The Golden Telescope

11 - ARTHUR

DUBLIN, IRELAND – PRESENT DAY

Arthur stood, gazing across the enormous room to the over-sized office chair where he was used to seeing his master seated. It was not an easy thing to accept that Sir Edward was gone, despite the fact it had already been two years since the awful incident that dramatically altered the butler's life.

Arthur loved the old mansion. He knew it had been entrusted to his care for upkeep, and he was honored to do it. But still, things just weren't the same without his old friend. The house was devoid of personality now, and with no master to serve, Arthur felt that his life had little meaning or purpose.

Looking, again, to the clipping he held in his hands...he read the obituary:

Sir Edward Mac Paidin, who has died aged 82, was a grand milliner and courtier. He became the royal family's private hat maker in 1967. Though he officially retired in 2004, he continued to serve in numerous capacities, retaining an office adjacent to Buckingham Palace until the end.

Mac Paidin remained in good health until his death, walking in the procession of Knights and Dames Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order in his 70th year. He was deeply touched when the Queen appeared as a surprise guest at his 75th birthday party at Clontarf Castle Hotel.

In 1952 he married Lydia O'Brien, daughter of General Liam and Aileen (Doyle) O'Brien, with whom he had one son and two daughters. His son, Ross, and daughter-in-law, Faith, were tragically killed in an automobile accident eight years before his passing. Mac Paidin is survived by his daughters, Inez and Clara, and three grandchildren.

Arthur gently refolded the fragile newspaper section and carefully placed it back inside the clear plastic envelope where he kept it. Upon returning the page to the large walnut sideboard where it lived, he noticed the pair of wire-rimmed glasses he'd received by post one week following his master's disappearance. Lifting them lovingly, he caressed the initials that had been custom engraved on either side of the frames: EMP.

Arthur deeply yearned for the days long past when he would walk into the library to see his old friend seated behind the desk at the far end of the room, wearing these spectacles as he worked. How he missed sitting together in the evening, sipping tea or brandy, and talking about the events of the day or world affairs.

But all of that ended right after he found Ethan.

2 YEARS AGO

The golden brooch Edward wore on the lapel of his paisley brocade jacket was unusual and one-of-a-kind in design. Crafted in the 17th century by a Master Jewel Maker, the pin was in the shape of a Cavalier hat with a large, ostrich feather plume etched into the surface. The pin featured a stunning 3-carat diamond set into the lower center where a person's head might reside. It was one of Sir Edward's signature wardrobe accessories. In these past 25 years, Arthur had never seen his Master, fully clothed, without it.

And in all that time, Arthur had only seen it light up on perhaps a handful of occasions. During these rare events, the pin came to life with a warm, amber glow that seemed to emanate from deep within the stone, indicating some urgent issue related to the hats that required Sir Edward's immediate attention.

On one exceptionally memorable afternoon, Arthur watched as the stone lit up. However, unlike previous instances, this time, the pin glared a shrill shade of sapphire blue, almost audible in its intensity. The event set Sir Edward into a flurry of activity Arthur had not witnessed before or since.

On that crisp, autumn evening, he and his master had been sitting across from one another, a marble chessboard between them. Sir Edward was patiently awaiting Arthur's next move when just as he placed his fingers on his queen to initiate checkmate, the diamond lit up, demanding their attention. Sir Edward jumped to his feet, tipping over all the king's horses and all the king's men in a move that assured the match was over.