. He said this could be accomplished by pouring hot oil down its throat. I am a bit skeptical about this method (though I do believe I have heard of such practices in old folk tales), but it's something to try!
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| It was just then that there was some commotion outside, and Genda reported a spiritual disturbance. We went out and found Holmes, wet and shivering, lying on the ground. We moved him inside and tended to him. It was almost as if he had been in freezing water. I did my best to heal him, and we tried to make him comfortable and warm. We fed him and gave him drink. He reported that he and Mrs. Carter had learned of the threat against her life while they were in London. Mrs. Carter had taken a flight to Paris to go to a safe house where the Red Hand would not be able to get her. Holmes returned on their scheduled flight. He said there was a bright flash and he heard some noise when they were in flight over the Atlantic; he thought the plane might be going down. He teleported out, and ended up in the freezing water below. He says kept teleporting, ending up at various times in the ocean again or in the frozen tundra of some northland. After many such hops, he eventually made his way back to the Alden House, on the brink of death. Once he was recovered, he went to rest. Most people would have died from such an ordeal, but Holmes is clearly a hardy fellow. Even still, I think Holmes is lucky to be alive.
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| I finished out the evening with a few more hours of Persian study.
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| ==<span style="color:#21610B">Saturday, January 30th, 1965</span>==
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| I woke up to find Genda in the kitchen, scrounging around for food. He told me that he had received a call from the studio informing him that he needed to come in today. He said it was unusual for them to call actors in on the weekend but, given the nature of the movie and his role and the work that needed to go into the costume and special effects, it wasn't totally unheard of. We also read the news that the plane that Holmes had been on had apparently gone missing over the Atlantic Ocean. In light of all of this, Genda wanted me to accompany him as his personal assistant once again. Keaton and Elaine arrived to the table soon, and they agreed to tag along as well.
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| We made our way up to the studio. Traffic was heavy, and it took longer than expected to get there. We were about thirty minutes behind schedule. The gate guard had not been informed that we would be arriving. He was hesitant, but he recognized Genda and me and let us in. We walked through the lot to Mr. Tuttle's workshop. We found Tuttle and a few others there working on the costume. It did not look at all like a dinosaur, but rather like a demon, with grotesquely clawed feet, and a vaguely humanoid yet monstrous face. It was quite repulsive, and I do wonder where Tuttle had the idea for such a creation. It happened that neither Tuttle nor anyone else there had sent for Genda. It was starting to feel like someone had tried to set him up. We stayed to chat with the movie people, then headed back off the lot. Elaine and Keaton had left! I guess they were feeling impatient, but it would have been nice to know they were just going to drop us off ahead of time. We could have brought two cars. Anyway, since Genda is simply too large for me to easily shift him through dimensions, we did what most people would do and called a cab. The cabbie got us back fast.
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| We arrived back to the house to find Mycroft Jones's car parked outside, with Mr. Jones and his associate, a Mr. Banks, inside. Jones and Banks had come on account of the plane disappearance, and apparently also had business concerning a reporter's visit to the house and the way he had been escorted off premises. Jones informed us what would be happening if it turned out Mrs. Carter had died, and just wanted us to all be up to date on foundation policies and what we would need to know going forward. He left shortly thereafter and headed out to the Palisades for some golfing with his associate. Our suspicions were high all around, so we did not inform Jones of Holmes's return or let him in on what Holmes had told us.
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| [[File:Handofglory.jpg|thumb|left|240px|A hand of glory]]After Jones left, I had Genda consult the spirits to determine if anyone had been around while we were out. In fact, no one had. But, someone had been at my guesthouse last night while I slept! Two men had come in in the dead of night and scoured the premises. I knew exactly what they were looking for! I decided to do some magical investigation into the happenings at my residence last night. Meanwhile, Genda was trying to get information about the number of the caller from this morning. I determined after some study that two men in balaclavas had entered between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. They used a hand of glory before entering to insure that I would remain fast asleep. They searched through my room, and found Kitab al-Babi in its spot, in the pentagram. Fortunately, they were not able to get it from the pentagram. They left frustrated. I considered the option of traveling back in time to get a closer look at these men, but decided instead to focus on the hand itself. With more than a little effort, I was able to sense that the hand of glory used against me last night was being stored somewhere off to the west, likely in the vicinity of Malibu.
