Day 1

Well here Lee and I are enjoying our non- stop flight from Los Angeles to Boston. Well, at least I’m enjoying it. The aircraft has all the accoutrements. Lots of leg room in First Class, and the steak dinner was done to perfection.

Lee, of course, would much rather have had a hot dog, and I’m certain part of him wishes he could be back in Santa Barbara installing some of the new components for the inertial navigator aboard Seaview, not to mention, patting his best girl’s bulkhead, or continuing to weed out some of the pitches for Seaview’s services. We’ve already had a few arguments about some of the ‘Egghead Scientist Buddy’ proposals.

Before, as Seaview’s Captain, Lee could just complain, perhaps warn about taking some of them on, and he did so, frequently. Now, however, as my fully fledged business partner he has an equal say in the decisions made. Perhaps even a little more as I’d be a fool not to listen to him.

But this trip is not about business. It’s about a call I received last night from the Boston Museum. Apparently, the Nelson Jewels, which had been loaned out even before my grandmother was born, have been stolen.

The curator is hoping that I can shed some light as to why anyone would want small locks of hair encased or intertwined in mourning jewelry over any of the other objects d’ art in the place.

Granted there were a few gemstones, but anything significant had been removed at the family's request, and replaced with paste. The real stones were returned to the Nelson estate and deposited in the bank.

Even the display cases indicated ‘imitation’ as far as the diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds were concerned. There were a few real garnets, and a couple of onyx stones, however, along with a few music boxes which also bore and/or encased more locks of hair.

I was simply going to let the insurance handle it. But Lee began to think that Edith and I may have been targeted. So he demanded that we needed him  to do a little snooping, and that he was damn good at it.

 I might not want a babysitter, but if this is some kind of plot for ransom, bribery, or whatever, I’m glad Lee will have our backs.

Hence, after we arrive in 'Bean Town' and get settled into the old mansion, Edith and I are going scour the place  for anything that my great grandmother might have written down about who’s hair was who’s. The Museum;s records are ncomplete as a fire destroyed the original 'manifest' from so long ago.

Not that any such info will help the investigation, but the police insist we gather as much information as possible as you never know if a clue can be found.

In the meantime, Lee will play the tourist, and perhaps get lucky.

In any case, I promised my boy that whatever happened, dinner at the Boston Oyster House was on me. It’s a famous place, one of the oldest restaurants still in service. It even housed some pretty heated Revolutionary debates in its time.  I’m sure he’d also like to tour Old Ironsides, the still commissioned, and oldest US Navy vessel, a semi- permanent resident of Boston Harbor. (She has to be turned once a year so the barnacles don’t cause her to list to one side.)

We’re starting our descent to Logan Airport, and I’m grateful as we’re probably the last flight in before they shut down, the inclement weather wreaking havoc with most flights. We were only slightly delayed, not diverted.

I just hope Edith remembered to have one of the monthly housecleaners turn on the heat. Nothing like going home to an ice cold mansion in the middle of a blizzard. Well, it’s not quite a blizzard, yet. Just a lot of snow and ice. Might be a problem getting a cab though. I hate to think that we’ve come all this way only to be stuck in the airport till the weather clears.

But if we are, at least there are plenty of hot dog stands in the terminal for Lee.