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| Genda was able to ascertain that the number that had called us belonged to none other than Marjorie Campbell. She was trying to get him alone for some reason, and still wanted to. She invited him to dinner and he accepted. She was in Malibu. Coincidence? The rest of us tagged along in Keaton's antique van; Genda took the Mercedes alone. Keaton used some technological devices to monitor the conversation. We could hear everything that Marjorie and Genda said to each other, though we could not see anything, nor could we communicate back to Genda. We stayed in sight of Marjorie's house, parked just off the road. Genda got in with no trouble; they did not find the transmitter he was wearing under his lapel.
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| It turned out that Marjorie's reason for contacting Genda was relatively innocuous. She wanted his powers as a spiritual medium to contact her husband and child in the astral plane. A mother who wants to know about her child, and a wife who wants to speak to her husband seem totally normal. She informed Genda that she had not had any success with spiritualists to date, that most were charlatans, and that the ones who weren't were unethical or incompetent. She offered promises of comfort and industry contacts if Genda could provide the services she requested. Genda considered, but ultimately told her that he would need to get back in touch with her. Marjorie also let it be known that she had been watching us, perhaps by magic but definitely by sending Licata's thugs to follow us around, and that she deemed us as no threat to her. She is right about that. Nothing she is doing is of interest to the foundation. She does not seem to be amassing dangerous items or engaging in necromancy or anything like that; all she wants is to be Queen of the World. It is likely even the case that our interests are aligned, that reinvigorating our world with mana is something we all want.
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| I determined while Genda was dining with Marjorie that the hand of glory was not on her property. It was a few miles away, up in one of the canyons running through the coastal mountains of Malibu. When Genda left, we met up with him in the parking lot of a seafood place, where we decided we were going to go up into the hills and find that hand. Marjorie's people were still following us around, looking at us from a perch on a nearby hill. In fact, they followed us right up into the hills, into a small woods. We found a cabin there, and it appeared by the light inside to be occupied. We snuck through the trees to get closer. We observed at least one man inside. This was it. We needed to get in and nab that hand fast. We closed in, but just as we were nearing the cabin, they must have heard us. They was movement inside. We rushed in. Genda was able to knock one man prone, but before he could finish him, the man vanished. The other man dodged away as I tried to bring him to the ground, but that only put him in Elaine's sights. She fired one shot that hit him int he center of his forehead. Blood trickled out and he fell over, dead.
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| The hand was not there. I concentrated and determined that it had moved, about two miles away, further into the hills. I rested up while the others searched the cabin. By the time I had recuperated my energy, the hand had moved again, this time 20 miles. Within another minute, I could no longer sense it. It had been sequestered somewhere safe from scrying, or it had been moved too far for me to sense. I decided to find where it had gone on its first jump. I took flight and flew above the trees to another cabin. It was dark and empty. I returned and, after we cleaned up the scene and disposed of the body, we went by car and van to the other cabin. Magical investigation revealed that the hand had appeared there, and that two men had put it onto some device, whereupon it vanished again. We concluded the Red Hand likely had a series of places like this, maybe all over the region, where they could move things around with these devices. The men themselves had also vanished. I tried to sense where they might have gone, but I was unable. The spirits were also unhelpful in locating them, but were able to conclude that they had left via magical means. I did what I could to search for answers, but the trail had gone cold just like that.
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| The Red Hand knows we mean business now, and I believe they mean the same! I have elected to move a futon down into the temple, where I'll be sleeping for now. I have also secured Kitab al-Babi where it cannot and will not be found by anyone. I'll not specify that in writing, not even in my own diary, lest I am not the only one reading this.
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| ==See Also== | | ==See Also== |